no smut, just gn(or m)!reader, Jake, Quaritch, and tonowari, all in a cuddle pile, being as comfortable as they could possibly be, and murmuring sweet nothings to each other...
"That's the third time you've yawned in two minutes," Jake murmurs, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You don't even bother denying it, your eyelids are heavy as river stones, and the soft, rhythmic sound of Tonowari’s breathing isn’t helping.
The firelight paints the walls of the marui in flickering gold, shadows stretching and curling like lazy vines. Someone, probably Quaritch, shifts behind you, his arm draped heavily over your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns against your hip. It’s not the first time you’ve all ended up like this, tangled together like roots after a storm, but it still surprises you how easy it is. How right.
"You’re thinking too loud," Tonowari rumbles, the words vibrating through his chest where your back is pressed against him. His tail flicks lazily, curling around Jake’s ankle in a gesture so casual it makes your throat tighten.
Quaritch snorts, his breath stirring your hair. "Always does." There’s no bite to it, just fondness.
"You’re one to talk," you mumble, tilting your head back just enough to catch the glint of Quaritch’s teeth in the dim light. His grin is all lazy satisfaction, the kind that comes from knowing he’s won without even trying. "Like you don’t overthink every damn thing." His fingers pause their idle tracing, pressing just a little harder, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you shiver.
Jake chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you feel it where his chest brushes against your shoulder. "Both of you shut up," he murmurs, but there’s no real command in it, just the same drowsy contentment that’s settled over all of you like a second skin. His tail twitches against your thigh, a silent, grounding weight.
Tonowari hums, a deep, resonant sound that seems to ripple through you. "They will not," he says, and you can hear the amusement in his voice, thick as honey. "They enjoy this too much." His fingers slowly card through your hair, and you melt a little further into the tangle of limbs.
The fire pops, sending embers spiraling upward, and for a moment, the shadows dance across the ceiling like living things.
Quaritch exhales, long and slow, his breath hot against your temple. "Damn right," he mutters, and you can feel the way his lips curl against your skin. "S’good. Arguing with you." The admission is quiet, almost lost in the crackle of the flames, you don’t have to see his face to know he’s rolling his eyes at himself.
"You say that like it’s a revelation," Jake murmurs, his voice rough with sleep but still teasing. His tail flicks lazily against your thigh, like the drag of a paintbrush. "We know you love bickering. You’d argue with a rock if it looked at you funny."
Quaritch grumbles something unintelligible into your hair, but his fingers resume their idle tracing, this time mapping the curve of your ribs with a touch so light it’s barely there. You shiver, and Tonowari’s chest rumbles with a quiet laugh against your back. "Like a skxawng with a new toy," he says, the words warm.
Jake’s tail stills first, the lazy flicks against your thigh slowing until it lies heavy and warm across your legs. His breathing deepens next, the rise and fall of his chest evening out against your shoulder, his exhales turning slow and measured. You don’t need to look to know his face has gone slack, his sharp edges softened by sleep, his brow smooth, his lips slightly parted. The arm he’d draped over Tonowari’s side slips just a little, fingers going limp against the Olo’eyktan’s hip.
Quaritch notices it too. You feel the way his breath hitches in silent laughter against your temple, the way his fingers pause their tracing to tap once, pointedly, against your ribs. Look at him, that touch says, smug and fond all at once.
Quaritch lasts another minute, maybe two, before his breathing slows. You feel it in the way his fingers finally still against your ribs, the way his exhales deepen into something heavier, something surrendering. His grip slackens, his arm sliding just a fraction lower around your waist, but he doesn’t let go entirely.
Even asleep, he clings, like he’s afraid the tide might drag you away if he doesn’t hold on. His forehead rests against the curve of your shoulder now, his breath damp and warm through the fabric of your shirt.
You can’t help it— the laugh bubbles up before you can swallow it, muffled against Tonowari’s forearm where it’s curled around your shoulders. "They’re ridiculous," you whisper, tilting your head back just enough to catch the way his eyes gleam in the firelight, half-lidded and amused. His fingers pause in your hair, then resume their slow combing, the rhythm so steady it’s hypnotic.
"Mm. Like children," Tonowari agrees, voice a low rumble you feel more than hear. His tail flicks lazily, the tip brushing Jake’s ankle again, as if to say see? Even in sleep, Jake’s tail twitches in response, curling tighter around your thigh.
Quaritch, for his part, lets out a quiet, disgruntled noise, something between a sigh and a grumble, and nuzzles closer, his nose pressing into the hollow of your throat like he’s trying to burrow there. You swallow another laugh.
Tonowari’s fingers slow their combing through your hair, the deliberate drag of his fingers against your scalp becoming uneven, stuttering like a boat caught between currents. He exhales through his nose, long and controlled, as if he could will away the weight of his own exhaustion through sheer stubbornness alone.
You can feel the effort in the way his chest expands against your back, the deliberate steadiness of his breath, the slight tension in his arms where they cradle you.
"You’re fighting it," you murmur, tilting your head just enough to catch the flutter of Tonowari’s eyelids, heavy as storm clouds. His fingers twitch in your hair, a half-hearted denial, but the rhythm of his breathing is already slipping, long inhales, longer exhales, the kind that pull a person under whether they want it or not.
His chest rises against your back, like he’s counting each breath to stay anchored. It’s almost funny, how hard he’s trying, how pointless the effort is.
Quaritch snores softly against your collarbone, a quiet, uneven puff of air that makes Tonowari’s nose wrinkle in unconscious irritation. His arm tightens around you, just for a second, like he might shake the other man awake out of principle. But the moment passes, and his grip loosens again, his fingers going slack where they’re tangled in your hair. His exhale this time is a surrender, warm and damp against the nape of your neck.
Jake’s tail, still curled around your thigh, gives one last, half-hearted twitch, as if even in sleep, he’s trying to have the final word. The fire pops again, embers spiraling upward in a lazy dance, and the sound seems to startle Tonowari’s eyelids back open for a second. But it’s no use.
His head dips forward, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades, his breath evening out into something deep and unresisting.
Sleep takes you like a slow tide, not all at once, but in creeping increments, the weight of Quaritch’s arm around your waist and Tonowari’s breath against your neck becoming indistinguishable from the warmth of the firelight. The last thing you register is the soft click of Jake’s tail against the woven floor mats, a sound that slips seamlessly into the rhythm of your dreams.
You don’t dream in images, not at first. It’s all sensation, the phantom press of fingers still tracing your ribs, the hum of Tonowari’s voice vibrating through you like a struck drum, the lazy curl of Jake’s tail around your ankle, anchoring you even in sleep. The fire’s crackle lingers at the edges of your awareness, weaving into the imagined whisper of wind through the mangroves outside, until you can’t tell where the marui ends and the dream begins.
Content: First Mangkwan Avatar Male Reader x Aged ! Up ! Neteyam , bottom Neteyam , Breeding Kink , Size Kink ( Reader is one of the largest Avatars the RDA has made ) Implied mpreg I suppose ?
The first thing you felt was the weight— not of limbs, but of wrongness, as if your bones had been hollowed out and refilled with molten stone. Your fingers twitched against wet earth, curling into claws as your lungs seized around air that tasted too rich, too alive. Amber eyes snapped open to a world saturated in hues you’d never seen before— greens so deep they pulsed like veins, blues that shimmered like fractured glass. Your breath hitched. This wasn’t your body. But the hunger in your muscles, the way your pulse roared in your ears like a caged beast? That was yours.
A growl tore from your throat as you rolled onto your knees, tendons screaming under unfamiliar tension. Your new skin prickled under the jungle’s humid kiss, every scar and marking burning as if freshly carved. The markings, jagged, dark, twisted across your forearms like living shadows. You flexed your hands, watching the way the sinew moved beneath grey flesh, the way your claws caught the light. Not human, not Na’vi, something else. Something yours.
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and iron. Your head snapped up, nostrils flaring. Somewhere beyond the tangled vines, something moved. Instinct coiled low in your gut, raw and electric. You didn’t think— you lunged. Your body moved with a predator’s grace, muscle memory you shouldn’t have guiding you through the undergrowth. A strangled cry echoed ahead. By the time you reached the clearing, your fingers were already slick with blood.
The creature— some six-legged thing with too many eyes— writhed at your feet. Your chest heaved. Your lips pulled back in a snarl. And then— laughter. Rough, disbelieving. The sound of a man who’d just realised he could break the world. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting copper. The jungle watched. You smiled.
Neteyam watched from the shadows. He’d seen you emerge from the wreckage— limbs too large, eyes too bright, movements too sharp. Like something carved from the wrong kind of stone. His fingers tightened around his bow. He should’ve shot you the moment you staggered upright. But he hadn’t. Because you’d moved like a storm given flesh, and he’d been stupid enough to be fascinated.
You turned. Slowly. Like you’d known he was there all along. Your gaze locked onto his— amber meeting gold. His breath caught. Yours didn’t.
The creature’s spine snapped between your teeth with a wet crack. It wasn’t deliberate. Just efficient. You didn’t look away from him as tendons tore, as warm blood spilled over your tongue and dripped down your chin. Neteyam’s bowstring groaned under the tension of his grip, but he didn’t loose the arrow. His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated, revulsion, yes, but something else, too. Something that made his pulse stutter in his throat. You swallowed, slow, deliberate, letting him watch the way your throat worked around the kill.
His lip curled. "You eat like an animal."
You grinned, feral, teeth still stained. "And you watch like prey."
The words hit their mark. His breath caught, knuckles whitening around the bow. He hated you. Hated the way his stomach twisted at the sight of you, all coiled violence and dripping defiance. Hated the way his skin prickled when your gaze dragged over him, like claws scraping down his spine. But most of all, he hated the way his heartbeat thundered in his ears when you stepped closer, the scent of iron and sweat clinging to you like a second skin.
You tilted your head, studying him— the way his chest rose too fast, the way his fingers trembled, just once, before he forced them still. Interesting. You could taste his disgust like salt on the wind. But beneath it? Something hotter. Something alive.
His bow creaked, arrowhead glinting as he adjusted his aim— right at your throat. "Name yourself," he demanded, voice sharp as the blade at his hip. You grinned wider, licking blood from your teeth. "Tell me yours first, little hunter."
"Neteyam." Tight, grudging. Like he hadn’t meant to say it at all. You exhaled, slow, watching the way his lashes flickered at the sound of his own name in your mouth. "Good," you murmured, stepping closer. "Now we’re even."
His arrow didn’t waver. "Your turn." You laughed, low, wet, and reached out— not for the bow, but for his wrist, fingertips grazing the rapid-fire pulse beneath his skin. "I don’t have one," you admitted, watching his pupils blow wide. "Yet."
Neteyam swallowed, the motion stark in his throat. "Dreamwalkers always have names." His voice was steadier than his hands. You crowded into his space, forcing him to tilt his head back, shadows swallowing the gold of his eyes. "Then call me what you want," you murmured, breath hot against his cheek.
His exhale hitched. He was tall for his people, built lean and quick, but against you? He felt small. Fragile. The bowstring trembled between you— not from fear, no. Something deeper. Something that coiled tight in his gut when you loomed over him, all heat and hunger and wrongness.
Your thumb pressed against his racing pulse. "Scared?" you teased. Neteyam bared his teeth. "Of you?" But his breath betrayed him, coming too fast, too shallow. You grinned, slow, predatory. "Good." The word curled around him like smoke. "Means you’re smart."
His knee jerked up— fast, brutal— but you caught it against your hip, fingers digging into the lean muscle of his thigh. His snarl twisted into something raw when you didn’t let go, when your grip tightened just shy of pain. "Fuck off," he hissed, voice cracking at the edges. You laughed, low and dark, and leaned in until your forehead nearly brushed his. "Make me."
For a second, neither of you moved. Then his free hand shot up, fingers tangling in your hair— not to push you away, but to pull, rough enough to sting. His lips brushed yours, a fleeting graze of teeth and heat. "I hate you," he breathed against your mouth, voice trembling with the lie. You caught his chin between your fingers, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "No," you murmured, thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "You want to."
His bow clattered to the ground between you, forgotten. The jungle held its breath.
[Timeskip…]
Neteyam arched beneath you, breath ragged as your hips drove into him with relentless force. His hands scrabbled against your shoulders, fingers digging into scarred flesh as he gasped— half protest, half plea. "It's—fuck—too much," he choked out, the words fracturing into a moan as you rolled your hips deeper. His abdomen tensed under your palm, skin stretched taut where your shape pressed against him from within.
You dragged your teeth along his throat, grinning at the way his pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. "Liar," you murmured against his sweat-slick skin, slowing just enough to watch his face twist, frustration, want, the helpless clench of his body around you. His heels dug into the small of your back, urging you on even as he hissed through clenched teeth.
The jungle air, something you hadn’t got used to yet, was thick around you, alive with the sound of his hitched breaths and the slick slide of skin on skin. Neteyam's head tipped back, exposing the fragile line of his throat as a shudder wracked through him. "Stop—ah— stop pretending you don't like it," you growled, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust that made his back bow off the ground.
His answering snarl dissolved into a broken sound, hands fisting in your hair as he dragged you down. The kiss was all teeth, all heat, his hips rolling up to meet yours in a rhythm that was less surrender than defiance. You laughed against his mouth, dark and pleased, as his thighs trembled around you, caught between the instinct to fight and the need to take every inch.
Your lips found his pulse next, tongue tracing the frantic flutter before you sucked hard enough to bruise. Neteyam gasped, fingers tightening, not to pull you away, but to hold you there. "Fuck— they’ll see,” he panted, voice wrecked, even as his head tilted to give you more room. You bit down just shy of pain, relishing the way his breath stuttered. "Let them," you murmured against his skin, dragging your tongue over the mark. "Let them know who owns you now."
His hips jerked at the words, a ragged moan tearing free as you sealed another bruise over his collarbone, darker this time, undeniable. His nails scraped down your back, leaving raised welts in their wake. "They’ll ask questions," he hissed, though the threat was hollow, lost beneath the shudder that wracked him when your teeth grazed his earlobe. "Good," you breathed, rolling your hips slow, deliberate, watching his lashes flutter. "Tell them the truth."
Neteyam’s laugh was breathless, fraying at the edges as you nipped at his shoulder, leaving another mark. "That I let a demon ruin me?" His voice cracked on the last word, body arching as you thrust deeper, stealing his breath. You grinned against his skin, pressing one last bruise to the hollow of his throat. "No," you corrected, slow, savoring the way his pulse leapt beneath your lips. "That you liked it."
His thighs trembled around your waist, muscles taut as a bowstring when you dragged yourself out almost completely— only to slam back in with enough force to wrench a ragged cry from his chest. You fucked him like you hunted— relentless, efficient, leaving him gasping, his fingers scrambling for purchase against your sweat-slick back. The air between you was thick with the scent of musk and salt, mingling with the earthy dampness of the jungle floor beneath you. Neteyam’s breath hitched, his body tightening around you as you leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. "Tell them," you murmured, voice rough, "how much you begged for it."
"Fuck, fuck, take it— ‘m gonna put a baby in you—" The first wave hit him before you even finished speaking— his back bowing off the ground, a choked gasp tearing from his throat as his cock twitched between you, spilling untouched. You didn’t slow, didn’t stop, driving him through it as his body clenched around you in erratic pulses, his nails biting into your skin hard enough to draw blood.
"Fuck— fuck—!" His voice was raw, wrecked, his hips jerking helplessly against yours as you chased your own release, grinding deep with every thrust, dragging the pleasure out until his breath came in shallow, stuttering gasps.
You came with a snarl, fingers gripping his hips hard enough to bruise as you spilled into him in thick, pulsing waves, hips stuttering against his. Neteyam shuddered beneath you, oversensitive but still clinging, his legs locking around you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. The jungle was silent save for the sound of your ragged breaths, the slow drip of sweat from your brow onto his heaving chest.
You leaned down, licking a slow stripe up his throat, tasting salt and exhaustion and something darker, something yours. Neteyam’s lashes fluttered, his lips parting on a soundless exhale as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze— amber and gold, both equally ruined.
Pairing: House of the Dragon x Male!Targaryen!Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, murder, burning down an entire city, dragon death, threatening people, bloody duels, graphic descriptions, gore.
Being the first born of King Viserys was not easy, being the heir and prince of dragonstone, Y/n hated it. He was the first born son of King Viserys, older brother to princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.
He was three years older than his younger sister, making him already ten and eight years old, a dragon rider since he was seven years old. Trained in the art of the sword ever since he could stand, the responsibilities weighed down on him. He wanted to be free, not free in the normal sense, free in the mental sense of things. Y/n felt like he was trapped in his mind prison, the key burned away in his blood that was set alight by the dragon flame.
There was a side of him that could not be unleashed, if it did the end of days will arrive sooner then how Aegon the Conqueror dreamed of it.
The Red Keep was that he has known, he was born in these very halls, in the same birthing bed that his mother Queen Aemma has had multiple miscarriages and stillborns on. His father has always said when Y/n finally was brought into the world, his cries were all the Red Keep heard, when the midwife said it was a boy, Viserys cried happy tears as his wife held the babe in her arms.
Y/n had the natural silver hair and violet eyes of his Valyrian forefathers, as he grew into a man his hair got longer and eyes got sharper. Growing into a handsome prince, most of the ladies at court would chase after him, greater and minor lords would offer their daughters, nieces, sisters and cousins as his future wife.
He wanted nothing to do with them. Marriage. Children. A wife. His own family. None of it, he did not want any of it.
Walking to his mother’s room, he was in riding gear as he was going to the Dragon Pit after visiting. Pushing open the door, the room had incense burning, maesters, midwives all attending to the pregnant queen.
“Mother.” He called out as he walked over and sat down next to her on a smaller stool.
“Y/n. My beautiful boy. How are you? Are you going to go riding again?” She asked as she fanned herself.
“Yes, Seiphax has grown restless within the pit. I heard from the Dragonkeepers that they would cry out at night.” A smile adored his features, the carefree nature of his was on full display.
Y/n’s eyes fell to his mother’s belly, swollen with child. Aemma saw this and laughed. “Your new sibling will be here soon.”
“Mother, I worry for you. You keep on trying pushing out heirs, your body will be eventually destroyed, you cannot keep this up.” He said with worry. “Father already has me as heir, why does he need anymore children? Does he not know of your miscarriages?”
Aemma gestured for her son to come forward, putting a piece of hair behind his ear when he got close enough. “Queen Alyssa had nine children..” Y/n rolled his eyes and pulled away from her. “I know, you have told me that since I have not wanted to marry.”
“As queens, we have to do our duty to the realm.” Y/n crossed his arms before his eyes. “But mother…”
He shut up as he saw Aemma give him the ‘look’. Letting out a sigh before putting up his hands in defense. “Alright. Alright. I’m just gonna go…I will think about my marriage I guess.” Y/n turned and left the room, going to the dragon pit and mounting Seiphax.
Taking to the skies, getting as far away as possible from King’s Landing at the moment. If he was not heir, he would have already fled across the Narrow Sea and escaped and lived freely.
His dragon was the same size as Caraxes, if not bigger, its wingspan was bigger than the Blood Wyrm but its neck was not snake-like. The scales were a shiny black color, when the dragon first hatched his father had thought it was Balerion reincarnated.
Within the clouds, above all cities and the people, the wind that blew through his hair gave him the peace he wished he could have. Any other boy would love to be in his position as prince. He knew of what the smallfolk said about him.
The dragon sat in midair as it floated above the clouds. Y/n’s bond with his dragon was strong, sometimes even without High Valyrian, it was like his dragon could understand what he wanted to do.
Y/n was beginning to slip off the saddle, his dragon realized what he was going to. His body weight shifted all to one side and soon he was free falling to the ocean below. Seiphax flew after him, flying as fast as they could and eventually caught him on his back again.
“Just let me fall Seiphax…..” Was all he said before he took control of the dragon again and flew back to King’s Landing.
Landing back down at the Dragon Pit’s entrance, he got off as he soothed the beast. “Good to see you back prince. Your sister arrived not long after you left.” He walked over to the horse they had brought for him.
“Right. Let’s get back to the Keep before my father freaks out again.”
—-------------
Things have moved too fast for him, the tourney, the death of his mother and brother, his uncle getting exiled, his father getting remarried, Alicent getting pregnant, having a half-brother, Rhaenyra getting betrothed, the wedding leading to someone dying.
Time flew by and soon ten years had gone by, he was in the same if not worst state he was in before. His nephews and half-siblings have grown up now, all were now at least children that could understand the world that goes around them.
His uncle has married Lady Laena Velayron, giving him twin girls of pure Valyrian blood; Baela and Rhaena.
His sister getting pregnant again with her third child.
Everyone around him is getting on with their lives, but him, Y/n was heir, and yet he was still alone. Every time they talked about him getting married he managed to sneak away to the dragon pit and fly off into the skies, he would fly for hours and would not come back unless they dropped the topic on his arrival back.
This day, when he arrived back to the Red Keep he saw his sister walking the halls with a newborn in her arms. He saw his brother-in-law Laenor helping her as she had a limp, he went over and got her other arm.
“Sister, why are you walking? You should be resting after your labors.” His voice was laced with concern.
“The queen has asked for the baby.” Laenor replied, disgust written all over it.
“Again? Thought we were over this.” Y/n shook his head.
“That’s exactly what I said.” The other male said with a sigh.
Soon, they arrived at the queen’s chambers. Even Alicent looked shocked at Rhaenyra walking.
Y/n could only stand awkwardly to the side as he eyed everyone and practically everything in the room. His father walked in shortly after, but he could care less. He knew more than everyone else in this room, he knew it was all the Hightowers doing, he knew Alicent was the one spreading the rumors, Otto Hightower was the vulture he wanted to hunt and shoot through the eye with an arrow.
Alicent then came over to him. “Prince Y/n. Your sister has delivered another healthy babe, it is only a matter of time before you need heirs of your own. Me and your father can find you a suitable match..-”
Y/n groaned and rolled his eyes. “Stop. Your grace.” He began to turn away. Y/n gave a silent glare before leaning in and whispering into her ear. “I know you and what you are, a snake and a vulture on the throne. Once my father is gone and dead and cold in his grave, you will overlook me and my sister and install your own children on the throne. If your father did see me as the true heir, he would not have made you marry my father. He only wishes to see his own blood on the Iron Throne.”
Pulling away, a frown was on his lips. Alicent had an unreadable expression, she was stunned at first but then spoke up anyway. “I’m sure that is not what my father intended for my prince. You are the first born to King Viserys, you are the heir with no doubt.”
Y/n could only scoff as he decided to walk out of the room, going off to the dragon pit again as he wanted the comfort of his dragon.
His dragon has grown double in size, almost bigger than any dragon in the realm save for Vhagar. It was bigger than Caraxes, bigger than Vermithor, bigger than Dreamfyre.
Perhaps it really was Balerion again.
—-------------
Lady Laena has died to Vhagar, setting herself aflame by the dragon’s fire. Everyone was gathered on Driftmark to her funeral, the princes and princesses clearly seemed bored and did not want to be there.
Y/n stood next to his half-sister Helaena, he was her elder by many years, but Helaena thought comfort in him. Y/n knew she was a shy girl, and did not want to converse with others often. He saw Rhaenyra in the distance, he excused himself to go see his sister.
“Nyra…I know you want to see him.” He said, taking a goblet and filling it with wine.
“I do not know what you speak of brother.”
She was still trying to deny it, he knew this well. “I know how you look at uncle. You can’t fool me.”
He did not say anything more, he wanted to drink and get rid of this unnecessary stress. Standing off to the side as he drank, soon his half-brother Aegon spotted him. The boy came over to him, also holding a cup in his hand. “Drinking so soon brother?” The younger asked.
“I should be asking you that, though it’s not a surprise considering it’s you. Guess you take after me.” Downing his wine in one gulp.
“Guess I do, I don’t really see that being a bad thing.”
Y/n gave him a warning glare before walking away. His family has not been the same ever since Alicent married his father, and at this rate there was more infighting going on then Aegon’s conquest to conquer the Seven Kingdoms.
He walked away from the ceremony and to sanded areas of Driftmark. His dragon slept along and behind one of the hills, spotting it was easy as the black scales shimmered in the sunlight.
Seiphax growled as he sensed Y/n’s presence, nuzzling into his rider’s warmth as Y/n patted its snout and soothed him. Seiphax growled more, suggesting to his rider that he wanted to fly and stretch its wings. “I know boy, I’ll take you tonight. How’s that?” The dragon growled in delight at the question.
“Alright. I will be back. Right now I need to go….” He cut himself off, he felt a strong urge to do something.
“I will come back. Just rest for now, yeah?” He patted the dragon’s snout before walking away.
His hand on his sword, though there was no need to bring a sword to the funeral, Y/n does not part with his blade.
Y/n wandered for a while, he does not know where he went, he just knows he ended up in a forest. There was something pulling him here, and he answered the call.
The further he got into the forest, the pull began to get stronger. He got to an area where some people were gathered, it was there he felt it. He felt something pushing towards them, his hand gripped his sword harder than before.
“Kill..”
“Huh?” He heard a voice, he was sure of it.
“Kill them all..”
“What?” The voice was there, he could not have been wrong.
“Kill them and prove your worth..”
He walked closer to the gathered folk, seeing them up close, he realized who they were. They bore the sigil of the Hightower, wearing the green colors with pride, the tower sigil representing their power.
Seeing it made his blood boil.
“Do you remember the dress Alicent wore on your sister’s wedding day? It was green. What colors does the tower fire glow when Oldtown calls its banners to war?”
“Green..” His voice was laced with hatred. It was clear to him now what Alicent did when she wore such a dress. Queen Visenya should have burned the faith and the Hightowers down when she had the chance.
Unsheathing his sword, he walked, then it turned into a run then a full on sprint.
He plunged his sword into the first man, after that everything was a blur. He fully blacked out.
—---------
Vhagar had been claimed, but nothing was without a price. Prince Aemond has lost an eye, cut out by his own nephew Luke.
Everyone was gathered back to the main hall, Aemond was getting his eye stitched up after getting it fully taken out. Luke had a broken nose, the others all had bruises. Aemond was trying so hard not to scream, in the moment he wanted to hold his half-brother's hand, Y/n was the only one who did not judge him for not having a dragon.
“Jace? Luke!” Rhaenyra bursts into the room, going to check on her children.
“Where is my son? Where is my heir?!” Viserys shouted at the guards, the kingsguard could only look at each other as they knew not of where Y/n was.
“We have not seen him at the fight Your Grace, perhaps he was still in bed.” One of them said, unsure of his answer.
Viserys looked toward the kids, looking for some sort of answer to where his heir would be. Most of the children looked away, not knowing where Y/n was at all. All except for one, Helaena, but she stood still as she casted her gaze towards the ground instead. She was mumbling under her breath, but no one managed to catch what it was.
Aegon stood off to the side as he was drunk and asleep but then woken up by everyone else, he didn’t know anything and yet here he was standing here as if he was on trial for a crime. Aemond sat in the chair with only one remaining good eye, he also did not see his half-brother during his fight, or even when he claimed Vhagar.
Jace and Luke both looked away not knowing where their uncle was, Luke clutched onto his mother’s dress skirts and tried to hide behind her as much as possible. Jace just stood, his eyes anywhere but to look at his grandsire. Rhaenyra had a hand on Luke’s back as she tried to comfort him.
Alicent could only look away as she also did not know, she stood over Aemond as she tried to offer some sort of comfort to her son who had just lost an eye. Squeezing his hand in hers as they both stayed silent.
“Does anyone know where in the seven hells Y/n might be?!” Viserys shouted again, no doubt some of the kids flinched at his tone.
“Father..” Rhaenyra pleaded.
“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..”
Helaena mumbled under her breath, the only person close enough to her was Aegon, but he only brushed it off as nonsense.
“So does no one know where my son is?” He looked towards his guards again.
“He was not in bed.” Aemond finally said. “I have not seen him since the ceremony.”
“When did you last see him, Aemond?”
“He was with Aegon.”
“Me?”
Viserys then turned to his second son. “And you boy? Where is your brother?” Aegon did not reply.
“AEGON! Your king demands an answer!”
“None of the children has seen him since the ceremony. Indulging his dragon I would believe, I saw him walk away.” Alicent finally spoke up.
“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..”
Helaena continued to mumble.
“Send people out to look for him, check where his dragon is.” Viserys said to the guards as they bowed.
“Husband, Aemond has lost an eye! We can look for him in the morning, but his eye cannot.” Alicent argued, she wanted justice for her son.
“I cannot restore his eye, Alicent.” Viserys said sadly.
“Because it has been taken! He’s your son Viserys! Your blood!” She was on the verge of crying and shedding tears.
“My sons were the ones that were attacked and forced to defend themselves! If my brother were here he would say the same. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra said, pushing the two boys behind them.
“What insults?” Viserys was now confused.
“The legitimacy of son’s birth were put loudly to question.” Rhaenyra chose her words carefully.
“He called us bastards.” Jace added, looking back at Rhaenyra.
“Wh-” Viserys was cut off as a guard came into the room, catching his breath as if he just ran a couple of miles.
“The Heir’s dragon…” He said catching his breath.
“What? What has happened to Seiphax?”
“The dragon was flying by itself! The prince was nowhere in sight!” The guard managed to say.
At that moment, before anyone could say anything about it, a loud roar could be heard from outside of the Castle. The roar was so loud it seemed like it shook the whole of Driftmark itself.
The room went silent, the adults took the kids to bed as the guards went outside and assessed the situation. Rhaenyra took the kids to bed, she looked over to Daemon and silently told him to bring her brother home.
—---------
A dragon with shiny black scales can be seen flying overhead of Driftmark, taking to the skies and disappearing among the stars. Its scales make it blend in perfectly.
Flying under the moonlight, flying over to the distant forest. It slowly lowered itself down in the middle of the forest. Folding its wings in and dipping its head down, a hand slowly patted him.
“It’s alright boy, you found me.” Seiphax let out a low growl, turning its head to the dead bodies that lay upon the grass and dirt of the forest floor, the blood slowly sinking into the earth below.
The dragon eyes narrowed at the dead, through his eyes, he was asking if it was his rider that killed them. And Y/n already knew. “It was me. I first thought they were fake and I had thought I had gone mad, but since you can see them I don’t know anymore. Maybe you can see them because we are bonded.”
He leaned his forehead onto the cold scales of Seiphax, as if telling the beast he was still alright. Y/n then pulled back and went to grab where his saddle was, getting on top and making himself comfortable before yelling out a single command.
“Dracarys.”
The dragon readied itself before spitting out its flames, burning the corpses of the hightower. Y/n watched as the banner of Oldtown fell, the red and yellow flames engulfed the green. However, the flames begin to change, they begin to darken, turning to a pitch black color.
Soon the flames came to an end, Y/n felt a sense of relief as he watched the corpses burn to nothing. The only thing left was a banner of a half-burnt Hightower banner, and the burnt grass below that has been scorched. “Soves.” Was the only word that left his lips, the dragon spread its wings out but not entirely, before taking off into the sky once again.
“I owe you this flight.” Seiphax let out a sound that sounded like he was laughing, which brought a smile to Y/n’s face.
They flew to a different mountain cliff, Y/n sat cross-legged as his dragon climbed over the top of the rocks behind him. He managed to get some sleep, just barely as they soon saw the sun rise over the horizon.
He has never seen a full sunrise before, not out in the wilderness where the nature of things go undisturbed. It was silent save for the sounds of birds and the wind blowing, nothing else was there to disturb him. There were no people, no family drama, no politics, no duties, no pressure of being the heir. He can just relax.
However, nothing ever lasts forever. It was not long until he heard the screech of the blood wyrm, telling him that his uncle was nearby and ready to take him home. Upon hearing the red dragon, his own dragon Seiphax climbed over the hill of rocks and also roared at it.
Daemon was taken back at how big his nephew’s dragon has actually gotten over the ten years, now it was bigger than any other dragon in the realm, it was bigger than Caraxes he was sure. In a few years it could even rival Vhagar.
“Nephew. Let’s go.” Daemon simply said. Y/n looked tired, but he only shook his head not wanting to move. “Everyone wants you back. Your father is worried.” Daemon said again.
“No.” Y/n said. “I hate going back. Everytime I go back, the snakes and vultures that rule within my father’s council only wish to see me fall! They do not care if I am the heir, they do not think I am ready to rule. They would rather have my brother because he has the conqueror’s name!” He yelled out, almost all of the pent anger from over the years.
Daemon got off of Caraxes and went next to his nephew, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then prove it.” Daemon said.
“What?”
“I hate the Hightowers as much as you do. Only you and me and Rhaenyra see what they truly are. We are the blood of Old Valyria. Our ancestors were conquerors, we don’t wait until the moment. We take it, either if they are willing or unwilling.”
That moment, something lit up inside of the heir. If it was only a spark before, it had turned into a flame, a flame that cannot be tamed no matter how much you throw it at the tides.
—---------
Moving to Dragonstone with his sister and uncle may not have been a smart move, however, Y/n refused to stay at the court of green any longer. After Rhaenyra and Daemon married, he had hopped onto Seiphax and flew to Dragonstone by daybreak.
Little did he know how fast time moves, six years has passed, now returning to King’s Landing to defend his nephew Luke’s title as the future Lord of the Tides.
The wheelhouse went from the dragonpit to the Red Keep, and when it stopped Y/n mentally prepared himself as he stepped out after Daemon.
“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne.” They announced his arrival.
Once they went inside, he no longer saw the Targaryen sigils of the three-headed dragon. Instead it was all replaced by the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven; the Hightowers have taken over the Keep that was built by their ancestors.
“I would say it is nice to come home, but I barely recognize it anymore.” He and Rhaenyra said at the same time, they looked at each before he nodded for them to proceed.
They walked the halls they had grown up in, the familiar hallways and corridors became weird and no longer felt like it was home. Their steps stopped as they reached the doors of the King’s chambers.
Y/n went over to his father, seeing him practically bedridden brought him a sense of sadness. He promises that he will burn House Hightower to the ground.
“Father, it's me. Y/n.” He spoke quietly.
“Y/n? Oh Y/n…my heir…” Was all Viserys could say before Y/n pulled away to let his sister take over.
“I’m going out.” He said to Daemon before he left, which Daemon gave him a nod to.
In truth, Y/n had no idea where he was going to go. He wandered around for a while trying to clear his head, but soon he found himself in the training yard.
He saw his nephews there as well, watching someone going against Ser Criston Cole. When the view changed, he saw the silver haired prince was none other than his half-brother Aemond.
Something was definitely going to go wrong.
During the council to determine Luke’s claim to Driftmark, halfway through King Viserys came in after all. Viserys deemed his grandson Lucerys the rightful heir to Driftmark and yet Vaemond would not have it, Viserys decided to also have Y/n say who he would pledge to as the rightful future Lord of the Tides.
“I would pledge to my nephew Lucerys Velaryon as the future Lord of the Tides, as the heir I will have him rule driftmark while Jacecerys will have a place in my court.” Y/n said with his head held high for the Hightowers to see, he has not even spit fire yet and they looked scared in the mere presence of a dragon. Scratch that, they were in a room of dragons and yet they were only scared of one.
“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the doom! And a hundred tribulations besides! And I will not see it ended on the account of this-”
“Say it.” Daemon whispered as he nudged Y/n on the elbow.
“Her children are BASTARDS! And she is a whore.” Vaemond spat. Many gasped around the throne room.
“I will have your tongue for that.” Viserys managed to say as he got out the conqueror’s blade.
Y/n in one swift movement cut off the top of Vaemond’s head, just above where his tongue was. “He can keep his tongue.” He said, looking down at the corpse, before tearing his gaze to the Hightowers; especially Otto.
“Disarm him!” Otto yelled, but no guard dared to move.
“I am the heir, you have no say over me. No. Fucking. Need.” He wiped off his blade and sheathed it.
That was the first taste of fire the Hightowers got directly coming from Y/n Targaryen, it will surely not be the last that they see such flames.
—---------
The family dinner was a disaster, Y/n managed to break up the fight between his half-brothers and his nephews before it got even worse.
They left that night on dragon-back, getting away and hoping the drama between everyone would die down for a while.
Little did they know that Viserys passed away just as quickly, and soon the greens have taken advantage and have usurped the throne from the rightful heir and placed Aegon on the throne.
While Y/n was on Dragonstone, he had no idea of what had happened. Until Daemon came and told him.
Which led to this very moment.
Standing around the painted table, plotting the war to get Y/n back on the throne. While the men were all standing around the table, pointing out possible allies and places for resources if possible. Y/n stood next to his sister, unsure of what he needed to do, this is the worst he had feared of what was going to happen and now it has become reality.
“The greens also have dragons uncle, there has not been a dragon fighting another dragon since Maegor’s reign.” Y/n argued.
“We also have dragons. They have three adult ones by my count, we have Seiphax, Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Meleys. Baela has Moondancer. There is also Seasmoke who is riderless, there are also wild dragons here on Dragonstone. We have over ten to their three, we easily outnumber them.” Daemon said, wanting to already have this war started.
“No.” All eyes turned to Y/n now.
“What do you mean Your Grace?” One of the Maesters asked.
“If we go after them with force, we will only come back with broken bones, injuries, burn marks and most likely dead dragons. I would not underestimate Aegon so easily.” Y/n spoke, focused on the map in front of him.
His eyes drifted to the end of the table, there was always one place that the greens would have control so easily, that place also had one more dragon.
“No one takes action unless I say so. Get as many allies as we possibly can, prepare the ravens Maester.” He said walking around the table, getting to the other end of it. The bottom of the map where the name Oldtown sat.
“We should bear those messages uncle.” Jace offered.
“Did you not hear what I said? I will be the only one taking action unless I give you permission. You need to stay here in case something goes wrong with me. Do you understand?” Y/n’s gaze hardened on his nephew.
Jace nodded at his uncle’s words. Rhaenyra on the other hand followed her brother out of the room.
“Brother, what are you doing? We can’t sit by and do nothing while Aegon sits on your throne.” Rhaenyra spoke quickly.
“Who said I’m doing nothing? The best way to handle such things is not to go after it with force, but rather use what we can to force it out. The greens will be on their knees begging for mercy after what I do.” Y/n turned away with a wicked smile.
Going to Seiphax, climbing onto its saddle that was just barely able to be put onto the dragon’s back, it seemed that the black-scaled dragon had once again doubled in size. It was almost as big as, if not bigger than Vhagar.
“Soves!” Seiphax took to the skies once more, this time it was not for anything nice.
They flew south for three days, before they finally got a glimpse of Oldtown from above. The city has not yet seen the dragon, but Y/n did not care as he began to fly lower and lower, until the entire city had the dragon’s shadow over it.
And that is when he heard it, the battle horn being blown. Oldtown has called its banners to war.
The fire of the tower had turned green, the banners of House Hightower rose as the armies formed quickly to defend its city. But what could they do against a dragon? Nothing.
Y/n’s target was not the city first, it was the Starry Sept. The place where the high Septon had once called his family 'abominations’. Queen Visenya was right, they should have burnt it down while they had the chance. Visenya had once said to King Aenys to burn it down and turn it to a second Harrenhal, well it was going to be just that.
Circling above the Starry Sept before he flew down quickly and yelled out a single command.
“Dracarys!” Seiphax complied with his rider’s command and began to set aflame to the sept, roasting whoever was still inside.
Y/n had Seiphax breathe his flames over the sept at least five times before he decided to burn the city; the dragon’s flames were no longer red or yellow, but rather the flames had turned black.
The burning of Oldtown as a whole had turned into a second Harrenhal, the city was engulfed in Seiphax’s black flames. Y/n had single handedly destroyed the entire line of House Hightower, as no one had managed to get out of the city under his eyes. The Hightowers all hid inside of their home, the dragon’s black flames engulfed them entirely and soon were nothing more than ash and bone.
What Y/n did not expect was another dragon meeting him in the sky, it was Tessarion and its rider Daeron Targaryen; the youngest son of Viserys and Alicent Hightower. However, Tessarion was no match for the powerful Seiphax.
Tessarion circled around the bigger dragon making it harder for Seiphax to catch him, but what Daeron did not know was that Y/n had no intention of backing down, Y/n’s goal was to kill the dragon.
Tessarion continued to circle the bigger dragon until Seiphax had enough and began to charge, turning its head to follow the smaller and its circling. The bigger dragon followed its movements before speeding up, its wings catching the wind as it went after Tessarion. Seiphax blew its fire towards Tessarion hoping to slow him down, the smaller dragon slowed down but Seiphax managed to catch up completely. Daeron managed to get his dragon to duck out of the way, but this only caused the dragon’s downfall.
When Tessarion moved away, Seiphax flapped its wings harder to speed up. Seiphax comes up on the right side of Daeron’s dragon before digging its teeth into Tessarion’s right side, the bite was not deep as Seiphax retreated its bite.
Only for Seiphax to rip out Tessarion’s right wing. The blue queen roared out in pain before it began to fall towards the earth. Daeron tried to hold onto the ropes of his saddle, but his grip slipped and began to free fall. Y/n had Seiphax fly downwards, the heir had managed to grab ahold of Daeron’s arm and pulled him up.
Daeron tried to kill Y/n as he pulled out a dagger and attempted to slice the other’s throat open. The older dodged out of the way and slapped the dagger out of his hands. “You do anything else, I will drop you. No one, not even your own mother will find your remains.” Y/n spat with a glare, looking over his shoulder.
Daeron could do nothing, his dragon had just died, he had no other weapon, Oldtown was burning, all of the Hightowers had died. There was no one to help him anymore, he could only do as his half-brother says and hope for the best that he does not die.
Seiphax flew back to Dragonstone in only two days' time, the dragon picked up speed and managed to get back early. The morning they arrived back, everyone had been awoken by the sound of wings flapping outside and a roar that shook the earth. Landing beside the castle of Dragonstone, Seiphax let his rider down along with his hostage.
Dragonkeepers and guards gathered around to see what had happened, many were shocked to see Prince Daeron covered in ash and soot, but was also surprised to see Tessarion was nowhere in sight.
“Your grace, what has happened.”
Y/n pushed Daeron to move forward as he got off of Seiphax. “I’ll explain inside. Put his hands in chains, he has already tried to kill me on my dragon.” The guards nodded and took Daeron away. Y/n gestured for the maesters to follow him inside.
Walking through the gates of the castle, he was greeted by different guards, servants and a very worried Rhaenyra. “Brother, what did you do? I just saw Daeron being taken away by the guards, did you go to Oldtown?” She asked, tugging on his sleeve.
They walked to the room with the painted table, where a bunch of lords and Daemon were present as well as his nephews. He waited for everyone to quiet down before speaking.
“Oldtown is in flames. The Starry Sept is burnt down, every member of house Hightower is dead within Oldtown. I have captured prince Daeron, for now he is our hostage. He is defenseless, he has no one to help him.” Y/n simply said. Daemon had a smile on his lips as he heard the words of his nephew.
Everyone around the table began to whisper, but no one dared to actually speak up against the heir, that is until Princess Rhaenys spoke up.
“Your grace, when I fled from the dragon pit I could have burnt them but I chose not to. Because that would have been the starting of a war, I would not have it start because of me. But now, Oldtown and the Starry Sept have been burnt, Alicent would not hesitate to come after us and burn us as well.” Rhaenys reasoned.
Y/n’s lips pulled into a wicked smile. “Why do you think I have Daeron?” The room was silent, all one could hear was the fire cracking.
“Alicent would be too scared to come after us, the only thing she can do is order Aegon around. But, if we have enough allies secured, and we have Daeron as a bargaining chip. She would not dare have Aegon hurt him. Once word reached to her Oldtown has been burnt to ash, she will know who she is dealing with.” The last part felt like spitting fire, the flame within has been caged for too long now he was letting it out.
“If the greens do decide to fight back? What then?” Someone asked.
“If they do decide to fight back, we still have enough dragons to outnumber them. Along with armies and allies, we can have every green’s head on a spike before the fucking moon turns.” Daemon said, his words made Y/n smile.
“We are Targaryens. If it is me who started this war, I will see it to the end. Descended from conquerors, we do not run from our fight.”
Rhaenyra looked to her brother and smiled, same with Rhaenys through her eyes said ‘you know the consequences’. Daemon smiled, Jace, Luke, Rhaena and Baela all looked at each other knowing they would win.
Everyone else in the room begins to plot their battle strategies, seeing which allies they have and who has been secured.
Soon enough, word had reached Alicent Hightower and her father that Oldtown had been burnt down. They say it was a black dragon that was as big as Vhagar that had done it, no one had made it out of the city.
Alicent already knew it was Y/n, years ago Y/n told her that he knew of her family’s intention, and now she was paying the price for not taking the words seriously. Days later, a raven arrived at the Red Keep telling Alicent that her youngest son Daeron was on Dragonstone being held hostage.
‘If you want your son back, dethrone Aegon and I will take my place as the rightful heir. I will spare your family, your children will have places in my court and no harm shall come to them. Make your decision quickly. Not much of my patience remains.’
That was what the letter wrote, Alicent did not know what to do. Y/n would not put her children to the sword if she surrendered, but Aegon was still on the throne and now he would not back down so easily. So, she merely told Aegon to go and speak with Y/n, bring Aemond if he wished.
A week later, Aegon showed up with Aemond on both Sunfyre and Vhagar. Y/n had been expecting them, and so Seiphax was behind him. The dragon was now seen as bigger than Vhagar.
“Brothers. Come to take back my hostage?” Y/n said in an unusual tone of voice.
“Give us back Daeron, and no one would get hurt.” Aegon spoke sternly.
Y/n let out a heartful laugh before replying. “Hurt me? Have you seen Seiphax? He could destroy you both! But enough about me, you would at least want to see Daeron right?” He gestured with his hand to bring him forward.
They made Daeron kneel as he was brought forward, Aegon and Aemond were stunned to see their brother in chains. “Let him go.”
“And you promise to dethrone yourself, Aegon?” The said male stayed silent. “No, I didn't think so.”
Meleys and Caraxes landed behind them. “So what will it be?” Aegon and Aemond both unsheathed their swords.
This battle went down in history as the one the bloodiest duels that ever happened during the Targaryen civil war.
Y/n Targaryen had managed to disarm both Aemond and Aegon before he injured them badly that they could not even move, one of Aemond’s hands had suffered so much damage that it would not stop shaking. When given the opportunity to pick up his sword again, the sword would slip through and his hand could not even lift it. Aegon on the other hand had both of his legs broken so he could not stand, but as Y/n claimed it so that ‘you may never go back on Sunfyre and fly again.’
Both of Aemond’s legs had also been slashed and stabbed as well, this was done because Y/n said it was ‘your consequence of following your brother.’
Their dragons did not have any easier fate.
Meleys had managed to injure Sunfyre and rip off one of its wings.
Caraxes had almost killed Vhagar if it wasn’t for Y/n telling Daemon to stop.
“It is Queen Visenya’s dragon, let it be. If it dies, it should die on Dragonstone, the place it was hatched.”
Both Aegon and Aemond had stayed on Dragonstone for a few days before they left for King’s Landing.
The smallfolk looked up and saw large shadows of multiple dragons; Seiphax, Syrax and Caraxes. Y/n, Rhaenyra and Daemon were back, Y/n had come for his throne.
The queen stood in front of the gates with Helaena, shielding her from the three that had just landed. Rhaenyra and Daemon had dragged Aegon and Aemond beside them, the queen was horrified to see her sons broken and hurt.
“Dethrone your son Alicent.” Bringing Aegon beside him and pulling him up as he could not stand, Y/n unsheathed a dagger from his belt and put it to the underside of Aegon’s neck. “Or I will do it myself.”
“Mother…please…” Aegon practically begged and pleaded to his mother that she do as his brother wanted. Alicent could only nod as she blinked back tears.
“Wait…where is Daeron?” She dared to ask. Y/n tilted his head as he sheathed his dagger.
“I am true to my word unlike you. He is safe on Dragonstone, after I am crowned he will be brought here. He will be properly taken care of.” He handed Aegon over to Rhaenyra as he began to walk inside.
Pushing open the doors of the throne room, the guards almost attacked him but then stopped as they saw their king in the hands of Rhaenyra not being able to walk, while Aemond was being held by Daemon who had Dark Sister strapped to his belt.
Walking up the steps to the Iron Throne before he finally sat down, he had got the throne but there was something missing. And he knew what it was.
Going down to Aegon as on top of his brother’s head was still the conqueror’s crown, taking it for himself but his uncle Daemon offered to crown him. Y/n nodded as he knelt down as Daemon put the crown up on top of his nephew’s head.
This was a temporary crowning as the ceremony will be the official one that deems Y/n king of the realm. But, Y/n had a reason he wanted the crown now.
“Bring Otto Hightower to me.” He said to the guards, Daemon glared at them which made them comply, but also because of their scared queen.
Otto was soon brought into the room, looking confused before his expression turned that into a scared one. “Your grace…” Was all he could say.
“Otto, you really are a snake. My father could not see it, but I surely can. Even from a young age I could tell all you wanted was your own blood on the throne. But look here we are, your grandsons barely able to move or even just stand.” Y/n said all with a wide smile.
“You got what you wanted, but why did you burn down Oldtown?! My family had no part in this!” Otto shouted back.
“Right, it wasn’t the Starry Sept that called my family abominations. It was not Oldtown that supported Alicent to do what she did. But, that was all in the past. The real reason?” Everyone waited for his answer.
“History remembers names, not blood. If this war was fought and we still won, it would be Aegon’s name that is remembered, not mine. I needed to do something I could be remembered for when I sit on this throne. I turned Oldtown into a second Harrenhal.” The wicked smile is not leaving his face.
Before Otto could even reply, Y/n had gestured for Daemon to put on his sword to the Hand’s neck. And with one hand gesture, Daemon slit Otto’s throat.
“Tell servants to clean up the mess. Take Aegon and Aemond to the maester to get treated, I have other things I must see to.” Was all Y/n said as he left the room.
Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other before nodding, they would go back to Dragonstone to prepare for everything else.
Seven days passed before Y/n Targaryen was officially crowned as the ruler of Westeros and of the Seven Kingdoms as a whole, they found a septon that had remained in King’s Landing to host it. Daemon may or may not have threatened him a bunch of times.
During the coronation, Y/n’s family all stood to the side. His half-siblings on one, while Rhaenyra and Daemon and his nephews stood to the other.
“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”
With that, the conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Looking to the crowd as he unsheathed Blackfyre. The crowd cheered for him as they saw the rise of their new king. Daemon was now his hand and so was Rhaenyra, it was the only time in Targaryen history that a single king had two hand of the king.
Aegon and Aemond were given places in court as Masters of Whispers, Helaena became Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, Daeron was with his brothers but he became a personal guard to court. To Y/n, they were still family and in their youth they had been friends at one point.
Alicent. She was basically on house arrest as she was not allowed to leave the Keep. Her children took care of her as she grew older.
Y/n never did marry. He refused to have children, and as he was crowned he made it so that his sister would succeed him if he died, and Daemon would be king consort alongside her. Then, Jacereys would take after her.
Aegon and Aemond never again flew on their dragons nor did they ever pick up a sword, but they knew they were already spared from their brother’s executioner. Same with Daeron as well. All three men knew they were already far from the flames of Seiphax.
The Targaryen civil war that would be known as the dance of the dragons would go down in history, however, the final act to end the war for everyone to remember is that Prince Y/n Targaryen burnt down Oldtown and the Starry Sept beyond repair. But also, he would be remembered for ending the entire Hightower bloodline single-handedly, turning that city into a second Harrenhal.
His dragon will also be remembered as they lived beyond the king’s years.
Seiphax; the second Balerion.
Y/n Targaryen would go down in history being remembered as a king.
His title?
King Y/n ‘two-faced’ Targaryen. First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.
The unpredictable king. The virgin king. The second conqueror.
But one thing was for sure.
He mended House Targaryen so they forever stood strong.
Y/n Targaryen was the true blood of Old Valyria. Just like his ancestors, he was a true Targaryen.
Ice prince 🌟💖🔪☁️ omegaverse |Zuko wants to make his reign as fire lord a positive one, first being to beg for forgiveness to the twin brother of princess Yue|
Ice prince 2 |reader prepares his journey to the fire nation to mend bridges, Zuko is scared that he's going to mess up while grappling with the fact he thinks the prince is attractive|
Ice prince 3 | terrified and unable to sleep, the reader goes for a walk to clear his mind and Aang realizes how perfect the reader is in the fire nation|
Ice prince 4 | attempted drugging leads Zuko to take reader to Amber Island for a while where the fire lord learns it's the readers birthday and can't hold back his feelings
Ice prince 5 Zuko has (name)s heart but now he needs the families approval
The royal hot springs nestled in the shadowed foothills beyond the Fire Nation capital, far enough from the palace that the weight of the throne and its endless demands felt like something left behind on another continent. You and Zuko had slipped away under the cover of dusk, the two of you stealing the rare night alone after weeks that had stretched into months of separation. Court sessions had swallowed him whole—long hours mediating between restless nobles, smoothing over old grudges that refused to die with the war. Your own days had been claimed by the delicate negotiations with the Water Tribe delegations, forging new trade routes and alliances that kept you away from the palace more often than not. Letters and brief, exhausted kisses in passing corridors had been all you managed for far too long. The yearning had built like steam under pressure, mutual and aching, until neither of you could stand another night apart.
The carved stone path to the largest pool glowed faintly under low torchlight as you arrived. Zuko shed his formal robes first, letting the heavy layers fall away until he stood bare in the cool night air. You followed, stepping down into the steaming water behind him. The heat rose around your bodies, enveloping you both as you sank in together. Zuko settled against your chest without hesitation, his back to your front, head resting back on your shoulder. The water lapped gently at your collarbones, and for the first time in weeks the rigid line of his shoulders softened.
Your arms circled him, one hand resting low on his stomach while the other traced slow, idle paths along his arm. “I’ve missed this,” you murmured against the side of his head, voice low in the quiet. “Missed you. The way you feel right here.”
Zuko exhaled, long and slow, his fingers threading through yours underwater. “Every damn meeting I sat through, all I could think about was getting back to you. The court feels like it’s designed to keep us apart these days.” His voice carried that familiar edge of frustration, but it melted into something quieter, more vulnerable. “I hate how little time we’ve had. You with the Water Tribe talks, me buried in scrolls and arguments… I need this. Need you.”
You pressed a kiss to his temple, then another to the corner of his jaw, lingering there. The steam curled around you both, making the air thick and intimate. “We’re here now. No councils. No delegations. Just us.” Your hand slid up his chest, palm flat over his heart, feeling the steady beat that had become the rhythm you measured your own life by. He turned his head enough to catch your mouth in a kiss—slow at first, then deeper, tongues sliding together with the kind of unhurried hunger that came from too many nights spent apart. When you broke apart, his breathing had already changed, a little quicker, a little warmer against your lips.
You stayed like that for a long while, trading soft kisses and quiet words between them. He told you about the latest pointless debate in court, how he’d wished you were there to steady him with a single look across the room. You shared stories from the Water Tribe negotiations, the way the southern delegates had finally started to trust the Fire Nation again because of the work you’d put in. Each shared detail drew you closer, bodies shifting in the water until he was straddling your lap, knees braced on the submerged stone ledge on either side of your hips.The water made everything slick and weightless, his cock brushing against your stomach as he rocked once, experimental.
The kiss deepened again, mutual and yearning, hands roaming with the kind of familiarity that came from years of marriage. Your palms mapped the planes of his back, the dip of his spine, pulling him flush so there was no space left between you. Zuko’s fingers dug into your shoulders, hips rolling again, slower this time, deliberate. “I’ve wanted you like this for weeks,” he breathed against your mouth, the words rough but honest. “Just you. No interruptions.”
You answered by gripping his hips, guiding the next roll so your cock slid against the cleft of his ass, hot and insistent in the water. The oil you’d brought from the palace sat on the stone edge; you reached for it, slicking your fingers and then yourself while he watched, eyes dark with the same need that had kept you both awake on too many separate nights. When you pressed two fingers to his entrance, he sank down onto them without hesitation, a low sound escaping him as the water rippled around your wrist. You worked him open carefully, curling and stretching until he was rocking back onto your hand, chasing the feeling.
The transition into more came naturally, the way it always did when the yearning finally broke. You withdrew your fingers and guided your cock to his hole, the thick head breaching him slow and steady as he lowered himself. The water helped, making the slide smoother, but the heat of him was still overwhelming—tight, velvet, clenching around every inch as he took you deeper. Zuko’s head tipped back, lips parted, a quiet groan slipping free when he bottomed out, ass flush against your thighs. You were buried to the hilt inside him, the water lapping at your joined bodies.
He started riding you then, slow rolls of his hips at first, hands braced on your chest for balance. Each downward motion dragged your cock along his inner walls, the angle perfect in the buoyant water. You met him with upward thrusts, gentle but deep, hands steady on his waist to keep him grounded. Kisses came between the movements—messy and open-mouthed, tongues sliding together as the pace built. Steam rose thicker around you, the torches casting flickering light across his flushed skin and the way his chest rose and fell faster with every grind.
“Feels so good,” Zuko muttered against your lips, voice wrecked but steady, the words pulled from somewhere deep. “Missed having you inside me like this. Missed feeling full.” He rolled his hips harder, taking you deeper, the water splashing softly with the motion. You answered by pulling him down into another kiss, tongues curling together while one of your hands slid between you to stroke his cock in time with his riding. The mutual need poured out in every touch—his desperation to be close after so many weeks apart matching your own ache to have him like this, connected and yours.
The rhythm quickened naturally, his ass bouncing in the water with each drop and rise, the wet sounds mixing with the soft lap of the spring. You thrust up harder, hitting that spot inside him that made his breath hitch and his fingers tighten on your shoulders. Kisses broke only for air, then returned, deeper and more urgent. Zuko’s moans spilled into your mouth, low and raw, his body moving with the kind of focused hunger that came from too much time spent wanting.
You felt him start to tremble, muscles tightening around your cock as pleasure coiled tight. His cock pulsed in your fist, leaking steadily into the water. “Close,” he gasped against your lips, hips grinding down in short, desperate circles. You kept stroking him, kept thrusting up to meet every roll, until he came with a shuddering breath—thick pulses spilling over your fingers and into the spring while his hole clenched rhythmically around you, milking your length.
The squeeze dragged you over the edge right after. You buried yourself deep and came inside him, pulsing hot and heavy, filling him until it leaked out around your cock into the water. Zuko kept riding you through it, slow and languid now, drawing out every last tremor until you both stilled, chests pressed together, breathing hard in the steam-filled air.
He stayed in your lap for a long time after, forehead resting against yours, the water still warm around you. Your hands stroked up and down his back in lazy passes, and he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—small, lingering things that spoke of the same deep relief you felt. “We should do this more,” he said quietly, voice still a little rough. “Steal nights like this. The court and the delegations can wait a few hours. I need you more than any of it.”
You kissed him again, slow and sure, arms tightening around him. “We will. Every chance we get. You’re my husband. That comes first.” The words settled between you, simple and true, the same promise you’d made on your wedding day years ago. The hot spring kept you wrapped in its warmth long into the night, the two of you trading quiet touches and softer kisses while the steam continued to rise, the rest of the world held at bay for just a little longer.
The Fire Nation palace gardens bloomed in the late afternoon light, scarlet and gold petals catching the breeze like embers drifting on the wind. Zuko had insisted on the private tour of the restored eastern wing, his voice steady but warm as he led the way. The group had arrived unannounced that morning — Aang’s glider touching down on the palace roof with a cheerful whoop, Katara and Sokka trailing behind with Toph in tow — and Zuko had welcomed them with the same quiet relief he always showed when old friends crossed his threshold after too many months apart.
You walked a few paces ahead of them, the hem of your deep crimson robes brushing the polished stone path. The fabric was embroidered with subtle golden flames along the sleeves, the kind of royal garment that had once felt foreign but now settled against your shoulders like a second skin. A light breeze lifted your hair as you paused beside a flowering plum tree, fingers brushing a low branch to release a scatter of petals that drifted down like soft pink snow. You smiled to yourself, content in the easy rhythm of palace life you had built together — the quiet mornings, the shared evenings, the way Zuko’s hand found yours without thinking whenever the weight of the crown grew heavy.
Behind you, the group had gone strangely silent.
Sokka was the first to break it, voice pitching up in disbelief. “Uh… Zuko? Who’s the guy in the fancy robes just… strolling around like he owns the place?”
Katara’s eyes widened, water pouch still slung over her shoulder as she stared. “Did you hire a new advisor or something? He’s wearing the royal crest.”
Aang tilted his head, airbending staff balanced lightly in one hand, a curious grin starting to form. “He seems really comfortable. Like he knows every path in the garden.”
Toph snorted, arms crossed, though her blind eyes tracked the faint vibrations of your footsteps on the stone. “And he smells like royal incense and that weird tea Zuko drinks. Spill it, Sparky. Who is he?”
Zuko stopped walking. A faint flush crept up his neck, but his posture remained straight, the scar across his eye softening in the golden light. He glanced at you, and the look that passed between you was small, private — the kind built from two years of stolen mornings and late-night conversations by the turtle-duck pond. You turned back toward the group, offering a calm, easy smile that carried none of the defensiveness they might have expected.
Zuko stepped forward, his hand brushing yours openly now, fingers threading together without hesitation. The touch was simple, but it spoke volumes in the quiet garden air.
“He’s my husband,” Zuko said, voice low but steady, carrying the same quiet certainty he had used the day he had asked you to stay forever. “We got married a while ago. Right here in the palace. Small ceremony. Uncle Iroh and a few other people who could keep a secret.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Sokka’s jaw actually dropped. “You got married? And you didn’t tell us?”
Katara’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes glistening with sudden, happy tears. “Zuko… that’s wonderful. I can’t believe we missed it.”
Aang’s grin broke wide and bright, the kind that could light up an entire sky. “That’s amazing! You two look really happy together. Like… really, really happy.”
Toph barked a laugh, punching Sokka’s arm hard enough to make him stumble. “Told you Sparky was hiding something big. Congrats, you big softie. And you,” she added, jerking her thumb in your direction with a smirk, “you’ve got good taste.”
You laughed softly, the sound warm and unhurried, and squeezed Zuko’s hand. “We sent invitations. Letters to everyone. But with the rebuilding, the new trade routes, and all the chaos after the war… I guess the mail never quite reached you. We didn’t want to make it a big spectacle. Just us. ”
Zuko’s thumb traced a slow circle over the back of your hand, a gesture so natural it looked like breathing. “I kept meaning to tell you in person. Every time a letter went out or a visit was planned, something came up. The Earth Kingdom delegates, the colonies, the Spirit World negotiations… life kept moving faster than I could catch up. But he’s been here the whole time. My husband.”
The group closed in then, the shock melting into something brighter, warmer. Katara pulled you both into a hug first, her arms tight and fierce. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. You deserve this.”
Aang joined next, wrapping his arms around the three of you with effortless joy. “We’re family. Always have been. Now it’s official — you’ve got a whole husband to show off!”
Sokka clapped Zuko on the back, grinning wide. “I’m still mad you didn’t tell us, but… yeah. This is good. Really good. He looks like he makes you less grumpy, which is saying something.”
Toph just smirked and punched your arm lightly. “Welcome to the chaos, royal husband guy. Try to keep Sparky from setting the palace on fire when he gets stressed. That’s your job now.”
You felt Zuko relax beside you, the tension he had carried for years easing in a way only old friends and this new life could manage. The sun dipped lower, painting the gardens in hues of rose and amber, and the five of them fell into easy conversation around you — stories of their latest adventures, questions about how you had first met, gentle teasing that never crossed into discomfort.
Zuko leaned in close as the others wandered ahead toward the turtle-duck pond, his voice for your ears alone. “I should have told them sooner. But I liked having you to myself for a while.”
You turned your head and brushed a kiss to his temple, the gesture simple and open in front of the people who mattered most. “We have them now. And it feels right.”The group’s laughter drifted back on the breeze as they argued over who would win a friendly sparring match tomorrow. You and Zuko followed at a slower pace, hands still linked, the royal robes swaying gently with each step. The palace felt fuller tonight — not because of titles or crowns, but because the family you had both chosen had finally arrived to witness the life you had quietly built together.
In the golden light of the setting sun, everything simply felt like home.
I think my tumblr's broken. Won't let me answer requests. I might do one about male reader doing zuko's hair let me know if you'd like that
The Earth Kingdom market sprawled along the riverbank like a living tapestry, colorful stalls overflowing with spices, silk scarves, and hand-carved trinkets that caught the midday sun. The air hummed with voices and the sharp scent of grilled street food, merchants calling out their wares while children darted between legs. You and Sokka had slipped away from the group for what was supposed to be a simple supply run, but the way he kept glancing sideways at you, that easy grin on his face, made it feel like something more.
Sokka walked close, shoulder brushing yours every few steps, his boomerang slung casually over his back. “See? Told you this place had the best roasted duck-pig. Way better than anything in the South.” He bumped your arm lightly, eyes bright with that familiar spark of mischief. “Bet I can talk the vendor down to half price. Watch this.”
You laughed under your breath and let him lead, content to follow the rhythm of his stride. The crowd thickened near a stall selling intricate jade pendants, and that’s when it happened. A tall merchant with sharp cheekbones and a confident smile leaned across the counter, eyes flicking over you with open interest as he held out a polished pendant.
“Something for the handsome traveler?” the man said, voice smooth and low. “This one would look perfect against your skin. Or… maybe you’d let me show you how it fastens?” His gaze lingered, the flirtation clear and unhurried.
You offered a polite nod and a half-smile, already reaching for Sokka’s sleeve to keep moving. But Sokka didn’t miss a beat. He stepped in closer, hand brushing yours deliberately this time, fingers grazing your palm before linking loosely. “Yeah, we’re good,” he said, tone light but edged just enough. “He’s got all the accessories he needs.” The merchant shrugged with a knowing look, but Sokka was already guiding you away, hand staying in yours a fraction longer than necessary as the crowd swallowed the stall behind you.
He played it cool the rest of the afternoon — cracking jokes about the overpriced tea sets, pointing out ridiculous hats, stealing bites of your skewer when you weren’t looking. But you noticed. The way his fingers kept finding excuses to touch your wrist. The way he positioned himself between you and every passing stranger. The way his laugh came a little quicker, a little brighter, like he was reminding the whole market exactly who you were walking with.
By the time the sun dipped low and painted the river gold, the market noise had faded behind you. You found a quiet stretch of grass beside the water, the current murmuring softly as you sat together. Sokka dropped down first, knees drawn up, staring out at the ripples. The easy grin had slipped away, leaving something quieter.
You waited, shoulder against his, until he spoke.
“I hate this,” he said finally, voice low. “Feeling like I have to… I don’t know, stake a claim or something. That guy back there wasn’t even that bad, but the second he looked at you like that…” Sokka huffed a short breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s stupid. I trust you. I love that you’re mine. But sometimes it still hits me that someone else could try.”
You turned toward him, the river’s soft glow catching on the sharp lines of his face. Without a word you reached out, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in. The kiss was slow, grounding, your mouth moving against his until the tension in his shoulders melted. Sokka sighed into it, one hand fisting lightly in the front of your tunic like he needed the anchor.
“You’re mine,” you murmured against his lips when you finally parted, forehead resting on his. “And I’m yours. No one else gets this. No one else even comes close.”
He exhaled, the sound shaky but relieved, and kissed you again — softer this time, like he was letting the words settle deep. When you stood and offered your hand, he took it without hesitation, the walk back to the small inn on the edge of town quiet and warm.
The narrow room upstairs was simple, just a bed, a low lantern, and the faint scent of river air drifting through the open window. The moment the door clicked shut, Sokka was on you, mouth urgent and claiming as he backed you toward the bed. Clothes came off in a tangle of hands and quiet laughs, until he pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed into your lap, straddling your hips.
He didn’t waste time. Sokka sank down onto you in one smooth motion, the tight heat of him enveloping every inch until he was seated fully, breath catching sharp. His hands braced on your chest, palms flat over your heart as he started riding you hard — hips rolling with that focused intensity he usually saved for battle plans or inventions. His wolf-tail had come loose somewhere along the way, dark strands falling across his forehead as he looked down at you, eyes locked on yours like he was daring the world to try taking this away.
You gripped his hips, fingers digging into warm skin, and thrust up to meet him, matching every downward drop with a deep, steady snap. The narrow bed creaked under the rhythm, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin and Sokka’s low, ragged breaths. He rode you like he needed to feel every inch, like he was proving something to himself with every grind.
But the possessiveness still simmered under his skin. Sokka leaned down suddenly, mouth latching onto the side of your neck. His teeth scraped first, then bit down hard enough to sting in the best way, sucking a dark mark into the skin right where your collar would hide it tomorrow. He soothed it immediately after with slow, wet licks, tongue dragging over the fresh bruise like he was sealing it in. “Mine,” he growled against your throat, voice wrecked but fierce, before moving lower to your collarbone. Another bite, another bloom of heat and color, followed by the same careful, soothing licks that made your cock twitch inside him.
You tightened your hold on his hips and drove up harder, watching the way his head tipped back for a moment before he forced it forward again, refusing to break the eye contact. Sweat slicked his chest, muscles flexing with every roll, his cock leaking steadily against your stomach as he chased the edge. Sokka kept marking you — a sharp bite just above your left pec, then another lower on your ribs — each one followed by those deliberate, tender licks that dragged over the sensitive skin until the sting melted into warm pleasure. He sucked a particularly dark hickey right over your heart, tongue swirling slow and possessive afterward, as if he could imprint the claim permanently.
“No one else,” he panted between marks, hips slamming down harder, taking you impossibly deeper. “No one else gets to see these. No one else gets you like this — stretched out under me, letting me claim every inch.” His tongue traced the fresh hickey on your neck again, slow and possessive, before he bit down on the other side, sucking hard enough to leave a matching bruise. The wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of teeth, the soothing glide of his tongue — it all blurred together with the tight clench of his hole around your cock, pushing you closer to the edge.
You thrust up faster, one hand sliding up his back to fist in his hair, guiding his mouth back to your throat. Sokka moaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through the fresh mark as he sucked another dark spot into existence, then licked over it with long, lazy strokes that made your hips stutter. His own cock rubbed slick and hot between your bodies, untouched but throbbing, the head dragging over your abs with every roll of his hips.
The pace turned punishing. Sokka rode you with single-minded focus, ass bouncing hard, walls fluttering and squeezing around you on every downstroke. He kept marking you — teeth and tongue working across your shoulders and chest in a scattered trail of hickeys — soothing each one with careful licks that left your skin glistening and oversensitive. The combination of pain and care, the way he never stopped looking at you, the way his body yielded and claimed at the same time, had heat coiling tight in your gut.
When he came it hit him hard, body seizing as thick ropes spilled across your stomach and chest, hole pulsing rhythmically around your cock like it was trying to pull you even deeper. The sight and the squeeze dragged you over right after. You buried yourself to the hilt and held him there, pulsing hot inside him while he shuddered through it, still rocking slowly like he didn’t want it to end.Sokka collapsed forward onto your chest, breathing hard, face tucked against your neck. His arms wrapped around you, holding tight even as his body trembled with aftershocks. He pressed one last soft kiss to the cluster of marks he’d left, tongue flicking out to soothe the darkest one with a gentle lick.
“Mine,” he muttered against your skin, the word quiet and certain now, all the earlier tension gone. “Just… mine.”
You ran a hand down his back, slow and soothing, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. The lantern flickered low, the river’s murmur drifting in through the window, and the world outside the little inn felt very far away.
The jealousy had burned out, leaving only this — the two of you tangled together, warm and claimed and completely sure.
Ima keep pushing out these fics while i can b4 i go MIA. Enjoyy🫡✌️
The quiet forest clearing felt even more private now, the soft afternoon light filtering through the leaves as Aang knelt between your spread legs. He looked up at you with those warm gray eyes, full of quiet focus and genuine want, his hands resting lightly on your thighs. He liked this part — pleasing you completely, reading every twitch of your body like it was the only thing that mattered.
He leaned in and took your cock into his mouth without hesitation, lips stretching around the head as he started bobbing slowly. His tongue swirled in lazy circles at first, tasting the salt and heat of you on every pass, savoring it like he couldn’t get enough. The wet heat of his mouth enveloped you deeper with each downward motion, his cheeks hollowing as he worked you with steady, devoted rhythm. Aang’s eyes stayed locked on yours the whole time, watching your face for every reaction, adjusting the speed and pressure instantly whenever your breath hitched.
He bobbed his head further, taking you deeper until only the sensitive head remained between his lips. Then he worked his tongue masterfully — flicking and pressing along the underside, circling the slit, lapping up every drop that leaked out while his hand stroked the base in perfect time. The familiar heat began to coil tight in your lower abdomen, building fast under the relentless attention.
Aang felt it too. He took you back in all the way to his throat in one smooth glide, the tight, wet heat squeezing around you as he swallowed. His nose pressed against your stomach, throat fluttering around your length while he held there for a moment, eyes still fixed upward. You twitched hard against his tongue, and then you were pulsing, coming down his throat in thick, steady spurts. Aang swallowed every drop without pulling away, his throat working around you until you were spent.
He cleaned you thoroughly with his mouth afterward, tongue gliding slow and gentle along your softening cock, licking up any remaining traces until you were completely clean. Only then did he pull off with a wet pop, thin strings of saliva still connecting his swollen lips to the head of your cock for a brief second before they broke.
Aang rose from his knees in one fluid motion, climbing into your lap and straddling your thighs. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you deeply, tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste yourself on him — the faint salt and musk mixing with the familiar warmth of his kiss. He hummed softly against your lips, the sound content and satisfied, his body pressing close as if he still wanted to give you more.
“You always taste so good,” he murmured between slow, lazy kisses, voice a little rough from the stretch but warm with that eager, pleaser tone. “I could do that for hours if you let me.”
He stayed in your lap, forehead resting against yours, hands stroking gently down your chest while the forest stayed quiet around you both. The air between you felt easy and close, the kind of moment Aang lived for — making sure you felt completely taken care of.
So, when I was scrolling through TGCF fanfics. I managed to come across a Hualian x FEM! Reader fic.
Seriously, who in the world would do such a stupid thing? I remember about boundaries being set and not being crossed. But, guess what? Some people really don't know how to clearly listen.
So, I talked to the author and tried to tell them that what they did was wrong; they only ignored me and blocked me, plus removed all the comments I posted. Which said; this work is fetishizing the mlm romance work of MXTX.
When the author replied, she told me that there wasn't anything wrong with what she worked on. Which is clearly; bullcrap.
Of course, I explained to her that canonically shipping gay men with a woman is straight up fetishizing the said gay characters. But, she ignored me and blocked me.
So, fast forwards to now, I came across it once more. I looked at the work and it had two new chapters. One of them was labeled; ''Hiatus? Discontinued? I'm unsure honestly''. In this chapter, she talked about me. She told me that she was sick of (my) comments. That she was 'fetishizing' (which she clearly is) Both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng.
She said that she didn't intentionally meant to and only did it for fun. I don't think fetishizing gay men is fun. Even though I had told her that she can just fix it she said no and continued on with the story. (When I first commented the story had been 15 chapters in).
And, when she got my comments. She ran to her sister who was a huge supporter of LGBT. Her sister said that it was okay since they were 'fictional characters' and not 'real people'. Which didn't really help out with the fetishization.
She also claimed that when she wrote the story, she did not know they were lovers. Because, in her words. It was because of the;
1. Chinese censorship
2. She thought that were just genuinely flirty friends
The reason for the thought of HuaLian being friends is because she claimed that she had guy friends who were always acting so flirty and fruity with each other. But, the question is, how could you not know they were lovers when the show itself is labeled as romance.
Plus, I believe that the description of the novel is proof itself that the story would most likely be a romance between the two male protagonists.
And by the time she found out, she kept them as lovers but still changed their sexuality for a polyamorous relationship with a female. Which in my view, didn't really actually elevate the fetishizing.
Some commentors sided with her. And agreed with her statement that her story was not, ''fetishizing''.
I may be a moron, or just a complete war freak. But, I want to see the TGCF fandom's insight in this matter.
i get that their sexualities r never "confirmed" to be gay or anything but do people just not have the basic decency to know?? like you're reading a BL manhua emphasizing the word BL = BOYS LOVE, it would make MUCH more sense if it was an m reader cause obviously they're a male, but if its a FEMALE reader insert, that morally would just sound and looks very wrong.
Even tho you say you arent "fetishizing" the characters, thats what YOU think, but using a fem reader insert for a BL manhwa/manhua/manga character, it just clearly states you love fetishizing gay men 🤞🏻🥀😭
Hi could I request a zhongli x male adeptus reader angst please
Like zhongli and the male reader were dating but he sealed us away during the archon war so we wouldn’t get hurt but then over the years we break free and look for him only to see him forgetting about the male reader and also zhongli dating childe
Replaced
Genre: Angst
Character(s)/reader: Zhongli, Childe, Male Reader, minor Aether, Paimon, and Hu Tao
DNI: Non-mlm/nblm, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers
You were finally out. You had been sealed away by Zhongli for who knows how long, but today you finally made it out. As you took in the scenery, you saw that Liyue was very different. Sure some things you noticed were the same, but you stumbled across the harbor. Liyue harbor, it looked a lot different than when it was first established.
You made your way down there and the first thing you thought of was finding Zhongli. As you searched around the harbor, you received weird stares for your more old timey attire. You heard whispers amongst the stares talking about how you dressed like an adeptus, but they had never heard of you. It made you feel small and out of place, though you guessed you were. This definitely was way after you had been sealed away.
You decided to finally just ask for help, hoping that Zhongli still went by Zhongli. You spotted a boy with golden blonde hair and odd attire. To be honest, his odd clothing made you feel less alone, so you chose to ask him for help.
You tapped his shoulder and took a deep breath, "Excuse me sir, do you know where I can find Zhongli?" Your voice came out a bit broken since it had been years since you used it.
"Zhongli? Yeah! He works at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. We could show you the way!" His floating white haired companion said. You thanked them and let them lead you to the place. You were anxious, it had been such a long time since you saw Zhongli, what if he didn't remember you?
Nonsense, he promised he'd wait for when the war was over and you could be together. Though...the war was long over, so what if he did forget?
The walk there seemed short since you were stuck in your thoughts. You thanked them again, and opened the door to see a brown haired girl.
"Hi there! Need a coffin?" She asked enthusiastically. You shook your head and explained you were looking for Zhongli.
"Zhongli? He's not working today. He's out smooching with that ginger fatui." She fakes a gag when mentioning the "ginger fatui".
"Smooching?" You had never heard that term before, so you couldn't help but ask.
"You know, kissing making out all that cheesy stuff." She explained. Your heart dropped at her words. She noticed the irritated look on your face, but before she could say anything you left.
Zhongli was with another. A ginger fatui. What's a fatui? Was it some kind of description word, or was it a job? You felt like crying, not only at the fact that Zhongli had forgotten all about the promise he made to you, but also because you felt so out of place. You felt stupid not knowing these modern terms and items. You felt so weak despite being a powerful adeptus.
You bumped into someone without noticing. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears and you had been looking down, so you didn't notice anyone walking in front of you. You mumbled an apology, but stopped midway as you looked up.
Ginger. The man you had bumped into was a ginger, the only ginger you had ever seen. And by the looks of it, the only ginger in Liyue harbor at this time. You stared at him, anger and jealousy present in your chest.
You had to admit, he was handsome and by the way he spoke, charming too. You could tell why Zhongli chose him. The anger in your heart disappeared as it was replaced with sadness. The tears that were in your eyes finally fell, you felt completely overwhelmed by all the new information you got today.
"A-ah are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry for bumping into you." He said feeling a bit confused. You shook your head to both of those questions. He didn't know what to do, he didn't want to leave you there alone. Especially since earlier he saw you with the traveler, that had to mean something right? You looked pretty powerful and important.
You heard footsteps walking towards you and recognized the deep and sophisticated voice that spoke. Zhongli, he was there. You didn't listen to what he was saying to the ginger, you were frozen. You didn't want to look up, scared of what might happen if you do.
"Excuse me sir, what's your name?" You heard him ask, confusion present on his face as he looked at your clothing. He didn't remember any adepti like you, yet you were dressed like one.
So he really did forget about you. The confirmation made you choke on a sob. You felt so embarrassed and weak for crying in public, but you couldn't help it. The tears wouldn't stop flowing down your face no matter how hard you tried to stop them.
You wished Zhongli never sealed you away. This situation you were in is more heartbreaking than the death you would've inevitably faced.
Zhongli and Childe just looked at each other when you started crying. Childe tried to comfort you, but it wasn't helping. They both brought you to a restaurant and gave you some food and water despite you saying you weren't hungry.
"So...do you not remember your name?" The ginger asked as you scarfed down your food.
You swallowed and mumbled, "My name is (Name)." Before going back to your food. Zhongli's brows furrowed as if he was deep in thought, you could practically see the gears turning in his head.
"Oh! Well my name is Childe and this is my boyfriend Zhongli." He said a bit too enthusiastically for your current mood. Boyfriend....the ache in your chest started to come again. You thanked them for the meal and teleported away before they could see anymore tears. Childe was in awe, so you were powerful.
"(Name)..." Zhongli whispered to himself after you disappeared. That name felt so familiar, and your power seemed so familiar too. He hadn't remembered any adepti with your power, but he could tell you were one. Where had you come from? Just who were yo-
I didn't really know how I could like put in the fact that the reader was an adeptus without it seeming out of place, but I think I did pretty okay (hopefully).
My fics lately have been Zhongchi vs reader and each time Zhongchi wins 😔
I accidentally scheduled this post. I was not intending to post this so soon after posting my other fic. Ig it's kinda a good thing tho considering this took me forever to write (sorry abt that btw)
Can you guys give me some request for sukugo x male reader fanfics. I started some fics but all of them leave me uninterested and one is probably gonna have to be split into two parts(gojo hasn't even been mentioned). Also school ends in two days so my teachers are just giving me finals and projects. so can i just get some ideas??? pretty please??
what if enemies to lovers w jock sukugo, basically lets say sukuna plays rugby and gojo plays football and like they see m reader, but m reader isnt like those stereotypical nerd in fanfics and stuff, make m reader a popular nerd but he's helpful towards other ppl, sukuna and gojo tries to fight for m readers affection, they make a bet who m reader is gonna fall for, BUT m reader likes the both of them
basically a standard college au with enemies to lovers(?)
It is CANON gojo is STRAIGHT. Gege said in an interview in Japan he is ONLY into females AND it’s shown in the manga and anime.
It is CANON megumi is STRAIGHT. Gege said in an interview in Japan he is ONLY into females with strong personalities AND it’s shown in the manga and anime.
It is CANON Nanami is STRAIGHT. Gege said in an interview in Japan he is ONLY into females mainly smart ones AND it’s shown in the manga and anime.
It is CANON geto is STRAIGHT. Gege said in an interview in Japan he is ONLY into females mainly shy ones AND it’s shown in the manga and anime.
D1 homophobe gang 🥀
Its FANfiction for a reason 🤯
Crazy how sensitive you are over FICTIONAL characters, ho trust and believe Gege do NOT care that ppl make GAY fanfics abt them 😭🙏
ꕥ Warnings: Male reader, male x male, amab, m4m, mlm, m!reader, bottom reader, Sylus x M!Reader, tutoring, husband Sylus, tutor Sylus, drop-out reader, back to school reader, pet name: darling/baby/my love, fluff, cuddling, kiss, sitting on lap
ꕥ Want more similar content? Head over to my masterlist <3
There's a small note on the table, accept or decline??
Accepted!!
Reading: "Done and I am happy with the outcomes of the love and deepspace fics, tbh I like this one more. I'll start writing the random section starting with Kpop. Anyhow, enjoy this one and take your time to read it ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა"
𝐓𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.
You were a school dropout, leaving middle school to start working instead. Why? It was because your family was struggling financially, so you decided to help them. While working, you made a friend, a co-worker named Sylus. Sylus was also in middle school but worked part-time; he was only two years older than you. Ever since the two of you met, you have been on multiple hangouts, which eventually turned into dates. You grew closer each day as time passed. Occasionally, the two of you would sneak out of work to go on a date. Eventually, you started dating officially and were together for about four years. Sylus waited until you turned 20 to marry you. When he told you this, you were overwhelmed with positive emotions and agreed to wait.
Now, the two of you have been happily married for four years, making you 24 and him 26. After turning 24, you received a letter saying you could study again for three years like a normal student, though you would be a bit older. A one in a million opportunity!! You, of course, accepted the opportunity to go back to school to finish and graduate. Sylus agreed to tutor you because he had finished school and graduated. He was quite smart (a lot smarter than you) when he was in school, even becoming the top student back then.
Present time…
You were at home in the study room, sitting down on the floor by a table. Books and papers spread out, pouting out of anger because you couldn’t finish your homework and barely understood anything. “Gosh, homework is hard…” you mumbled under your breath. Sylus heard you, looking up as his red eyes met your (e/c) ones. He lifted his hand to adjust his glasses, the corner of his lips turning into a subtle smile as he took your hand in his, squeezing it softly. “Relax, darling, you can handle it.” Sylus sighed and squeezed your hand once more, continuing, “I’m here after all, helping you, tutoring you until the very end.”
A small blush crept up your cheeks as you looked away, continuing to pout. “Unfair… You can’t be smart and hot at the same time, so unfair…” you said in a low tone so he wouldn’t hear you. Rolling your eyes, you continued to mumble. Sylus chuckled softly, watching as his husband continued to mutter. “I’m not deaf, sweetie. Now, let’s continue, shall we? We can’t waste any more time; you have to turn this in tomorrow.”
“Ugh, I hate how you’re right… Can’t believe there’s homework even in college.” you say looking back at him with half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, rolling your eyes again.
“You should be happy it’s homework and not a project like all the other groups in your college,” Sylus said in a soft tone, pulling you onto his lap, which made you yelp in surprise. He practically straddled you on his lap to keep you close, wrapping his left arm around your waist and staring deeply into your eyes. A smirk spread across his face as he spoke up, “Now, finish your homework properly while I explain it to you, okay? I don’t want my darling to fail~”
Your whole face flushed red, eyes going slightly wide as you looked away. Muttering under your breath, you nodded obediently and turned around to do your homework, still on his lap. Sylus looked proud of his attempts; it wasn’t the first time he did this while you were doing your homework. He had done this before, and it always ended the same way: you obeying and finishing up while he tutored you.
Sylus leans forward so his chest is pressed against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder as he keeps his arm around you. He explains how it works while you write everything down. After hours of tutoring and completing the homework, you are finally done. Yippie!! It was hard, but Sylus was there to guide you through everything, taking his time and explaining everything to you. If you didn’t understand after one explanation, he tried a different way, explaining in every possible way until you completely understood.
Sighing in relief after finishing, you lean your body against his, feeling the exhaustion slowly set in. Sylus chuckles and looks down at you, squeezing your waist before slowly caressing your side, moving his hand down to your thigh. His expression softens, and he smiles warmly. “Not bad, baby. You did well, for now,” Sylus says, kissing the crown of your head. You nod slightly as your gaze shifts from the papers to his hand, enjoying his warm touch. You lift your hand and rest it on his, gently caressing his hand with your thumb.
“School’s exhausting, I can’t believe I forgot how exhausting it is,” you say in a soft tone, turning around to meet his soft and loving gaze. He looks at you attentively, watching your every move, as he removes his working glasses and places them on the table beside him. Even without them, he looks as handsome as ever, though you have to admit, he does look slightly hotter with his working glasses on. Sighing softly, you continue to look at him. “I want to sleep. Let’s go to bed.”
Sylus agrees and picks you up, carrying you all the way to the master bedroom. He closes the door behind him and gently throws you onto the bed when he reaches it. Climbing on top of the bed, he lays down beside you, pulling you closer to close the gap between you. He wraps his arms around you and rests your head on his chest, pulling the bed covers up to cover both of you. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away. Cuddling so close to him that you feel his body heat and he feels yours, you only make each other warmer, but you also get to be closer to him.
“Sleep well and sweet dreams. Dream of me and only me, my love♡”
You giggle softly and nod. “Then, I wish for you to do the same, love♡”
I'm so sorry but I don't think tumblr willlet me show the [EXPUNGED] and [CLASSIFIED) made out of tootsie rolls, so have these instead. IMMA SUMMONING MY MOOTS!!!
