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[blorbobird]

One shot fic | Jegulus (hint of Jily + Jegulily?). Regulus is on tour for his second album. He’s got everything he’s wanted … or so he’s thought? Paranoia fucks with a person.

There was chunky, glittery silver eye shadow smudged on Regulus' lids. Dark, kohl liner placed intricately in his waterline. He blamed both for the tears in his eyes. 

"Fuck," He cleared his throat. "Yeah, no. I'm fine." He forces out of his throat. His voice raspy and hoarse, he'd blame that on the singing. Forcing a smile he looks into his reflection. 

Lifeless green eyes staring back at himself. Looking as if all the color has drained from the world, even though everyone runs about him in a mess of rainbow chaos confetti. 

A cigarette is passed to him and he takes it gingerly between his knuckles. Snapping himself out of his trance. 

"You look like you got the shit fucked out of you," Barty says casually in such polite phrasing. Fingers free from any blunts. Passing a drumming stick between his fingers in a mindless, constant rotation. 

"Depends," Regulus winces. Looking to his friend for guidance towards opinion. Inhaling a shaky break. "In a good way or in a bad way?" Exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose.

A smirk carves up the drummer's features in such a wicked, humored way. "A good way because you're so damn good looking," Reaching a hand forward and reassuringly messing up the Black boy's dark curls. "You could make anything look devilishly handsome."

"Almost ready?" A new voice chimes in. Barty's hand snapping away at the tone of it. "Two minutes for-." Evan sing songs as he skips over to the trio. His smile fading just as quickly as he appeared as he takes in Regulus persona. "What the bloody hell happened to you?" 

"He's fine," Barty says quickly.

"I'm fine." Regulus says. Smile and all.

It's a lie, they all know it. Evan begins to search the singer's eyes for a story to tell but they say nothing. Not a single detail. Not a single scrap. The blonde male doesn't have one ounce of an idea to what made him such a torn apart tragedy in just a break's time. But it's Barty's eyes who give it away. Barty's eyes who say it all.

A quick flicker, a if-you-blinked-you-missed-it glance, towards the opposite side of the closed curtains. Before he looks back. Quickly clocking his mistake and giving a warning glance to the guitarist.

Evan's eyes follow the movement and it clicks into place. Not all, but most. James Potter, Regulus' boyfriend and heart throb actor, and his ex girlfriend Lily Evans. They all knew her, they all loved her, they all trusted her. She had a personal invite and all to this, the Madison Square Garden performance. 

A personal invite their dear hearted singer was just now beginning to regret.

They stood so close to each-other. So, so close yet not touching. His hands were in his pockets, hers were on her hips. Whispering to each-other so intently a joke no one understands but them. It made Regulus' insecurities grow. Manifest themselves worser into existence. Dark and cruel.

If Regulus cut himself open he was half sure his blood would be green. Envy itself. Spilling onto the floor.

The entire first half of the show Regulus dance and twirled and screamed and sang. Every eye on him. Beside the pair of eyes he wanted most. The ones he always had on him, with love and adoration. Finishing the first set he was lowered beneath the stage but this time ... his boyfriend was there waiting.

A quick water break and costume change later he left his private bus to see it. Them. Drinking coffees on their way back. Their hips so close they should've practically been holding hands.

Paranoia. Paranoia. Regulus had to stop. It was all in his brain. 

Lily and James hadn't seen each-other in person for months. Simply old friends reconnecting on lost time. It was all in his head. It was all in-

A brush of red. It all became a blur.

The next moment James saw Regulus he stopped talking to Lily he ran over, and picked him up. Bringing him close. James smelled of flowers, perfume, and not the artists cologne or his very own. The moments replaying in Regulus' head. 

The pull away moment from the hug. The brief second. Half there, hardly. The small smudge of red lipstick on James' white shirt collar, just near his open throat. Eyes securing onto it before just the slightest movement of him rearranged it unknowingly into concealed perfection.

Had he hallucinated it? James didn't look freshly kissed. But his skin was flushed ... perhaps it was the alcohol.

Regulus stared at Lily than, for clues, for anything. But she only smiled back. Thanked him. Perfectly confused.

Did he? Did she? Did they? Or was he-

Panic had sunk deep into his bones. Regulus quickly dismissed himself for stage. A passing of 'enjoy the rest of the show!' before he stood brainless in front of the makeup crew. Them, stamping on shadow and powder. Putting a microphone in his hand as the fans roared on outside.

Eight minutes, the longest break in the show for Regulus, has turn into the worst eight minutes of his life. He felt like he was gonna vomit glitter. Spew his guts all over the stage but all it would be was plastic jewels and purple star confetti.

What time was it-

"Oh," Evan frowns. "You don't look to well-"

"Rosier, it's your turn to enter in—" Their manager, Mr. Riddle, suddenly enters the scene. Shooing Evan away to the right. "Then Regulus I want you- how'd you get fucked in five minutes?" He stops as he looks at the pale performer. "Or at you sick? I can't tell."

"It's intentional." Barty informs. Giving a 'cut it own' movement across the throat when Reggie isn't looking his way.

"I got glitter in my eye." Regulus repeats like its lyrics. Like it's words he knows so well, "I'm so fine."

But it falls on deaf ears. 

"Perfect! You're up. Barty to the left-" The crowd nearly drowns him out because Evan finally got on cue. The drummer follows. Regulus stands alone.

Feeling the beat of the count down drumming in his ears. 

A final glance to Lily and James is all it takes. 

He's moving towards them, away from his entrance.

"Oh!" James tears his eyes away from Lily, finally. Finally! Yes, stop looking at her- "It's time already." He's lost track of time again. He's lost track of Regulus. He's not his center clock anymore. "Love, you look-" Words fall short as he takes in his boyfriend's appearance.

"Go find your seat," The pop star smiles out so perfectly, such a chipper tone. He's so good at faking smiles. "I'll find you after," A solid nod. Forty seconds. He's unphased.

James goes in for a kiss, Regulus turns his head last minute. A brush of warm lips awkwardly meeting cold skin.

He pulls away. Confusion etched in his eyes but Regulus smiles, and he smiles some more. 'Go on,' he seems to say without saying anything at all.

'I'll look into that after,' James thinks. Trying not to be concerned. Maybe Regulus was ... no best not to think of such dark things now. No time. He'll figure it out later. After. Now there was a show.

"Come 'n, Lils." James nods, walking away from the stage towards his seat. Twenty five seconds.

The ginger girl follows. Giving two thumbs up of encouragement towards Reggie but his smile drops at her from the action.

He's staring at her red lips. That damn, stupid lipstick. Whatever the shade was, was ruining his mental health.

He doesn't even think to do it. Infact, he doesn't think at all.

Grabbing her chin with his ringed hand he pulls her towards him. Wanting a stain of his own. His mouth on hers, her mouth on his. Perhaps just to test how easily it wipes away. Perhaps just to send a message.

Once, twice. They kiss.

Lily nearly reciprocates it but Regulus is too quick, too chaotic. Removing his touch from her all together. Quick and sudden. Walking away with seven seconds to spare. 

Anger pumping through his veins. White knuckling the microphone. 

- 

James Potters stands at his seat front row. Wondering why his boyfriend has a smudge of lipstick on his lips in the enlarged motion-following video on the right of his stage. Features so clear he could practically see his pores. 

He wonders why Lily won't meet his eyes. What happened? It couldn't? They were alone for two seconds? Why would Reggie-

"I have a new song," Regulus says into his microphone as he adjusts his ear piece. The audience goes wild and in return he smiles. A cheeky, people pleasing bastard. "That's never been played in public,"

He's walking on the stage as he talks. Green Doc Martens, a white tank top with a bedazzled "Fuck You" on the center of his chest, acid wash jeans to match, and a shiny reflective jacket that makes him look slightly more mirrorball than human. It's a simple outfit. But he looks hot, he looks so fucking hot. 

Barty's in a leather jacket, Evan wears a denim one. They both wear an equally startled expression.

"My label hasn't let me officially release it yet but," He holds up a finger. More fans scream. An exclusive song performance. This never happens. Regulus always does what he's told! It must be a marketing tactic. "I think today's the day! Hm?"

He begins to sing.

And James Potter’s entire worlds shatters at the drop of his lips.

[blorbobird]

*dumps holy water over myself*

#lucemond #smut

Aemond is really quiet during sex when he’s not growling senseless dirty talk into Luke's skin.

Luke suspects it's because of a combination of factors - the cold environment he grew up in, his brother's influence, the experience that the less he gives away, the better he can protect himself - but the reason doesn't really matter. What does is that for the longest time, Luke doesn’t know how to make him lose control.

The revelation happens by accident. Luke is lying on his back with Aemond between his thighs, moving together lazily for the second time that night, when Luke turns his head in mindless bliss and sighs into Aemond's ear on his blind side.

Aemond makes a noise.

Luke's eyes snap open, but he pretends he hasn't noticed. He combs Aemond's hair away from his neck, pressing kisses to the skin there before he moves back up to Aemond's ear. At the next thrust, he moans.

Aemond whimpers back.

It's a glorious sound. Luke doesn't know what he's doing that undoes Aemond in such a bone-deep way, but he rolls with it, keeping his lips close to Aemond's ear as the pleasure builds. It doesn’t take long for Aemond to crack, and then he just moans into Luke's neck, over and over again until the peak.

They never talk about it.

But over the next few weeks, Luke keeps experimenting to figure it out. The realization comes to him when he tries to sneak up on Aemond from behind one day, and Aemond has him pinned to the wall before he can even blink. It's his hearing. It must be. It's probably more sensitive to compensate for the loss of his eye, at least on one side.

Giddiness bubbles in Luke's chest.

To test his theory, he rises to his tiptoes and whispers into Aemond's left ear. "How does this feel, uncle?"

A small sound escapes Aemond’s throat before he could catch himself.

[blorbobird]

i saw this and i had to sns 😂

[blorbobird]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

( another lucemond × taylor swift lyrics oneshot)

in which lucerys and aemond have a duel, and Luke licks Aemonds scar.

❛ But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time.❜

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

" Impossible."

Aemond whispers mainly to himself as the word falls dead, following with two decapitated bodies that sink onto the floor..

"I didn't want to do that," Lucerys looks up with an expressionless face. Aemond's the only one close enough, halting where he was as the pair of guards were slain in seconds, to see the trace of humour across the boy's eyes. His pride. The coldness in his eyes. "Look what you have me do." He tsks. It needed to be done.

This surely wasn't the Lucerys that Aemond had known all those years ago. Grown, sure. Alive, somehow. But skilled in the art of killing? That boy wasn't skilled in the smaller things let alone anything elegant or deadly. He once had issues holding anything heavy, speaking Valyrian correctly, keeping a serious face without cracking a smile or joke. That boy was nice, kind, seemingly innocent even if his uncle was the only one wiser to see past it.

Wise enough to now know that boy was dead. He died with Arrax. That boy drowned in the sea.

This man before him was skilled in all things elegant and deadly. Cruel, smart, hardened to Valyrian steel himself.

"But now that I have your attention," Luke begins again. Grabbing a sword that wasn't his — how insolent it is to show up to a duel unarmed — from one of the men he so easily killed.

He wipes the metal across the glittering dark fabric of his sleeve. Cleaning it carelessly with such an expensive fabric, an outfit all together no one in the court has ever seen. The material, the drape, the revealing skin. From the racier parts like Dorne perhaps? Somewhere farther? "I'd like to talk in the name of peace."

Peace? "Peace?!" Aemond chuckles darkly as he blinks out of his odd daze.

Unarmed himself, it was his engagement party after all, even in a time of war. One night before a wedding - you would think you'd be granted withsome peace? Instead, he has a whorish dressed reanimated corpse and blood shed on the great hall floor.

"Nothing about any of you Bastards are peaceful." he spits the term and squares his shoulders.

"No man standing in a pool of blood speaks of Peace." Alicent says, rising to her feet from where she sat at the table.

Lucerys looks down at where he stands. Boots already scuffed with blood. "Then I must go home and clean my shoes. I'll make this quick." He steps out of the puddle barring two swords.

Aemond is quick to dodge or tackle, becoming wise with his movement to not just pounce as he wishes to. Not after the flash of gore he just saw. Still stunned but the cogs in his mind work over his desires.

Instead, however, he isn't attacked. He's handed one of the two guardsmen swords and simply … walked past? Disregarded as a whole.

"My mother let you free," Lucerys begins. Ignoring Aemond or the court of eyes on him. "You were bound in chains weren't you?" His eyes dance as he looks at Alicent. "If not a week before today?"

The second eldest boy pounces at that and Lucerys side steps without even having to turn. Eyes turn to look at his — no longer that deep, chocolate brown he's grown accustomed to — but a vibrant green. Jade green. Made and gone with a flash. He doesn't know if anyone else sees but it makes his blood run cold. The tip of a sword presses his adams apple and Alicent yelps at the quick interaction.

"Behave." Lucerys warns cooly before eyes turn back.

Aemond looks to his wife, his soon to be bride, Alys. Wondering if she saw? If she was able to tell? She was a witch, older and wise. Perhaps she would know what-

"Yes!" Alicent says with a panicked gulp. Regaining her confidence but worried glances to her preferred son every so often. "Your mother now sits on the Iron Throne. She laid siege to King's Landing when Harrenhaal was overtaken-"

"And all the Strongs were killed." Lucerys drops his borrowed sword. Voice a sickening octave lower. "I am aware." His boots echo on the hard polished flooring. Making his way over to the largest table to which he stands back in front of before the little 'altercation' with his arrest. "All but you."

Lucerys and Alys match eye contact. Two Strongs, one a bastard, the other another kind as well.

Alys speaks softly but clear. Her voice edged with the wisdom that comes with age. "Im sorry, who are you again?" She stands, too. Warying of her husband's current predicament.

She looks to her husband. Silently wondering if she should intervene herself but he gently shakes his head no.

Lucerys grins finally. "Oh, No need to apologize," He takes a step closer. "Lucerys Velaryon. The dead son of your Queen Rhaenyra, ruler of the seven kingdoms."

"She is not our queen." Aemond says steadily. Leaving the looks from his mother to stay focused on the back of his Nephews skull. "And you are not our prince. The dead do not wear crowns and neither do bastards."

Lucerys doesn't look back. He instead clasps his hands in front of him, twisting the blade in his palm so it reacts to the fire-lit torches and fireplaces scattered across the room. The Great Hall of a Hundred Hearths. Not actually, but famous for its size. Its fire power. They were all surrounded by flames. As Targaryens should be.

"She's quite beautiful, your wife," He feels the cool metal of Aemonds sword presses to the back of his throat. He turns to look up and at the bride to be. Unwavering. "Nice eyes, curly dark hair … such Strong features!" He's amused and the groom isnt. Frankly, no one in the room is besides the 'dead' Prince.

"Stop talking or I'll make you."

Alicent interjects. Nervously picking at the flesh around her nails. "What say you of peace?" Her eyes are sad. Stressed. She's seen many things, she's tired. Arent they all? "Rhaenyra let me go. I still don't know why… has she accepted the offer I purposed?"

Lucerys know's well of this. A plea Alicent made to her former friend when the bloodshed had turned brutal for the Greens. Capital over taken, Haelena's son murdered brutally, all the fire and blood. An offer to split the Realm. For the Reach, Stormlands and Westerlands all to fall to the Greens. Mostly the rest to fall to the Blacks. In the moment Rhaenyra refused.

Jacerys had come back alive, however. Unknowingly to the opposite party thanks to his younger brother. He made it to Westeros in time. Now it was his turn to balance out the game. The tilted stage would be no more..

"No," He says clearly. "My mother has lost alot. We all have. She will not give up the throne, her birthright, and she shouldnt," Turning to face Aemond slowly. Blade now pressed to the front of his throat. "Just because men with their small cocks can't put their egos aside and admit-"

"I will slay you once more!" Aemond roars. Teeth gritted. "Make it final this time!"

"Then do it, Uncle." He says the word like a swear. Something he shouldn't be saying, something Aemond doesn't like hearing on his lips. "Kill me … That is your name after all, right?"

"Aemond-" Its Alicent, or Alys, neither are quite sure. A warning but its too late.

Luke whispers it. "Kinslayer."

A clash of metal as Luke slices up to meet the sword threatening his life. Weapons with worthy opponent's, finally. After all these years.

"I SAID SILENCE!" Aemond screams. He's seeing red, usually boasting on his so-called well level headed mind. Luke is an exception. Luke was taunting personified. Temptation, blood lust, ruin. Every nerve struck and blazing.

His nephew speaks louder to meet him, although not yelling.

"Kill me then!" They hit and switch, a circle of pattern forming. "Why? Are you not Strong enough?" He mocks and their feet move to balance eachother out.

Anyone who is near close enough to intervene, accidentally or personally, has their skin sliced to ribbons and moved away. It becomes prevalent quickly: Lucerys was Aemond's to finish. Or rather, with how it's looking, vice versa, perhaps.

"How does it feel?" Lucerys swings and Aemond ducks gracefully. "To be marked with me not once but twice?! Permanently."

Aemond slices up from his low point and is met with a defensive block. "I hope to return the favour threefold."

Not just his wounded face, but his name. Aemond One Eye. Aemond the Kinslayer. No matter what he did, Lucerys left his mark on him in more ways than imaginable. All the way then and still present to this day. Even in those days, months, years, lacking the middle born Valeryons presence. His impact was written all over him, marked and ruined.

It was a dance of swords. People gasp and others scream, some flee and some stay to watch. A pivotal moment in the war perhaps. Bloodshed or not the audiences always like a show.

Lucerys fights like he was born to kill, and Aemond fights like he already has. Targaryen on Targaryen. How it should of been all those years ago in Storm's End. How the Dance Over Shipbreak Bay should have gone. But Lucerys swore not to fight, a messanger and nothing more.

But times change. People do. Revenge corrupts the mind and karma always somes back around. For worse and for better.

Lucerys had become corrupt and still hadn't known if he, himself liked it. But he's dreamed of this moment for as long as he could remember. Since he picked up a sword all those months ago, since that night.

Aemond close enough to feel that furious body heat radiating off of him. Hotter then all hundred furnances combined. It warmed Lucerys blood to be this close. Taste the victory off the spray of hard-worked and close-encourted sweat.

Muscles ached as arms swung and blades clashed. Quick on his feet. Moving like those water-dancers taught him. Using his larger opponents weight against them, like the Dothraki showed him.

Aemond had yet to learn where all this skin came from. He'd only ever seen Daemon with such talent, to which he carried such envy. This was different. Something that excited him more, maybe because of who it was. Maybe the setting. Lucerys had been too good, too pure for him. He was something violent now, something wild. Like a white mare, perhaps. Something to be tamed. Something to be won and killed.

He didnt expect blood to be drawn with such difficulty. Especially not expecting it to be himself, the first to bleed.

A sword swipes up and the material around his bicep tears. Quick, nothing. Yet everything all at once as he feels just enough air meet him. A paper cut equivalent but with meaning. Three beads of scarlet form. Stunned from those three drops alone. The Strong Bastard made him bleed?

Lucerys crouched at the ready and, as he had been trained to do after first blood, called out: “Do you yield?”

Aemond pounced, and this time he twisted to the right where Luke had been dodging. "You continue to amaze me."

"My talent?" Twisting away to the left.

A scoff. "Your lack of wit!"

Swords flashed like they were lit in fire. Light reflecting off of them like lightening striking. The sounds echo. Their own private thunderstorm.

Lucerys slices again, Aemond dodges. The dance continues. All side stepping and swaying and ducking. Second born princes, dragon born sons. The fiery passion is met here and its a sight to see even if they themselves, can't witness these acts.

The Bastard is wearing hardly any armour, rather none at all. With his chest exposed it makes and easy target and the second the elder gets an opportunity, he ceases it. A slash across the chest, right above the best.

Luke groans and stumbles back for half a second. Glittering and pretty. The brief image of licking the blood off his breast crosses Aemond's mind, for some unknown reason, but it exits as quickly as it enters. Both men radiate with power, or maybe its just tension that fills the room.

A few more gashes there and there. Cuts and scars but nothing fatal or worthy of pause. They're skilled and deadly and quickly.

Lucerys wants to see what he did the last time him and his uncle fought like this. Curious to see his actions turned into proof. "Let me see those pretty eyes of yours-" He glides the focus of his weapon up.

The string of Aemond's eye patch is cut and it falls.

Perhaps its too close to home, it triggers something in him. He becomes feral with violence. His sapphire eye glints in the fire as well so bright Luke could swear it was vivid emotion.

"I dont want to kill you, Uncle!" Lucerys yells as Alicent screams nonsense somewhere beyond them. Probably saying much of the same.

"I want your eye!" Aemond yells and surges forward. He swings, Lucerys jumps high enough at the knees to miss. It meets the handle of his sword however as Luke's mind twirls with ways for this not to end with more bloodshed.

He's killed him in his dreams, he's planned this for years, why does this suddenly feel wrong? Why second guess now?! All those moments pining and waiting for this opportunity. Aemond, the top of his list. He could have his head in seconds!

Ruin, destroy, maim, kill. Revenge is a dish best served cold. No more weakness, finish what you came here to do.

A hand around his narrow waist as he steadies from the jump, loose legged and pulled close. Bodies clash. Fire on fire.

"It'll only take a second—" Aemond grins evilly but his movements are cut short.

Lucerys is finally close enough to see the damage he's done so many ages ago. The skin on his face is red, his scar white. The color of the jewel is a brilliant blue.

The arch of the blade in the air halted. Lucerys, maybe spending too much time with those savage people in Essos, does the first unplanned thing that comes to mind.

He licks Aemond's scar.

Clean across his face. He doesn't know why but its done and nearly every one has seen. A warm tongue against ever-burning flesh. He can taste the metallic twinge of salty sweat clearly now.

Aemond's body freezes and his good eye flashes with multiple volumes of hate. Registering with pain and shock and something else. Mocking him?! Like this?! On his pre-wedding day. How much humiliation must this boy lay upon him-

Its the last thing Aemond remembers before he somehow blacks out.

[blorbobird]

lucemond × taylor swift lyrics

uploading to yet another fanfic because lucerys in his reputation era is all i needed

[blorbobird]

Daemon finally understanding why Viserys was so stressed 😘

Karma is a bitch😁

[blorbobird]

BEWJEWLED (ONESHOT)

a silly little lucemond one shot based on a taylor swift song because i like the idea of luke getting revenge.

( in which a 'resurrected' elder Lucerys crashes Aemonds engagement ball to Alys three years after his 'death'. Both boys have changed. ) unedited.

The doors open and Aemond's mouth shuts. 

Lucerys, grown, and so much changed since last he saw him. It had been such a while since they interacted previously. A violent altercation wiped away momentarily at the new sight before him.

He had been such a beautiful child. Whisping curls that curved around his face so stunningly. A gentle flush of cheeks, a narrowly built body, and a boyishness that never quite left his features. His laugh was haughty and aloof. Aemond use to stare at him and admire it all, even before the incident. He envied him.

With time it only got worse. If Luke had been a pretty boy, he had become something far more deadly with age. Something near offensive to look at.

Rhaenyra had carried the title of being the Realm's Delight, a trait that seemingly passed to the middle born child of the Valeryons. They denied many things about those kids, but no one could deny that.

But with beauty comes distraction, with every rose comes thorns. The boy was violent as any other but it was all hidden amongst striking looks and cheeky statements. A swift strike of the a blade taught Aemond that. He learned many things that night. Above all to never again fall for pretty things — they are as  splendid as they were deceiving.

With time, Aemond secretly hoped, the boy would turn ugly. That karma or some other unspeakable force would strike him down. Humble him. A pug-nose or warts or early wrinkles and sagginess. Whatever things hags in childhood bedtime stories had been cursed with.

But no, he was fit. In shape. Broad shoulders and sharper cheakbones and … it was all so unfair. Whatever things in fairytales that made princesses undoubtedly stunning had graced Lucerys with such traits. He had grown with grace and beauty.

It made Aemond's insides curl unexpectedly. In a way he hadnt known, a way he despised. Like posion spreading through his veins. Dark and sickly. 

This was mockery. Public mockery. At his wedding no less! 

Aemond stares with a hollowed gaze as Lucerys struts in. Everyone is silent. Alicent is frozen, Alys is confused.

All stunned , maybe because the second eldest Targaryen stood to talk prior, to cheers his new bride at this, their engagement party. Aemond knew rather well it was because it was the entry of the new presence. That the silence once started for civility had turned to a silence for a lack of words.

A dead man walking. 

The light reflects off him, jacket glittery as midnight stars. Skin pure and untouched. Too perfect. No bruises or marks or warts. He had never been that lucky, apparently.

Aemond wanted to have the boys flesh under his fingertips. To mark him up, scratches and bites. Tears and gashes. Give him something worthy of scarring. Something violent, yes. 

He had become frozen and he hasn't noticed it. His gaze turned hard enough to burn a hole into the boy now standing across the table from him. Less than five feet, he could easily jump across the barrier and tackle him to the floor. Nothing could stop him. No one. He could pin him in front of everyone with any of the many cutlery knives in hand and— 

"Sorry Im late," Luke finally speaks. Looking from Alys to the groom. Where the elder male stands frozen still. "I've perhaps lost my invitation? Never got the time correct."

This cant be. He cant be alive — he saw him die. He killed him, watched that dragon tear the younger apart as its rider fell into the sea...

This must be a hoax. A lie. This can't be the boy, instead perhaps an imposter. It was neither, instead it was karma. Karma for his crimes.

Many thoughts crossed his mind but first and foremost: How had he survived? Fisher men … mermaids? No, they swam in the distant sea opposite to Shipbreaker Bay. Was this witchery, sorcery? 

"Apologies for the interruption," Lucerys continues looking from the queen regent to her sons. Alicent looks so shocked that she may become nauseous. The green color of her dress reflecting in her cheeks. "Continue."

Her eyes scaning over the young males visage. His body. She hides a scowl at how exposed he was. The silver star-designed chains that wrap around his waist line like a jeweled belt. The eyeliner. All the rings and worst of all, the exposed chest. No one seemingly but the Hightowers had an issue with it. Remembering how much Rhaenyra's sons had become like her, how much he had been. Even before he died. 

Or disappeared, apparently.

Lucerys notices this and refrains his expression as well. A smirk ghosting on his mouth. "Oh," Luke clears his throat and finally looks too Aemond under dark lashes. Voice near taunting. "Am I interrupting?" 

Foolish perhaps, to barge in alone. By himself and armed with nothing.

'Idiot should be armed to the teeth' Aemond lowers his goblet at the thought. The boy would die publically for this. He'd watch him die all over again : this time he would make sure. He'd do it himself. Yes. Himself! No one else would be allowed to touch him until the job was done.

They were already at war — the Greens and the Blacks. This would make no difference. They were all too far gone to turn back now. What was done was done, and the only way through was forward. Surely this had been a move by Rhaenyra, a taunting metaphor for sending her son out alone, once more.

A red herring.

Little had they known it wasn't her doing. Rather, Lucerys alone. He had grown up quite well over the last three years in more ways than one. Death changes a person just as life does.

He would meet up with her afterwards along with Daemon. With Jace and Jofferey and the remains of his family. Show him his plan after it was executed.

"Someone seize him!" Alicent says finally, standing as the murmurs kick in around the room. Guards begin to move, Ser Criston ready to kill him if asked. Even if he isn't requested as such.

Aemond moves finally as he sees this. His cup is down and he's moving across the table. No one's allowed to touch him. He must observe for himself to see if this was real. If Lucerys was alive and breathing and Gods be damned to whomever tries to intervene.

Luke doesn't flinch at all as many people come towards him. He's lost his dragon, his family, his title. He has crossed the Summer Sea, traveled and conquered areas of Essos. He's seen magic in these last years. Trained with sword and battle strategy. Both met and survived the Dothraki. 

Surely, he can handle a few guards and their petty little knives.

He's Lucerys the Conqueror, the Survivor, the Reborn, Prince of the Tides and Son of the Sea. Three years changes a man. Now, they will all get the reckoning they deserve.

[blorbobird]

Lucerys: why dont we just ask them nicely —

Aemond: It's not typically how I get my information.

Lucerys : How do you typically do it?

Aemond : I find the person and then I put the fear of god into them until they talk ... but we can try it your way.

[blorbobird]

Lucerys : If I died how much would you miss me?

Aemond: It’s cute that you think dying will get you out of this relationship.

[blorbobird]

Lucemond × Hogwarts AU

( in which luke is hospitalized for the damage aemond's caused, aemonds gone into an unexpected spiral, and haelena calls him on his bullshit )

Not even death could grant Lucerys the peace of absolute silence.

There he laid in the hospital wing, unconscious and sore, unable to open a single eye or be too aware of pretty much anything. It all had been in an out. Murmurs, dazy pictures and blurred vision in the brief moments he could gather the strength to open up his eyes. None of it mattered and none of it made sense anyway.

The only thing that notified him that he was infact alive had been the voices. His brother's, his mums, other indistinct ones that merged into Charlie-Brown background chatter. It had started to get more frequent and clear with time. Merlin only knows how long he's been out for. 

"You think he'll be okay?" His mother, Rhaenyra's, sweet voice asked a disembodied person on the other side of his hosptial bed.

Deep, humored, masculine. "Maybe just a nasty headache for a few days," Daemon, possibly. "If he was in any real serious danger Id make sure Aemond's stupid little head was hanging above my fire place right now."

Yes. Definitely Daemon.

"The boy should be expelled." Rhaenyra says in an upset, low voice. Over protective as always and playing with the image of Aemond's head on a pike even now.

"Lucerys apparently provoked him," Daemon says with all but an eye roll. It isnt that hard to believe, the boy is mouthy, but he is also lively aware how quickly that damned group of people twist things. " Hightower convinced detention until the end of term. Its obvious however that a number of people don't want Aemond's name withdrawaled from the tournament before they even get the chance to see whom is entered."

The two brief meeting they had on this topic hadnt gone well. Lannister, Cole, Hightower and even Baratheon such all voting in favor. Rhaenys had settled no expulsion until the boy woke up. It probably helped also that Aemond himself made no argument towards any of this. He had also been the one to carry Lucerys to the infirmary seconds later, wasting no time, but such a small useless detail meant nothing.

Especially to Rhaenyra. Who saw his subtle regret when no one else was looking, but also knew damn well that reckless male was the reason her precious boy was harmed at all.

Lucerys feels something warm squeeze his hand and he groans in response. Trying to squeeze it back but he doesn't have the energy. He wants to comfort his mother, tell her that he's okay and wrap her in a silly big hug so her voice stops sounding so broken. So concerned. 

More murmurs and a kiss on the forehead before he truly dozes off again.

☛

His next memory feels like eons later but in actuality, all it had been was a day. He lays unconcious, trying to get feeling in his finger tips, wiggling them at his sides.

It had been under Jace's watch during the night. His older brother hadnt left his side since he heard about the incident and frankly Jacerys blamed himself for it. 

Had it been all that damaging? No. A few first-degree burn marks on his arms that were currently being healed away with potion and herbs. The fiendfyre hadnt gotten close enough to wound by the time Rhaenys said the cancellation spell.

A pair of singed off bodyhair had been the remaining crux of it. His eyebrows had grew back in within a few hours thanks to the Maester's knowledge of hair replacement charms. 

"He's quite pretty," Haelena said so quietly to the point where if Lucerys had been fully conscious, he would've jumped out of his skin. Not even aware of her presence. "Like sleeping beauty." 

She hums a tune and Jace smiles for the first time in several hours. "His hair is a bit longer with all these healing and hexes happening. He'll be livid." A gentle muse that has Lucerys gently sighing.

Wondering how fucked up he look, a piece of bacon with a glam-rock wig perhaps? He could only imagine the worst whilst he couldn't view the damage personally yet.

"I wanna play with it, its so curly," He feels finger tips gently stroke at the locks by his base of his neck. "But I dont wanna braid it until he allows me. Some people get grumpy with that." She thinks of Aemond. How he use to let her braid his hair but doesnt let anyone go near it anymore. A prank with Aegon got wrong, another story for another time. "Maybe some flowers though?" 

Jace's smile remains. "Perhaps," Humored at the thought.  "We can put them in before mom arrives in the morning. It think she'll like it too. Get those yellow ones he likes—" 

Foot steps enter then a humored voice. "There you two are!," It sounds petty, somewhat accusatory, like the male doesnt like Haelena and Jace had been where he thought they were. Like he caught them doing something wrong instead of tending to a unconious family member. "Searching half the castle for my sweet little sister. Funny to find you here-"

"Aegon," Jace's voice no longer hints at kindness. "Not now. Go away," He'd been avoiding him since this happened yesterday. Nothing good can come from such a secret affair. Exhibit A was lying in the bed to prove as such.

The foot steps stop. "Oh, how you wound me," A hand over the heart with a dramatic sigh. "I just wanna talk,"

"Im busy-" 

"Just five minutes," He prompts and its quickly declined with a shake of the head from Jace. Haelena helps however persuading sides once she stares at her brother long enough to relaize motive.

"I can watch him," Her voice sweet and quiet. Like shes afraid to speak. "You havent even had a bathroom break or food in a while. A few mintues wont harm? Stretch out your legs."

Jacerys wants to comment that he has stretched out his legs with the eariler constant pacing enough, thank you and goodbye. But the way Aegon is looking at him, fists clasped at his sides, and sleepless. Along with the idea of food does hesitate the string of swear words all alluding to 'Fuck Off' and 'Begone, Slut' when Haelena looks at him like that. His dear precious aunt, who he respects and trusts so much more than the rest of the Hightower Clan.

A single glance back at Luke before he gives in. "Two mintued and two mintues only," Voice firm as he stands. Dismissed away with Aegon down the hall who looks both relieved and amused.

The hospital wing becomes silent once more as the doors close behind the pair. Haelena waits until the footsteps are out of sound and the boys are out of sight completely until she stands. Brushing a few strands of hair away from Luke's face.

"You are quite pretty," he looked like Rhayenra to her in a way that Jace hadnt. The way he spoke maybe, youthful sass and determination. Whilst Jacerys always carried her leader ship qualities, Luke held more of her fire. Less bravery and more so reckless ness.

Not to mention his flushed, cute little cheeks that she pinched mindlessly. Watching a tinge of pink spread across his face and nose when she hears a creak. Something others would dismiss, its such an old castle anyway, but it was all she needed for confirmation.

"I know you're there, brother." Although thought genuinely, mostly by Aegon, to be a complete dumbass the girl was rather wise. In a way her family didnt really expect. She was a ravenclaw after all, why did her relatives question it so much? All besides this one. "No ones here. You'll have a few minutes-"

Aemond stepped out of the shadows as if he'd been there for a while. Face tight but half startled he was revealed so easily. His and Aegon's timing to dismiss Jace had been rather clear, and Haelena caught on rather quickly. He wondered how many seconds into his younger sister walking into the room eariler, had she realized he was watching? 

"For someone who wants him dead you do spend an awful amount of time checking up on him?" She quips looking up to meet her brothers gaze finally. 

He finally speaks. "I dont-" He sighs through the nose. Voice quieter. Not wanting to admit his error.

She reads no signs of such and gladly calls him out on it. "You lost control of your wand," 

Aemond's lips press into a thin line but he doesnt object at all. The best fiendfyre caster at Durmstrang, and he lost control? How demeaning.

She continues. "Why'd you go after him in the first place-"

"His mouth-" That girl was touching his hair, too. But he doesn't say that. It had added to the fire of singing him again. How perfect and untouched his life had been.

"You taunted him with a dark curse?! Infront of everyone!"

Thats not true. None of the adults were there. None of the ones that mattered, at least. Just useless students clogging up tables and continuing on with their lives as he sat there. Time had changed, everyone had, but he hadnt.

"I just wanted to see how good at dueling he's got." He hasnt moved from his first step. Eyeing the open space at the foot-end of Luke's bed. Guilt racked at his insides and he despised every moment of it. Something Aegon and him use to joke at celebrating, hurting one of those boys, that house, but when he was handed a wine glass after all he tasted was bitter fruit and the means to upchuck it all. "... He's still horrible." 

Had Lucerys had known water was useless, enchanted and not, against Fiendfyre? No. His knowledge remained some what dismal to dark magic. Common sense was irrlevenent there. Only one spell can undo it and it had been a spell he hadnt none.

"He hasnt had to face hardships at this school. In his life to the same degree even, as we have!" Haelena raises her voice just so at the thought and it quickly lowers back down. 

The thought of it twists Aemond's insides differently. That lucky bastard had no hardships. No calpsuses on his finger tips or scars on his perfect flesh, wounds in his soul.

"And you know that … you wanted him to fail." And fail publicly at that. Embarrassment had been the goal. Harassing fear into the small thing, striking some feverant emotion as Lucerys had done so blindly into him. "You wanted to hurt him and make a show out of it."

He didnt need to be told what he wanted. He knew what he wanted, and it didnt need to be mixed up by anyone else. Aemonds thoughts and actions were his and his alone to act upon. Misconstrued opinions be damned. 

Even if she was someone correct.

"I didnt want to kill him," He repeats like prayer. The mantra he's been saying over and over again to any countless person who asked.

"You tried to burn him alive?" Haelena retorts standing and moving away from the bed. Her voice curious now, gentle. "Why?" 

A flesh wound marred enough to be permanent. 'You made your mark on me, I wanted to return the favor.' A physical reminder of Aemond to match. His initial goal amongst returning was of course the eye. It had always been the goal.

Upon meeting his gaze at the Triward Tournament entry ceremony, however, his goal changed. He couldnt bring himself to take out either eye once seeing them. Aemond hadnt known why and decided not to think too deep into it. 

"I wanted to burn him as he burns me." He says finally. "Nothing fatal." 

"But he didnt-" Haelena becomes silent. Sighing through her nose once more. Not understanding, yet seeing more than anyone else had. Lucerys hadnt burned Aemond, not physically. 

Looking back at Luke in the bed she stares. "Just try to make peace with them. Both of them, Lucerys especially. The little one, too but I doubt he'll cause any drama." She says hearing footsteps come back. Distant bickering between Aegon and Jace about probably something dumb and dull. Lovers quarrels, yes. She knew of that too. 

"You dont have to love him. You dont even have to like him," She laughs. "Just stop trying to kill and or maim him." 

No longer pulling for thread with Aemond, a beat passes between them. The eighteen year old neither agreeing nor disagreeing until finally somethings made of as they both stare at him.

Aemond takes a step forward. "He's been trying to move his fingers," He says finally. Seeing those small twitches become ignored over and over again. "Stimulate his blood cells and nerve endings in his wrists and he should be fine." He's seen enough dueling injuries to know better. 

"He'll be awake in no time." It was the last time Aemond dared to visit Lucerys.

☛

The last time Luke remembers waking up doesnt feel that much later. The nurse gives him something that tastes rancid and slides down his throat like slime.

The taste alone has him up at retching. 

"Oh, Heavens!" She scurries back over with a summoned bucket before he can spill his sick on anything important. Sheets and floor remaing clean. "If he keeps throwing this up he won't get any better," She scolds as he's propped up with pillows.

The long haired Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher stands at the foot of the bed. Head tilted, hardly any expression shown. A slight smirk on the edge of his lips though, somewhat satisfied. Like he knew that would wake the youngling up.

"I gather no one likes the taste, Maester. Its more rotten than a hangover," Nose scrunched in slight disgust at the stench of Luke regurgitating his insides but waves it off. "Your mother will be glad you're awake."

Luke blinks enough to let things come into focus. Everything was a bit off. 

"You dont have your contacts in." Daemon says then adds. "Your vision might be blurred for a bit because you smacked your head off the ground-"

Luke goes to say something but wheezes a bit.

"Your breathing, too." Daemon continues. "Got alot of smoke in your lungs so try dont not to do any strenuous activity that requires too much breathing." He hadnt been an athletic boy, on the Quittich team like his brother, so he should be fine. "The burns are mostly all healed up too." Such explains the soreness in his arms and the gauze bandages wrapped up the right one.

One of the healers hand Luke a pair of glasses, gross old things he didnt like to use if he could help it, and managed them onto his face. The world a bit more clear but still dizzy. 

He wanted nothing more than to be out of this damned bed. The room that smells sterile and infected at the same time. He's handed a handful of chewing pills, to get rid of the nausea and metallic taste in his mouth. Chasing those down with a cup of water a short time later when Rhaenyra busts through the door like theyre made of paper.

"LUCE!" She runs to his aid and he winces. That fucken nickname. Only she had been allowed to do it, even Jace or Joffery didnt dare to. "Oh, you're awake just as Daemon said, even more so." She grabs his face gently to inspect.

His brown eyes enlarged from the spectacles, a bit glazed over from vomiting. Hair even more unruly than unsual from the pillows and his skin pale with nausea. 

"Hi mum," He smiles as she resists the urge to tackle him in a huge. Making the mental decision that she never wants to worry this much again. She'll make them pay for the pain they've caused. But right now she wouldnt focus on that. She'd focus on her baby, awake and alive as ever.

"Hi, my little dragon—" 

Theres a snap then a swish. Someone teleported into the hospital wing.

 A servant of the hightowers walking over. A petite female house elf. Seeing Lucerys is alive before staring timidly. "Madame Alicent requests your presence." She says.

Anger bubbles in Rhaenyra's chest. "He just woke up." She seethes.

Luke feels himself becoming sick again.

"His presence is requested by the Hightowers." The servant requests again. More clear this time. More afraid of her masters than then the trio before her, but not entirely.

 Daemon takes a step foreward. The house-elf cowers so he doesnt approach farther. "Does your master know we're both with him?" 

She shakes her head. "Master said only the boy when requesting. When Boy wakes up, master says." Looking to Luke with her large eyes as if to make sure he was infact awake.

"Well," Daemon smirks and looks to Rhaenyra. Steadying her with a single glance of eye contact. "Lets not keep them waiting." 

[blorbobird]

Him

Aemond Targaryen + little things that make me feel like I need to be tranquilized.

[blorbobird]

Lucemond × Int. with the vampire AU

(Do i dare make this a smutty one shot? Time will tell)

[blorbobird]

this. this always

lucemond shippers i have a question: why do you guys think lucerys is that pushover crybaby bottom when this boy clearly takes after rhaenyra "i will be fucked and fucked good and no one will stop me" targaryen

and have we forgotten the shit eating grin he gave aemond at the feast? this boy knows he's under aemond's skin and he enjoys it. he's literally pulling at his uncle's metaphorical pigtails PLEASE

[blorbobird]

LUCEMOND

hotd × harry potter au

lucerys x aemond show down but make it wizard magic

There was a break — a split second of warning — before Lucerys knew he was screwed beyond all comprehension. 

The look Aemond had given him after Luke's horribly timed retort sent him into near-death territory. A flicker of the wand and the roaring, billowing noise that followed that had students screaming and Luke running for the hills.

Honestly, he hadnt thought it'd get this intense this quickly.

"No dark magic in the castle-" One of the professors yelled, Baratheon perhaps, Luke hadnt really being paying attention to anyone else but Aemond trailing behind him.

In Aemond's defense, this certainly wasn't dark magic "inside" the castle anymore. Exactly the same magic they used at the entry demonstration the day prior. Just used a bit more … deliberately.

Fiendfyre. Cast so carelessly, so easily. As if it was nothing of extreme power or importance. A fiery, bulking, flame of a dragon. Soaring right for Luke and Luke alone. 

Burning anything in its path.

"Come on, boy!" Aemond calls from some where above as Luke runs down the grassy green hill. Nearly missing steps and tripping with every other movement. He wasnt coordinated , nor fast , but luckily he hadnt been reached yet. Maybe it was luck or he wasnt giving himself enough credit.

Some part of him knew though that it was Aemond's doing. The immense control he had over such a strong spell, as if he used it often. All to taunt Lucerys with. Or maybe he was killing him slow, painful, and cruelly. It wouldnt be a fast death. Make a show of it — burn him in a speculate. All enemies beware.

"Show me why they call you Lord of the Tides?!" An amused cackle follows and, Luke considers himself somewhat lucky now, because he trips in time as he feels heat burn just behind his back. Rolling down the hill with a yelp. A faster pace begrudgingly helping him. Little cuts and scrapes be damned. Something snaps and nothing hurts so he assumes its his wand. Which sucks, but it isnt his bones so far that he's aware of, so he's grateful.

Lord of the Tides. That useless fucken nickname. Water magic had been his back-fault. It had taken Luke rather long to show signs of any power as a child, to the point where Rhaenyra even considered him a possible Squib at some point, although she'd never admit it. His eleventh birthday on the dot (oh, what a late bloomer he had been) he had made Uncle Lord Velaryons living room flood. Luckily, Uncle Daemon laughed it off and the rest followed.

Knowing painfully well that an Aguamenti error wouldn't help him now. The equivalent of a bucket of water or two to a house on fire.

The hits the bottom of the hill, eyes opening. He wouldn't make it to Ser Harrold's Hut in time. Best to just duck into the lake and hope for the best. 

He just had to stall until then. Try not to be burned alive in the process. He might take that fate over talking to Aemond - but seeing the Fiendfyre's wings spread above him had him considering otherwise.

"Ill take the eye out myself!" He yells as loud as he can. Voice hoarse. Voicing louder in a second attempt. "I will not take a year of this torture!" 

He can hear commotion, he can hear the others, in some place close but also just far enough to not matter. All he can see , all that truly matters, is Aemond fifty feety away. A huge false dragon to scale of horrific proportions. Wings spread vast behind him as if they were his own. The spell bending to his corrupt will. Some part of Lucerys hoped he was as in control of the fyre charm as he seemed to be.

If he lost any control, both be damned. 

"You'll take whatever I give you." His voice is even and hard. Luke scrambles to his feet. Covered in dirt and green. "You need me to what you gave me?" 

An ego problem? A chip on the shoulder? A villain origin story? A need of an attitude adjustment …. For once Luke keeps his mouth shut from saying any of these things.

"Im sorry," He says quietenough that he's not even sure Aemond truly hears him. It strikes him then that maybe, just maybe , he's never apologized for it.

"A bit too late for that," Aemond says as his free hand, the right one not wielding the wand, goes to his head. That eye patch he always has on it and peals it back in a quick, swift movement.

Luke ceases his walking for a second. Movements stilled in maybe fear or something else he can't quite place. 

His eye - where he expects a gaping hole in his skull or some horrific sight - is a jewel. The scar on ethier side bending his ivory flesh into something macabre but beautiful. Even from way down here the sight took the air out of his lungs.

A sapphire eye gleaming in the sunlight, starring down at him with a glare that can only mean one thing. 

'He wants me dead. He wants me in pain and Aemond Targeryn makes damn sure to get what he wants.' 

Emotions rolled through Lucerys like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. Looking and finally seeing what he's done. Who he's done it too. How this all ends. Nerves in his stomach unsettle and twist. ( Or maybe that was just the eggs from breakfast being scrambled from tumbling down a hill so fast? Who could really tell.)

Either way. He felt somewhere crossed between becoming sick and screaming every curse word he's learned so far in his young, stupid life. 

"An eye for an eye? Really. Fine." He says glaring back at the elder Targaryen. "How do you want it done? Like this."

The smile on Aemond's face doesnt help dimiss anything racking through him. "You think its as simple as that?" He beings walking down, dragon behind him, wand at his side. Still unbelievably controlled. "All the years of torture and pain? Of mocking-" He spits the word out. "No, I always pictured you screaming beneath me. So loud everyone can hear and know what I , Aemond Targaryen, have done to you."

Lucerys can hear the ponds some where behind him, feel the sun beating down on his skin, and considers it may be a nice day to die. 

"-You'll walk around with far more shame than a simple mark could suffice, princess." Another term of insult. A way for the almighty Aemond to call Lucerys spoiled, as he did when they were young.

It sparks something. Something deep and petty, in that moment deciding he wont let Aemond humiliate him like this. Death or none. He wouldn't be made a speculate out of without fighting. 

"Listen," Sincere. "I am apologetic towards the eye. Maiming isn't my go to but you were torturing Jace. Im not the best with magic or control and dueling—"

"So resorting to physical violence is your reasoning?"

"... To be fair I think you wouldve grown up a  scary murderous virgin even without the eye trauma."

 It's the half second of shock and hate that flickers over Aemonds features that Lucerys takes advantage of. A half second that he's able to return the favor.

 Wandless magic, the broken twig in his back pocket useless. Noting his surroundings and all the focus he's gathered with Aemond's villain speech, to do what he can. He's not going down without a fight - he wont be scared like he always is. Not to this psychopath at least.

 Creating his own dragon, small in comparison, but made out of the lake water. It surroundings him in tiny tides until it is all that he sees. Surging forward and going towards that fiery beast.

Aemond's taken back and thus so soaked. Covered head to toe as magical elemental beasts collide and his flaming dragon is doused by Lucery's smaller creation. It lets out a roar and the wand tumbles in Aemond's had as he's shoved with the waves. Losing control of his fyre charm and therefore the dragon as well. 

"No!" He yells but its too late. A useless scramble forward to find what he's lost amongst the grass, as the fiendfyre soars above to Lucerys.

The tiny water beast had distinguished some of the flames momentarily. He considers that at least something. One last mark before he dies.

 If anything, however, this action had pissed it off. Growing bigger, larger. Until it meets with the minute lake-beast and swallows it entirely. Creating wide puffs of steam all over the area until both boys are choking on it.

Killing Luke's creation as it aims for him, uncontrolled and deadly, its jaws open and flame-teeth barred. Lucerys accepts his fate with eyes wide open. Fear striking through him then peace. There are worse ways to die.

He hears someone scream his name but its lost among the roar. A ringing silence with his fate accepted.

Then someone elses voice mingles through and the beast is gone. Not even realizing he's closed his eyes at all until he opens them. Heat lingers on his face and smoke fumes through his lungs. Charred grass surrounding everywhere he stands and possible hair burned off from his arms. A lack of eyebrows also wouldn't be a shock — but that wasnt the concern right now. 

Something is burning, maybe his flesh. Maybe someone elses. It all clogs his vision and he coughs thickly. Unable to get any air in as his vision follows and he feels his legs give out. Falling back till he hits his head against the burned earth. Everything is sore … is he really even alive?

Aemond's face appears above his. Panicked and dripping onto him, hair sticking to the sides of his face and eye alarmed. Taking in Lucerys easing-into-unconciousness state of mind. Black dots blur and not many thoughts pass him but one clear one:

'I cant be dead. Aemonds here. Either that : or Im in hell'

The Targaryen's mouth moves but no words come out. Ears ring in an uncomfortable form of silence. Headmistress Rhaenys comes into view soon enough and Lucerys blacks out.

Oddly, wishing he was dead.

[blorbobird]

(lucemond aesthetic)

(90s star crossed lovers au) inspired by halsey. f!Lucerys × Aemond

this ship has become my entire personality and im okay with that

[blorbobird]

Goblet of Fire & Blood

Lucemond (Harry Potter AU) Ao3

[blorbobird]

KISSES IN A BROOM CLOSET (pt.2)

status: nsfw

fandom : hotd! harrypotter au!

pairings : jace/aegon & luke/aemond

This was a improper use of the silencing charm.

"Jesus Fucken Christ-" Jacyers swears as he's shoved against a door. Cushioned with a warm, firm chest against his. Chastised moans mingling in the hormone-reaked air.

"You swear to your mortal Gods?" Aegon humors with a cruel quirk of the lips. Rolling his hips into his awaiting palm below. "Your true nature really does show itself, Strong."

His fathers name used as an insult, returning the bitter favor by tugging a fistful of white hair until the opposite male winces.

"Dont act righteous, inbred. Not when your cocks in my hand," Jace warns. Meeting the crazed gaze without an ounce of fear pulsing through him.

Aegon keeps his grin as lilac eyes flicker down to the younger's lips. "The irony of it? Calling me an inbred as you hold your uncle's cock?" Jace bites his tongue at this for just long enough to not get a word in. "Whose self righteous now?"

They had been raised different. Rhaenyra's boys so true and kind and well. Alicents offspring had become vain and corrupt rather quickly. Either way, Targareyn blood ran strong in the mix of them. Fiery and fucked up.

Lips met each other is a fierceness of clashing teeth. Waring with their mouths. Tongue's battling for dominance as hands explore eachothers bodies. Aegon's self righteousness is so thick Jace can practically taste it. He wants to taste more-

"It's your mother then," The crazed voice doesnt stop and Jace sighs. Ceasing his movements on Aegon's cock.

Regretting why he was here as he draws for breath. It all happened so quickly it could hardly be kept up with or fully registered. Quickly beating hearts and nervous touches.

"The whorishness. Im just surprised you havent begged me to fuck you yet-"

Aegon's face is met with a loud slap. The same palm just stroking his cock, an act of violence is made from. However, such a movement provokes the opposite of what the Strong boys intent was. It spurs the elder on in some odd sense.

"Im done." Taking a step to push him off but he's met with resistance. "You twisted sadist —"

Ringed fingers meet his jaw to keep him in place. "Masochist, actually. In this scenario," Pushing their lithe bodies together. No room to breath now. Chests rising and falling as one. As if trying to show physically how well they fit together. "Look at me,"

He doesnt. "I have a girlfriend," Jace sighs. Some what defeated in his voice. A whispered after thought.

A snort. "Ah, yes. That Stark girl." The suname is said like a swear word. "Whats her name? Sansa?"

"Sara." Jace says finally meeting his gaze. "Her name is Sara."

Aegon doesnt seem all to pleased at the mention. Like he doesnt want any other name dropped from his lips beyond his own. Jesus Fucking Christ Himself included. "How'd you to meet?" His tone filled with cold humor.

Rathering to not jog memory lane of fucking the Stark male then cheating on him with his sister. Perhaps Jace was a whore but he couldnt confess that to himself, none the less Aegon. "Im not doing this,"

"You're the one who brought her up," Nearly unblinking. Refusing to look anywhere but his eyes as he has finally captured the sight of them. "I saw you two last night at dinner. News traveled fast. So imagine my surprise when you kissed me-"

A scoff. "Dont make this my doing!"

Aegon brings his face down a half inch closer. "Its both our doings. Merlin knows you tasted this good I would've initiated it sooner."

Truth be told the elder Targaryen had thought of it often. Never admitting it to anyone but since a young age he enjoyed his nephews visits. He hadnt known if it was obvious, but he tried to play it off not to be. Aemond loathed them and partially that fault, had been Aegon's own doings, but that's a conversation for another time.

He enjoyed their visits the same way Alicent enjoyed Rhaenyra's. Never admitting but those who knew, knew plenty. Secret admiration that was never made any good of.

He'd make up for it now. All of it. Starting with this, starting with him.

"Im sorry," Aegon says breathlessly. Quiet enough that if Jace wasnt so close he wouldn't be able to hear it.

Jace eyes soften a bit and he hates it. Not what he says, but how he says it. His hardnening features softening as he looks upon Jacerys in near-defeat. It makes his stomach tumble in a way thats not all that settling.

"Kiss me." He whispers and no more time is wasted before lips are upon his. Hungry and eager. Neither knew what this was, perhaps for now just kissing and getting another off until Aegon had to leave, but maybe that was enough.

A gasped moan as Aegons hips grind against Jace's. Using friction to get himself off. He'd cum all over that burgandy sweater of his until it was stained. Something of Jacerys he could mark up as worn in and ruined by his own doing.

Skin — yes. He needed to mark up his skin too. Brand him as his personal whore. Lips cascade from his mouth to his jaw to his throat. Teeth gliding against a pulse until he finds it.

Someone screams distantly but he doesn't care.

"Fuck," Jace groans tilting his head back against the wood of the door to give more access to his neck. The once comfortable sweater now suddenly all too warm. He needs it off. Now.

"Look at this," Moving his teeth off to glide his tongue against his brusing work. Sealing the hickey with a layer of saliva. "Gryffindors golden boy being ruined by such a dark wizard." Aegon attacks his neck again before he can talk his way out of this again. The idea of sending him back to his little girlfriend with welts of another lover.

The previously distant screams multiply by people it finally meets Jace's ears. Causing him to stiffen. Eyes widening alarmed.

To Aegon it is mearly all an annoyance. A meaning of cock blocking that has him pinning Jace ever so much harder against the door. A silent scold of 'Dont you dare think about it'.

"Whats?," He begins and is abruptly cut off.

"Nothing." Aegon grits against his tan skin. "Ignore it," Kissing lower to lay another pretty mark against his collar bone. Tugging the hemline of the collar aside to brand him all over. He better not cover these, all his hard work. Aegon works hard for nothing. This would he such a waste.

Jace almost does. Meeting his hips against Aegon's until a clear (and very distinct) scream brings him out of his fogged-up lust.

"Luke?!-"

The blonde growls. Despising the name suddenly. "He'll be fine," Two seconds away from tearing the damned sweater off him. Release was so close-

"He's screaming!" Jace pushes Aegon off, mostly worried above all else. "What's happening?"

He doesn't have to guess. Aemond, probably. Thats all the psychopath talked about. Before they got here, on the way here, during the ceremony, after waking up. Blah, blah, blah.

Hands go to Jace's zipper. Undoing it whilst he still can. "Help me get me off in five seconds and Ill help you," Wanting to see his cock more than anything. Now their time was being ruined by the little, younger, brat of a boy.

And oh … is his cock splendid.

"But what if he's-"

Aegon, the maniac himself, gets to his knees. "He'll be fine." Sliding his tongue across the leak of precum edging from the slit. The salty flavour has him humming and Jace gasping in shock.

"He can survive one more minute," He says finally before taking the Strong boy's cock into his mouth.