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twstjam · 7 months

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Lost Invitation (Part 2) - Respond, if you please

Sorry, I said half an hour, but blocking people took a bit longer than expected <3 Starting from now I'll be blocking everyone who likes Lost Invitation without reblogging it. If you reblog it onto a sideblog and I've blocked your main, do tell me or you might miss out on updates!!

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Meleanor Draconia, Levan Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (brief), Sebek Zigvolt (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned) Word count: 4.6k (sorry, I got carried away writing the draconia fam lol) Summary: You're committed to helping Riddle Rosehearts and his card soldiers in a war against followers of the Jabberwock looking to usurp the rulers of Red and White. You're also in love with a stranger you met in the woods who wants you to run away with him. Whoever said that love and war weren't so different might've been onto something. In your experience, they're both equally difficult. Nobody ever said that you had to choose between one or the other though. Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prince Malleus Draconia is not lonely.

He hasn't been since before he hatched, his mother had made sure of it. He has faded memories of dozing off to his mother's soft singing, listening to his father's long ramblings, and curling up in the safety of the right-hand general's presence.

After hatching, his mother had doted on him like any prince of the Briar Lands deserved to be. Her and Father had indulged his every whim and desire. The servants bowed and trembled before the wrath of a newly-born dragonling who, though only three feet long, snarled his grievances accompanied by licks of fire and brewing snowstorms. Lilia Vanrouge was the only one to not kneel so easily.

Malleus Draconia was a prince and a hatchling, but Lilia did not treat him as such. Lilia scolded him like he would Mother, a matured dragon, and only complimented or rewarded him when he earned it. Needless to say, he was not favored amongst the little prince's guardians… or so Lilia says as he laments on the times Malleus used to set his hair ablaze. It had enlightened Malleus as to why the general currently wears his hair so short as opposed to the portraits he'd seen, but the prince—as it is the nature of fleeting old memories—cannot vividly recall his caretaker's tales. They also struck him as incredibly odd and he concluded that as an infant he had been a foolish thing (despite his parents' insistence otherwise). After all, Lilia is his most favored caretaker. This favoritism had even led to Malleus seeking Lilia out when he had hidden himself away one day, giving the prince the honor of being the first to meet the general's adopted son.

Silver had been an enigma to him. How could a meek little human infant, a species which his mother mocked frequently for their weakness and stupidity, appeal to a hardened fae general? It was even stranger to him that Mother seemed to completely forget her disdain for humans when she saw the little bundle in Lilia's arms. Though he would never say it aloud, Malleus had felt betrayed when his mother had asked to hold the child and took him from Lilia eagerly.

This little… thing, could not even hold itself up or eat solid food, let alone seek it out itself. It was useless and weak and nothing like the fierce creature Malleus had been when he broke out of his shell. Or at least, that's what Malleus used to think.

Truly, Malleus must not have been as exceptional of an infant as his parents insist. Malleus had spent 20 years crawling, meanwhile Silver mastered walking on two legs in mere months. Instead of cawing and snarling, the child babbled and laughed, elicited smiles from those around him, made warmth swell in Malleus's chest when he called the prince's name for the first time. The boy had still been small, not even 5 years old, and yet he had been able to climb up Malleus's legs and sit on his lap when he had invited him to read with him.

Sebek exhibited similar speed in growth. Malleus had blinked, and suddenly the little halfling had risen from a screeching newt into a strong guard that rivaled his own grandfather. Sebek likes to shadow him, always quick to see to his every need and always eager to win his approval. It's overbearing at some points, but the boy is growing and learning and has come to put his loyalty to use for only matters worthy of it, learning from Lilia and Silver to not merely agree to Malleus's every breath.

The revelation for such a change brought all four of them closer. It's not rare to see the two young knights by the prince's side, the former general watching after them from not far off.

Suffice to say, Malleus Draconia is not lonely. Absolutely not.

As a matter of fact, he quite likes being alone; the peacefulness of isolation, the escape from his demanding responsibilities. He has to return to the castle at some point of course. He has duties to his kingdom, but no matter how brief, he takes the opportunity to have some time for himself. To have some time to indulge his desires instead of being Prince Malleus; to be away from the expectations of his subjects and parents and instead cater to only himself.

He never quite expected to meet someone searching for something similar. At the very least, not at the same place, and you continued to surprise him in ways he could have never imagined.

After all, who could have predicted that a revered dragon prince of the fae would fall in love with a human?

----

Perhaps to any other, days at Wild Rose Castle could be considered dull, either because of the dim lighting and black walls or the castle staff that always hurry by without a whisper of a breath and with bowed heads.

If one were to ask Malleus however, he would say that days at the castle are always hectic. It's a good day when the castle is serenely dark and gloomy, but on others…

"Your DISGRACE of an offspring is a pathetic sprite unworthy of my son! How DARE you even consider a courtship between them?!"

Lightning fills the throne room with a bright purple light. Three aristocrats yelp and scramble to avoid the strikes of lightning coming down from the ceiling. Princess Meleanor's glare is deadly as she lifts and aims her staff to bring down another volley of lightning.

"P-p-please forgive us for our transgressions, your excellency!" the patriarch weeps as his family collapses to the floor in frantic bows. From his throne, Malleus can see the family's young heir trembling with choked sobs. His mother isn't the least bit appeased, her glare hardening and her staff crackling with power.

"ENOUGH! I will not tolerate any more nonsense out your blabbering mouth! You have come into my home, insulted my son, and dirtied my floor!" Meleanor raises her staff with a furious snarl. The magic surrounding it strikes the ceiling and deflects into multiple bolts of lightning throughout the throne room. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DO NOT DARKEN MY DOORSTEP EVER AGAIN!"

The nobles scramble back onto their feet and skitter out with fearful screams. The wails of Malleus's attempted suitor echo through the halls of the castle until the doors slam shut behind them.

Meleanor raises her head proudly, huffing a satisfied plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Beside the sighing Lord Levan, Lilia Vanrouge has his head in his hands.

"What nerve, to ask permission for our Malleus's hand whilst showing such disrespectful behavior!" Meleanor spins around with a flare of her cloak and seats herself on her throne, one leg crossed over the other. "I should have incinerated that child where they stood!"

"I'm quite certain your outburst had spoken the message quite clearly, my lady," Lilia says with no small amount of disapproval.

"I agree with Lilia." Malleus's mother whirls around to face him with a betrayed expression on her face. "It is no fault of theirs that I failed to give my full attention to them. They had every right to call out my rude behavior."

Meleanor scowls and tosses her head again. "If you exhibit overly courteous behavior then those stuck-up aristocrats will become too comfortable to speak ill of you. As a dragon, you must present yourself as one!"

"That courteousness is the only reason the staff does not perish within breathing distance of him," Lilia argues. Meleanor shoots him a glare but he isn't deterred. "The poor boy already has issue forming relationships. Your volcanic temper is not doing him any favors."

"I will deal with those interested in the future king of the Briar Lands and my son however I wish! In case you have forgotten, I am your princess and his mother!"

"He is 178, he is not a hatchling, Meleanor!"

"Regardless of his age I have no intention of allowing him to be mistreated or his heart to be broken."

"At the expense of others?!"

"Yes!"

"Ah, there he goes."

Meleanor straightens up from how she had been bent over to glare at the short general and they both look over at Levan. They follow his gaze and briefly see Malleus's tail slipping out of the throne room.

"Darling!" Meleanor gathers her skirt to dash after her son. As Malleus makes his escape, Lilia groans and slumps over the arm of Levan's throne. His friend pats his back in sympathy.

"You really must do something about that wife of yours," Lilia grumbles. Levan laughs nervously, but there's also fondness in his eyes.

"She is simply doing what she thinks is best for our son."

"It isn't and you know it is!" Lilia huffs, craning his neck to glare up at the lord. The corvid fae smiles sweetly and leans towards him with his elbows resting on the armrest.

"Have I told you how much cuter you look when you're angry?"

Lilia sputters, face turning vibrant red. "Be serious!"

"I am serious," Levan hums as he reaches to tuck some hair behind Lilia's ear. The other general swats his hand away and he laughs at the flustered pout on the smaller fae's face. "I pity those nobles, truly I do, but like you and I, I have a feeling our Meleanor knows that our young prince is keeping a secret. So at the end of the day, there is no harm done, hm?"

Lilia gapes and blinks at Levan in bewilderment.

"He told you?"

Levan smiles secretively, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He must know as much as Lilia does then, and though he is relieved to know that his friend is supportive of Malleus's feelings, he still dreads the inevitable of Meleanor discovering it for herself. Meleanor is both temperamental and viciously protective of her child, especially since his life had been threatened after she laid his egg during the human invasion centuries ago. It's quite easy to imagine her most likely reaction to her son being interested in courting a human.

"He did. He also requested assistance from me." Levan looks up and his eyes brighten. "There it is now."

Levan waves his hand. Lilia's keen ears catch the sound of beating wings and he turns around to see a window opening. A raven flies into the throne room and settles on Levan's offered arm. The bird caws a greeting to Lilia before bowing its head to the lord.

"Welcome back, my friend," Levan coos as he strokes its wing. "What news do you bring from the Rose Queendom?"

Lilia perks up at mention of the Rose Queendom and looks at the bird with interest. The familiar makes a series of clicks and squawks. Lilia isn't the most fluent in corvid speak so he waits for Levan to translate, but when he looks to his friend, the other fae's smile has turned into an ominous frown.

"…It's not good news, I'm guessing."

----

Malleus typically finds comfort in isolation. It brings him the silence he requires to think and focus on both official and personal matters. Unfortunately though, for his current predicament, his most trusted method of comfort only seems to distress him more.

The conflict between the Rose and Lily Queendoms is taking it's toll on you. It's inevitable—He sees it a lot in Father and Lilia, how their gazes would sometimes look haunted by ghosts unseen to him even when doing the most mundane tasks —but that does not mean Malleus has to like it, or that either him or you should simply allow it to wear you down.

Sometimes, when he is speaking with you, you would get a faraway look in your eyes, lost in thought. During those moments the bags beneath your eyes look more prominent, your body thinner, your skin paler. You would apologise for losing track of the conversation and Malleus would excuse it, but within his chest a pit grew deeper and deeper, filling with irrational concern for you.

The desire to hoard and care for those most cherished to him isn't a foreign feeling to Malleus. He recalls that at a young age he would nest with his parents at night and steal Lilia and his father's weapons to stop them from leaving the castle for their duties. Now, he watches over Silver while he sleeps and sits at the water's edge when Sebek practices his swimming.

It is something normal for dragons to want their loved ones happy and safe, but the way he feels it with you is incomparable. He cares for you, (which had initially surprised him, to care for a strange human) there's no doubt about it, but more than anything else he wants to be the one to care for you, to ensure your safety. To take you away and tuck you inside his wings, to gift you all the luxuries you could ever need so that you would no longer be hurt or troubled.

And the strangest thing? He desires the same thing from you as well. For you to care for him, cherish him, want him, love him. For you to take his hand and let him whisk you away to somewhere the two of you could see and speak to each other every day, where you could sit and listen contentedly to him and him to you and help him with his woes like he wishes to help you with yours.

Confiding in Lilia had been what led him to realise his feelings for you. The older fae's recollection of his parents' courtship had been… concerning, but it reassured Malleus that his desires were not unusual and that, most importantly, his beloved caretaker accepted you.

It had taken more courage to approach Lord Levan, but he should have known that his understanding father would support him wholeheartedly. At Malleus's request, his father had sent one of his ravens to the Queendom and Malleus now spends almost every waking moment anxious for its return.

Telling his mother about you is… another matter entirely.

You were right that it wouldn't be wise to bring you into his home. He loves his mother, but like him, she possesses the nature of the dragon. She is caring, excessively so, and… incredibly protective, to say the least.

And to say that Malleus is fearful of her discovering his romantic feelings for you, a human—a race she loathes with her entire being—is an understatement.

You are fearless, perhaps a little foolish, but not saneless. She will chase you off as she has many others. The incident today was only one of many.

Regardless of his mother's ill manners and your reluctance to be with him, Malleus's heart does not stop yearning and yearn he does as he sits alone in his rose garden, innocent red rose in hand, plucking each poor petal after the other as his thoughts whirl around his mind uselessly.

Perhaps he should have been more insistent. Perhaps he should have taken you back anyway. Perhaps—

"Malleus?"

The click of his mother's heels on the garden's stone path grow louder with each approaching step. Meleanor appears beneath the rose arch to the gazebo and Malleus hurriedly brushes off the petals that have gathered on his lap.

"There you are. I have been looking for you, dear." Mother smiles as she walks up the steps of the gazebo, the long train of her skirt dragging behind her. She eyes the rose petals scattered around him. "What are you doing?"

"Ah. I am picking rose petals… for tea." His mother raises an eyebrow at his reluctant tone so he quickly diverts the topic. "Am I needed somewhere, Mother?"

"No, no." Meleanor sweeps up her cloak to that it isn't trampled beneath her when she takes a seat next to him. "I was merely worried." With gentle claws, she cradles Malleus's chin and lifts his gaze to hers. "I did not scare you, did I?"

"No—" Never, he wants to say. Even if she can summon the most destructive storms and move mountains with a snap of her fingers, Malleus can never be afraid of his mother, but the churning feelings in his gut lodges the words in his throat.

Malleus pulls away from her touch, looking away before he can see her frown. "I apologise, Mother. I exhibited behavior unbecoming of a prince in front of our visitors."

Instead of reprimanding him, his mother laughs. She's always so self-assured; with her magic, with her choices. It's one of the many things he admires but also envies about his mother. If only he can reach that point of confidence in his life much sooner.

"My silly little beast. There is nothing to apologise for," his mother coos, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with a careful talon. "You did no harm. After all, you have been so distracted because you already have your eye on someone, don't you?"

Malleus turns towards his mother, wide-eyed, and her eyes glitter with excitement as she grins.

"How did you—" Malleus stops himself. How is he supposed to tread this? "…Did Father tell you?"

Meleanor's smile falls. "No, but I am hurt you chose to tell him before me."

Malleus swallows. He laces his fingers together in an effort to make himself feel less unsteady. "How do you know, then?"

"Come now, you didn't think a mother would not be able to see that her son has fallen in love, did you?" Meleanor giggles behind her claws, eyes bright with eagerness. She leans in towards her son and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, tell me; what are they like? How did you meet? And most importantly: When will I meet them?"

Malleus opens his mouth and pauses. What does he tell her? Every scale on his being is restless, eager at the presented opportunity to talk about you, but certainly, he cannot tell his mother about you. About your humanity. She would, as Lilia frequently describes it, erupt. He did not need that display from earlier in the throne room to know this well.

(He grew up all his life with it after all; His mother losing her head at every slight insult or threat towards him and striking it with bolts of lightning until it runs away screaming.)

Malleus does not fear his mother, let alone resent her, but he does rather often catch himself wondering what it would be like if she were not so hot-headed.

"They are…" Malleus quickly trails off as soon as the attempt begins. He glances at his mother warily. She is giving him her full attention. The support should be encouraging, but the dread within him only increases. "You cannot meet them."

His mother reels back as if he had shocked her with electricity. Her eyes widen and then narrow. Her brows furrow and her lips pull into a displeased pout.

"Whyever not? …Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Embarrassed, perhaps?"

"Far from it."

"Then do you fear that I would scare them off?"

"Yes— Ah, I mean—!" Malleus screws his mouth shut and looks away again. Meleanor chuckles in amusement.

"Silly beast," she tuts. Behind him, Malleus's tail thumps agitatedly and she twines her own around it to soothe him. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, but I assure you that any mate worthy of you will not cower so easily before me."

Malleus wraps his tail around his mother's offered one, but his expression is one of scepticism. "How do you know for certain? Do you truly have so much faith in my choice of a partner?"

"Oh, of course not! You are still just a little beast after all," Meleanor teases with a light pinch to his cheek. "What I mean is that, whoever you choose, we shall know if they are truly the correct mate for you if they remain beside you regardless of any trials."

"Oh… I see…" Malleus lowers his head. He clasps his hands tightly together. He can still remember the phantom feeling of your own hands on them, of you pulling away from him. Of him watching your retreating back after once more rejecting his offer to take you away.

"Darling?" His mother places her hands on his and the memory fades away. "Is something the matter?"

"I… I want you to meet them, truly I do, but…" Your face flashes before his eyes again, with it your shy smile and your voice whispering,

"Someday."

Malleus gathers his resolve and faces his mother. "Not anytime soon, I fear."

His mother pouts again. "Oh, come now—!"

"I don't think they would fear you." There's no way to know for certain until you actually meet her, but it is something he's fairly confident in. "It is that… they are currently occupied and will not be able to make time to come to our lands in the near future."

Meleanor's eyes light up with newfound interest. "Oh? They are not of the Briar Fae?"

Malleus bites his lip anxiously. "Er, no. They are—"

A bird sings overhead. The two dragons on the gazebo lift their heads and see a silver-haired knight walk through the rose arch.

"Lady Meleanor, Lord Malleus." Silver dips into a quick bow and rises again. "I apologise for interrupting."

"Oh, Silver! What a pleasant surprise. Have you finished your training today? Come, come. It has been too long since we last spoke." Meleanor beckons to the young knight to sit next to her.

"Er, if I recall correctly, we spoke just this morning—!"

Meleanor doesn't let him hesitate for long. She crooks her finger and wisps of purple magic tug on his uniform until he's standing on the gazebo.

"I apologise profusely, my lady," Silver stammers as her magic fades off of his clothes. "But I'm afraid I cannot stay long, my father requests to see Lord Malleus—"

"Does he!" Meleanor's eyebrows are arched, her expression devious in a way both boys know does not hold good intentions for their respective fathers. "How fortunate, I was hoping to speak to him about Malleus."

"Mother—"

"Lady Meleanor—"

Before either boy could get a word in, magic begins to swirl around the princess's fingers and she chants, "Come, my eyes and ears, my wings and feet."

Magic swirls and shimmers around her. Beneath her feet, her shadow ripples, and a raven bursts out of it with a frantic caw.

"Now why are you in such a hurry?" Meleanor tuts, easily catching the bird out of the air before it could fly off. The bird squawks and flaps its one wing that hadn't managed to be caught in her hand. She directs a firm gaze on it and it freezes, letting a pathetic noise out of its beak. Malleus winces in sympathy.

"Where is my Right?" Meleanor looks down at her shadow, displeased, but quickly smiles again when she turns to Silver. "Give me a hand, dear."

With them pointing downwards, Meleanor pinches together the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. She makes a pulling motion and a squealing bat emerges out of Silver's shadow. It manages to escape the princess's grasp on it but only briefly before she catches it by its legs.

The bat squeaks and screams, no doubt profanities blasphemous when directed at the crown princess, but she is unfazed. Silver looks down at the poor creature apologetically as it clings to his uniform in an attempt to shake off the dragoness's claws.

"What is the matter with you? Stop behaving so childishly. Look, your son is being much more mature than you, how embarrassing." Meleanor forces the bat to let go of the boy and holds it upside down, continuing to be unfazed as it claws at her lace gloves angrily. "You should know better than to ignore a summons from your mistress."

She shakes the bat in a not-so-gentle manner and the animal grows in size and changes shape until Lilia is hanging by the ankles. The raven does the same, but Meleanor lets Levan go so he can perch on her arm more comfortably.

"—the matter with you! You absolutely insane princess!" Lilia yells once he's finally taken his two-legged form again.

"Yes, you're very adorable, dear," Meleanor says dismissively with a pinch to his nose. Lilia hisses at her, but despite his complaints there's no real heat to them and he calms down quickly. "Now, my loves, when were the two of you going to tell me that a secret someone has caught our Malleus's interest?"

"I sincerely apologise, darling," Levan says mournfully, and any amount of aggression in his wife's expression fades away when he pecks a kiss on her cheek. "but it was not our secret to tell."

"Alright, I suppose I can forgive that. I'm sorry, dears." Meleanor looks at her son and husband fondly but scowls when she turns to Lilia. "Not you."

Lilia sticks his tongue out at her without remorse. With difficulty, he twists around to address Silver. "You've found Malleus! Well done, my boy."

"Thank… you, Father."

"What is it that you wished to speak to me about?" Malleus asks, tilting his head in an effort to meet Lilia's eyes. The bat fae exchanges a look with the prince's father and then glances at the princess holding him captive.

"Perhaps we should wait until later—"

"Wonderful, since I wished to speak to both of you about a different matter." Meleanor's expression turns into a deceptively sweet one that immediately has Lilia's face souring. "My loves, would you tell Malleus that you also desperately wish to meet this secret potential mate of his?"

She flutters her eyelashes for good measure. Malleus sighs and shakes his head.

"Mother…"

"I know what you said, but perhaps with encouragement from all three of us we can twist a few rules…"

"Actually, my love, what we wish to discuss concerns this… person." Meleanor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband sitting on her arm.

"What?" All eyes turn to Malleus. The prince suddenly rises from his seat, pupils thinned to slits. Leftover rose petals scatter to his feet. "Has something happened to them?"

"I apologise, Malleus, but Lilia is right." Levan casts a quick look towards Meleanor and Malleus understands immediately.

Meleanor looks frustratedly between her son and husband, unhappy at being the only one uninformed. "Now what is this about? Why are you so reluctant to speak of this person within my presence?"

Lilia purses his lips, determined to not say a thing, meanwhile Levan looks towards his son again meaningfully.

Malleus takes a breath.

"It is what I have been meaning to tell you. Mother…" Malleus glances at Silver standing to the side, at attention. "Silver is a human."

Meleanor blinks. She looks at Silver, back at Malleus, and then bursts into laughter.

"But of course he is, silly beast!"

Malleus attempts to continue, but she doesn't stop laughing like it's the most hilarious joke she's heard in a century. He looks to his father helplessly. Levan gives him an encouraging smile but the doubt that twitches the edges of his lips isn't very reassuring. Meanwhile, Lilia sighs exasperatedly and Silver frowns in confusion.

"Well, Mother…" Meleanor keeps laughing and the longer the seconds tick by the more his confidence falters. Perhaps… If he says it now, she won't hear and she can remain in ignorant bliss. "This person I am in love with is a human as well."

The laughter stops so abruptly that the deadly silence sounds as loud as a crash of thunder.

"What."

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleyuu #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x mc

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She's smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn't. (or, alternatively: "No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now.")

pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he's clearly in love with.

author's note: I'm working on 3 fics at the moment, and it's taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er) for starters. I'm a bit more comfortable with sharing this one because I feel like it's actually more of my style (wow, that sounds kinda pretentious). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn't add anything to the story). also, I don't think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don't care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He's been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn't very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond's never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He's used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he's some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that's approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won't be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He's never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He's been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it's a topic he never brings up, it's a humiliating secret that's just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn't withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it'd always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn't get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can't bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it's the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what's going on.

"Aemond," she approaches him, whispering. "What's wrong? Is it the headache again?"

Aemond doesn't want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain."

"I don't think we have time to fuss over me," he declines with a pain-stained voice. "I was under the impression that we're expecting someone to join us today."

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

"Please don't tell me you require motivation," Aegon's voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

"Undoubtedly you've interacted with women before," he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond's suffering. "Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won't run away."

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

"Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself," her voice is tinged with irritation. "Just for one evening. Can you do that?"

Aegon's body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

"As you wish, mother," he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety's bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she's approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It's not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn't seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won't let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she's used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

"Someone is about to get a piece of cake," Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

"Someone needs to shut up," Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn't even tasted yet. Aemond can't help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She's seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

"You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I'm surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience?"

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to Y/N, astonished by his own reaction. It's not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It's just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they're surrounded with.

"I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve," he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can't steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting Y/N lead the conversation. She's easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would've really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That's until she abruptly stops.

"Are you feeling alright?" she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion.

"I apologize if I'm not exactly the best at keeping you company. It's been a long day," he knows he should've come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then Y/N moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It's obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he's the reason their conversation was cut short, but Y/N doesn't make a big deal out of it.

"We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested," she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he'll get any rest as his head feels like it's gripped in an iron vise again.

The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he's almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it's the nausea, he doesn't know nor does he care. He's been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to the King's Landing for a man she's never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there's only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He's passing by Helaena's chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it's not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She's reading to them, and it's a tale they've heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn't need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N's shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

"You are an impatient little thing," Y/N giggles.

"That she is," Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

"Pardon me, I didn't hear you coming in," she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. "Your sister was kind enough to keep me company."

"I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven't left her side ever since," Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

"Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?" Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

"Make sure to be on time for dinner," his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. Y/N mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she's telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, Y/N pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she'll ever be impressed by him.

"This is where you study?" she's admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative "hmm".

"How many of these have you read?"

"Quiet a few," he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

"I wonder what are your preferred subjects."

"History and philosophy," he doesn't mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he's had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady's man.

"Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?" when Y/N glances at him, there's a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she's actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

"I'm afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all," Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

"Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time," she presses the matter further but does so very gently. "Name just a couple."

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don't stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She's never too pushy with her questions, she's making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn't dare to leave Y/N hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

"I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting," she says, almost whispering, when they're seated.

"You did not, no need to fret," Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can't curb the pain that's spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. Y/N is sitting on his right, and Aemond's body can't adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He's so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother's gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it.

He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They're rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That's why, when Aemond opens his eye, he's startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

"I did knock but got no response," she gives him a look that's a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he's unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must've had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks:

"The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago."

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance:

"There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal."

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what's expected of him, it's about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn't want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

"The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other," Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. "It seems like you're getting along quite well?"

"I could think of no better woman than Y/N," Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn't say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn't know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

"Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you'd be happy to know," Alicent gives him a lax smile. "I shall let you go back to sleep," she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he'll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N's chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, Y/N is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can't find her in the library and she isn't in Helaena's chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He's lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

"I've been looking for you," she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they're only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

"We must've passed each other, because I've been looking for you, too," he confesses. Y/N seems very pleased with herself though he isn't sure why.

"I think the weather calls for a walk," she blithely suggests. "Would you like to accompany me?" — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond's looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes Y/N's hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they've done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn't. The feeling of holding someone's hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He's blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can't help but think that Y/N was the reason for that.

"Your mother came to me this morning," she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. "I assume she talked to you, too?"

"She did," Aemond confirms. "Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?"

"Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses," Y/N mimics a man's voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there, too. "Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech".

"He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience," the prince chuckles and she laughs. Aemond holds a pause and then adds:

"Forgive me if I'm being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you."

"It was not," she slows her steps. "I know what's expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I'm being honest...," she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. "I am glad that it's you," Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. "We'll make a pretty good team. Wouldn't you agree?"

Aemond lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at Y/N.

"It seems so," he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There's a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

"But I shall give you a warning," Y/N says with a mischievous grin. "My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won't shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two".

"Can any of them outdrink Aegon?" he jokes, and Y/N bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she's listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it's almost intimidating. But there's a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can't tell if Y/N senses that something is wrong but she's the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they're greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. Y/N lightly squeezes Aemond's hand.

"Tomorrow is a big day then," — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won't be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

"There is still time for you to plan an escape," Aemond jests half-heartedly.

Y/N looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head:

"Only if you're planning one. We are in this together, remember?" her thumb brushes over his. "It's all about teamwork."

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn't want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It's the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn't grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They've tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that's known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother's words — "I thought you'd be happy to know". Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there's more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider Y/N his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep.

He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn't ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn't get a chance to see Y/N throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots Y/N the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It's hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N's hand.

But right when they're standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, Y/N lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That's when it dawns on him that she's well aware of the attention but she doesn't really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it's just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he's not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can't tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he's getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn't remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

"Aemond, you've been dancing," she can't hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

"Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion," Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

"It is, indeed," she doesn't let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

"I can assure you, this isn't a cause for your distress."

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn't see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn't alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on Y/N's face is unreadable. She's oblivious to Aemond's presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he'll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

"... It's not too late to change that, don't you think," Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

"It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser", when Y/N talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

"Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn't of a frivolous kind," he's circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

"I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation," she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at Y/N and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it's not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She's looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

"I can be very persuasive," his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. "I think you should appreciate the attention while I'm this generous and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he's not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she's still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

"I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you're forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it," her voice doesn't lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she's not afraid of anything.

Y/N lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He's frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

"You didn't... You did not just do that," there's a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

"Did what, ser?" her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

"You will not get away with this," he scowls, nettled.

"You're telling me that you're considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe," Y/N seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

"You, insidious wre...!"

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man:

"I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed," Y/N flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

"Shouldn't she watch hers? She's talking to a lord," Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

"And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?"

"It was a... a simple misunderstanding," his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

"And what was the matter in question?" Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

"I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal," the man fakes a smile. "Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly".

"You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time," Aemond looks down on him. "Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?"

"I shall rejoin the celebration then," ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to Y/N. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can't stop himself from asking:

"Did he harm you?"

"He didn't get a chance," she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn't sure how.

"Dare I say we've got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

"I'll escort you to your chambers," the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds: "I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist."

Y/N doesn't move an inch.

"...You are not mad at me?" she's looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

"I'm thinking about cutting his arm off," he says under his breath, but she catches it.

"Aemond, there's no need!" Y/N gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

"I will have to disagree," he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond's hand — finally — clings to her again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble because of me," Y/N confesses.

"And I don't want you to get hurt," his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Y/N's cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

"I think I... I was the one who did some damage," she complains.

"You must imagine my surprise," Aemond drawls, teasing.

"Oh, Gods," a quiet groan leaves her mouth. "That was not very ladylike of me."

Y/N covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

"You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of," he enunciates each word. "He only sets an example of unseemly behavior."

"I'm afraid I wasn't too far off," Y/N remarks, her voice relenting.

"Hmm, you're certainly not to be truffled with," he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

"May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?" Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

"My father taught me that," her tone is surprisingly impish.

"And how did you manage to talk him into it?"

"Talking didn't help much, actually," Y/N grins. "And then I broke my brother's nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm."

"How old were you?"

"Nine," she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can't hold back the laugh.

Y/N joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other's company. But then her smile wilts.

"There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren't very nice back then," she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

"What did they do?"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It's just um," she's looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn't any. "It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean."

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, Y/N spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

"Is it the headache?" her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn't know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that. Y/N is quick to clear up his confusion:

"I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn't ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive," she explains coyly.

"By asking about my health?" he finds his voice again. "I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions."

"We've only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you're allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone," she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who's known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

"Did the ointment help?" she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on Y/N's face tells him otherwise.

"That was your doing?" he can't hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

"I've been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required," she informs him.

"And what kind of witchcraft is it?"

"It is not," she playfully elbows him. "It was something my grandfather taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain," Y/N has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

"After her death, he wouldn't let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret," her smile is bittersweet. "Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again."

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would've done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

"I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first," Y/N reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester's face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

"I shamelessly boosted his ego," she wrinkles her nose. "Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill."

"But I wasn't just that," Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she's been a saving grace for him, but he's somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

"It was way more than that and I...," never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I must admit, you exceeded my expectations," Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

"I am glad to be of service, my prince," she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn't register the moment Y/N came a bit closer, but she isn't shying away from shortening the distance. There's something enamoring about her trusting nature but that's not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would've been disrespectful and naive. He's mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at Y/N, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

"I shall bid you goodnight," her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends.

Lucerys's name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond's routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She's never nosy or clingy; he's the one seeking her company at all times. She's an early riser, too, and they're always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and Y/N can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it's all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she's terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives Y/N enough confidence to pat Vhagar's snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can't help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he's oblivious to how inseparable they've become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister's chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — "You two seem joined at the hip!", it startles him. But that moment doesn't turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

"I will steal her away from time to time," Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

"Bold of you to assume I will let you," he chuckles, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

"I think she’ll have the last word," his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn't think twice before admitting:

"She will never say no."

"My point exactly."

The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He doesn't want to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. Y/N asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that's when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn't want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn't like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven't been on good terms ever since.

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks:

"Must you really go?"

He ponders before answering with a sigh:

"It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect."

"I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you," she frowns.

"It would be a little too late for an apology," Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

"I still think you deserve one," she says like it's the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

"I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me," and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile:

"I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting."

Aemond doesn't know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn't involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that's what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

"Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!" Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

"I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him."

"I didn't say I want to switch places," he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

"Although switching places with you sounds tempting," he sneers.

"And why would you ever want that?" Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

"You've got yourself a pretty wife-to-be," Aegon chants and whistles.

"Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged," Aemond deadpans.

" 'tis won't be necessary," Aegon's quick to object. "Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession," his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles:

"You'll get no argument from me."

Leaving Y/N is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She's standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they're both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that's not what motivates her. Instead, she's an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar's carcass away.

"You had a successful hunt, dear prince," when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

"As usual," Aemond answers indifferently. "Never took you for a hunter."

"I cannot appreciate cruelty," Lannister forces out. "And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear's grip. So I am here merely to control my brother's primal impulses."

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

"Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him," the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint.

"I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother's sympathy toward your..."

"You should not," Aemond cuts him off. "Would be better to address his manners but it's the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves," with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn't there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he's never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would've been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it's already too late as Y/N is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

"...What am I missing exactly?" she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn't care.

"You've been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing," she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

"Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion," her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland's scared tone.

"But what are your accomplishments?" the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. "Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. He, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

Y/N looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

"You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above," Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she's seen enough.

"The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you're clearly lacking," Y/N casts Jason a disdainful glance. "So from where I am standing, it looks like I'm the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn't surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

"I would like it if we left earlier, my prince."

"As you wish," Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone's attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond's ire.

"Give me just a second," he can't help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn't let him make a sound.

"That was the second time your brother couldn't hold his tongue," Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. "If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time."

"Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like..."

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

"I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like."

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

"Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore," Aemond says, sitting next to her.

"I sure hope so," she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

"Y/N, whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture," way more than he cares to admit, "but there's no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me," Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

"I will."

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

"No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now," she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

He runs out of luck so fast, he must've jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. Y/N notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

"Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?" she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When Y/N finds out, she looks devastated.

"It must steep for a few hours, I can't make it right away," her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

"There is another way that I know of," she slowly suggests. "But you will need to lie down."

"Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in," Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

"Close your eye," she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that Y/N leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

"It was probably all the noise that caused this," she presumes.

"Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil," Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

"He is pissed I didn't choose him," she laughs quietly.

"Choose him?" her words peak his interest. "You had a choice in the matter?"

"My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn't like," her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

"May I ask what was your decision process?" Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

"I've heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten," he can't see her smile but he can hear it. "That was impressive enough."

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes:

"That can't be the only thing you've heard."

"I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors," she notes imperturbably.

"I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm..."

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

"I decided I would be the judge of that," Y/N says firmly.

"And what is your verdict?" he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn't think for a second:

"All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn't a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you."

Aemond shouldn't take it to heart but that's precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn't breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. Y/N removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

"What do you see?" he exhales.

"Nothing scary, that's for sure," Y/N's gaze doesn't leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

"Nothing I don't admire," her voice is a little above a whisper.

"Nothing I wouldn't love."

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

Y/N lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it's almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It's her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what's left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it's on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn't want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

"I must admit," she tries to catch her breath, she can't stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, "you exceeded my expectations."

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

"It's all about teamwork, as I've heard," he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they're kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He's lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn't make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

> the title is a quote from Hozier's song

>> I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can't help but mention the extensive research that @ adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept.

>>> I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn't add any music in this fic BUT I've listened to "Mr Sandman" a lot, especially the instrumental version (I didn't mention it earlier in case you don't like listening to music while reading). 💕 my masterlist

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ziipzeepzop-eez · 4 months

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if you still do them, is it okay you do like one shots with ROTTMNT boys and a little sibling reader?

but here’s the thing, the reader is a little pink gecko with yellow spots, they’re around 10 or 9 years old and can run just as fast as sonic the hedgehog and basically have the energy of a golden retriever, they’re like a tiny dragon and it’s adorable yet SO. FREAKING. EXHAUSTING!!

❝ pink bubbles and banana laffy taffy!! ❞

₊˚꒰🥞꒱‧ — 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐠𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

｡˚ 𓂋 🍋﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

❝l ɑׁׅ֮/ꪀׁׅ : okay i had to squeeze this one out because OHMIGOSH it is SO. CUTE!!!! i literally got soso excited when i read this because how did you know i'm legitimately obsessed with geckos?! 😭 i literally downloaded picsart to make that collage and wrote this in the span of a day or two because i got so excited aausghshdh !! fluffybun24, fluffy, darlin'. grips your shoulders and brushes your cheek tenderly. thank you. also, i'm just now realizing you asked for one shots after the fact ajsjjhd I AM SO SORRY I DIDN'T REALIZE UNTIL AFTER RE-READING IT after writing this whole thing out XD DX but foremost, i must tell you that i mostly do my fandom writing in headcanon/reaction formats !! :(( one shot(s) aren't really my forte . . . albeit, i do hope this is just as good !! o7

(honorable mention: @agentturtlecupcake *HARSHLY NUDGES YOU* HEY. HEY LOOK. LOOKLOOKLOOOKLOKKOKLOKOOOKKLLOOOOOOOK. IT'S the, k-KID-🩷💛)

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ oh my goodness me, you are the simultaneous love and light, the bane and exhaustion, of everyone's respective lives.

don't get me wrong, your family absolutely adores you!!

especially since you're :(( the baby :(( aww :(((

it just, kinda freaks everyone thafuq OUT when you zip and zoom and flash everywhere

just. a maniacal streak of pink and yellow.

they don't know peace because of you. (affectionate!)

like they will be mindin' their whole business in its entirety and here you come

"*walks into the main living room* heeeeeyy, anybody seen my jupiter jim issue— [*nyooom!*] SWEET MOTHER OF G O D–"

it's not like you ever have ill intentions, tho 🥹 so it's okay.

"they're cute so it's okay!" — all of your siblings at one point, probably

while they do accept your golden retriever tendencies, it be givin' them gray hairs fr 💀✋

especially because you're so f a s t

you're there one moment then next thing they know you're halfway across the entire lair, tittering and chirping happily away.

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ so, over the course of your life, they've all developed their own designated role when keeping up with you:

raph . . .

being the oldest definitely feels the most responsible for you and acts on it! he himself has developed a sixth sense for when you zoom by and can catch you with (relative) ease every time, and has definitely saved your butt from like. accidentally crashing into a wall or smth sjsjsj

but big bubba can't prevent everything :\ so you have gotten some owies !!

but you can always count on him to be there to help you feel better.

he's your biggest bro 🥹 he always makes you feel better.

but i imagine u're also a maniacal little shit (*cough* thanks leo *COUGH*)

so sometimes you just, str8 up run away from him like ACTIVELY escape his grasp

it deffo takes some effort 😮‍💨 (petition : #saveraphfromhissiblings /lh)

"[NAME]?! Get back here, you little speed monster!!"

*cue toiny baby gecko squealing and The Daily Chase commencement*

oh yeah. it's a daily occurrence.

you stress him out 🤣😭 but it's okay. :))

(after catching you in his hands, holding you up to eye level): "Alright, you little goober. That's enough outta ya today." "But Raaaaph!!"

and then you can't really do anything because raph knows your sweet spot, your little switch, that melts you like putty - a little patch riiiight in the center of your upper back, a well-pressurized scritch is all it takes really, and oh. there we go. down for a nap !

however you simply must have your grand rebellion moments and give him arm gummy bites the entire time but he's the just personification of "😇😌"

ain't no doubting he loves you tho. adores you, really; your bright bubbliness is what makes him smile most days, and even tho your energy is a bit much for him to keep up with, and he'd really like it if you stopped fighting him for afternoon naps sometimes, i don't think he'd change it for the world.

leo . . .

is one who's fairly on par with your hyperactivity, so he's the one we all turn to when your excitement is bubbling over into something a liiiiittle too much :'))

playing tag when you're zooming to and fro is one of you guys' favorites.

but sometimes he doesn't play fair and uses his odachi to teleport >:((

and if you get genuinely upset, he just scoops you up and blows raspberries on your soft lil tummy.

he's the only one who can wear you out so he's an essential part of everyone's lives asksksjd

but bc of this

HE PROBABLY USES YOU AS COLLATERAL TO GET THINGS HE WANTS I'M NOT EVEN PLAYIN

"LEO!!! Ugghhghhh, can you please handle them?!"

"Mmmhmmmmmmm....."

"L E O ಠಗಠ! For the last time, you are NOT choosing for movie night tonight and the kind of pizza!! You've had it all week!!!"

"Ohh, suddenly I have no capability for one very specific baby cotton candy-banana pudding gecko..... Shame. Woeful, horrible, terrible, shame—"

"LEO!!!"

he's a jerk, but he's highkey your idol and he would give the entire world for you in a heartbeat, so :))

donnie . . .

acts like your hyperactivity is an inconvenience...... but in reality, he doesn't mind it.

(only when it compromises his tech. you've only had one to two incidents involving his lab before permanent damage control was done and it's been this way ever since. 😭✋)

sure, sometimes your wild nature can make him cringe on bad days, but what's a sibling if they don't get tired of your antics once every while?

it's healthy development !!

plus. he himself has his moments where his lowkey descent into madness shows its peak, so he can't really talk.

you've all got your quirks, y'know? (/ref)

in truth he accepts it as a part of you, and he loves all of you - i mean c'mon, you're his baby sibling.

and even tho he doesn't openly admit it nearly as much as the rest of your family - he really does think you're adorable.

and in more truth: donnie takes care of you a lot. like- as soon as you started showing signs of your speediness and just-consumed-five-bags-of-candy excitement levels, he completely baby proofed the lair 😭

and you can't tell me he didn't know you'd possess those superhuman levels of speed bro you CAN'T

that man is a scientist and he leaves no stone unturned, especially when it comes to his family.

he has you microchipped too sjjsjdh

[ i just thought of this just now, actually: he and leo are a team when it comes down to your genetics/biological health. donnie researches with his stem-augmented brain and studies your dna down to the very microfiber; leo adapts with his medical affinities to make sure you're the healthiest little gecko mutant kiddo you can be. <3 ]

WE MAY HAVE MADE FUN OF HIM AT THE MOMENT, because how much harm can one baby gecko do Donnie you silly fool honhonhonhon BUT HE'S THE ONLY 👏 ONE 👏 WHO CAME IN CLUTCH.

very much "who's laughing now?"

certainly donnie. my bet's on donnie.

"THEY ALL LAUGHED. THEY CALLED ME A SILLY FOOL. BUT FEAST YOUR EYES, BRETHREN. EATETH THY WORDS!!" "..... Raphie! Bonbon's doin' that crazy scientist shtick again!!" "[NAME]. >:("

on another note, i feel donnie would extend that branch of 'baby-proofing' and relate it to the gift he created for you. [ ref: s1/ep2 — "donnie's gifts" ]

maybe it was something like . . . a malleable sludge, some sort of putty, that melded perfectly over your legs whenever you were starting to get too speedy.

you were initially excited over the cute little metal band anklets gifted to you by your older brother, buuut once it activated .... :((

it made you big sads. :((

being a little speedykins was your most defining trait !! why would donbon try to take that away from you?? :(( donnie :((( donbon why :(((

.... what you don't know, (and me either tbh, we never got that 'explanation' from the inventor himself), is that donnie made it with your specs in mind.

geckos are able to climb vertical surfaces (with some exceptions of course, but for the most part !!) — when activated, those little "putty bands" would've aided in that.

because donnie knows how much you love to run around, especially climbing up the walls, but you can't stick up there forever.

was it made to simultaneously slow your ass down? yes. 🤣😭

(he's only one man what do you want from the poor guy ☠✋ your drive by's were enough to send him into cardiac arrest every time)

...... was it made to adhere to nearly any and every surface texture known to man & mutant kind? for an unprecedented amount of time? with the intentions of you having so much fun with it? also yes.

was it made with intricate care and with, overall, your best interests at heart?

yes.

but after the whole ordeal, he really did mean it when he says you're great just the way you are. :))

in your calmer moments, he likes to have you wrap around his shoulders like a fashion designer scarf and taps at your cute little tail, half as a stim, half as a gesture of affection, while he's in the lab focusing on his latest project

or even just. vibing. y'all are primetime vibey.

he finds your weight comforting. like a tiny weighted pillow.

and he'll never admit that he feels his heart nearly burst with love and pure fondness when you yourself happily curl up into your brother and fall asleep there, cooing softly into his ear.

he built a little comfort bed/pillow extension for you in his battle shell for such occasions <3

but he prefers the sibling cuddles without his shell on.

he trusts you, after all.

(i will never financially recover from this aksjddh SOBBING)

mikey . . .

is exceptionally good at matching all of your moods: your bubbly hyperactivity and bringing you to a calmer, serene state !!

how does he do it. 🧍

he catches you in his arms and strokes/scratches your back to calm you down, and it works like a charm every time !

he never has to use dr. delicate touch on you. despite being the closest in age, surprisingly, you listen to mikey very well !

call it survivor's intuition 🫠 orrrr just the fact that you and mikey are very close and in-tune with one another,

whenever he calls it quits for you - no matter how much you might whine and pout - you genuinely do tone it down.

i know i said this for leo too but i feel like mikey just has that magic touch. yenno?

no pun intended. ha.

but en ee wayz !! yusssss, mikey and [name] are the cutest little goobers.

y'all deffo get roped together being the "babies" of the family,

and despite mikey wanting to outfit that mold — mostly by means of appeasing to raph's overprotective tendencies — he babies you a bit too !!

you like to poke fun. you're observant, clever little thing. you call mikey out on it, going so far as to call him a hypocrite,

and whether you guys have a serious discussion or not is completely up to you !

but for the time being he just pets your head and affectionately tells you to hush, and keeps right on babying you.

he likes being your older brother !! so sue him !!

dynamics change the older you guys get =] so who knows what the future has in store?

you're one of his favorite muses. your color palette never fails to strike inspiration within him 🎨✨

when he catches your pink n' yellow blur in passing, he can come up with an entire idea for murals to tag around, don't play w him

he likes to do body paint on you too !! :))

(completely safe + free of harmful chemicals wbk)

probably makes flowers out of your polka dots (he definitely calls them that) or connects them to make a bigger picture.

he made an entire field of flowers and koi fish pond encompassing your back one time and you absolutely loved it.

you'll always be his little muse 💔

"[Nameeee]!!~ C'mere, polka dot! You wanna see if I can make a constellation this time?" "YAY!!!!" "Wait- waitwaitWAITWAIT SLOW DOWN—" [ *cue wii bowling ball strike sound sequence* ]

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ ahaaa. overall, you're their cute little ball of sunshine. their little sugar carnival. their little pink bubblegum and banana laffy taffy gecko baby! and — while you being.... you, can get just shy of unbearable sometimes, they wouldn't trade you for this world and all the others.

after all, what's a family if you don't accept every part of them? no matter how exhausting it is. <3 you're a handful, but that's why you've got six pairs. and as the years go on, it only grows.

@chachachannah + @sweetparty for the dividers 🩷 @cureqt for the cute emoji combo 💛 & pinterest for the pictures! [the collage is by me!!] 🥰

⟆ ˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ further author notes . . .

™ : as always, susceptible to future editing for grammatical/formatting corrections !!

i absolutely loveddd writing this!! and for the intricacy, this is the quickest i've ever pulled a request-bun fresh from the oven!! :o kudos to you, fluffy! <3 i do hope you like this as much as i did aaaa!! now i've got polka dot gecko sibling brainrot. 🥴 it's true: you never know it's a good idea until it's presented to you !!

a couple of fun facts: "sugar carnival" is a term coined by me, in reference to one of my free verse poems a while back! i, also, consider myself a sugar carnival being at most times ˶ᵔᗜ ᵔ˶ & i came up with the title on the spot after hearing + envisioning "pink gecko with yellow spots". ideal color combo, criminally underrated. fluffy your brain deserves a pedestal and i will personally create it for you with my bare hands.✋🩷💛

╰┈➤ tues. jan 23, 9:18 pm, '24.

#"૮₍ •⤙•˶|✉️ beep! inbox! ˎˊ˗#zeepie beep : fandom! ⭒๋࣭ ⭑🖋˚𔓘｡#⋮ fandom's humble offerings!! ✉⋆ ˚｡#platonic rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader headcanons #rottmnt x sibling reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #x sibling reader #x platonic reader #rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt

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mjbarrosart · 10 months

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My Dragon Prince Boards season 5 part 3

Last but not least:

Episode 508

This episode was a blast! I got the honor to tackle all the plot B on this one, so while the rest of my unit was dealing with the hard emotions of Finnegrin's ship, I was kicking Karim's bottom, hahaha.

My first sequence was with Corvus (another best boy) telling Amaya about Janai's situation.

One of the challenges of this sequence was to show Amaya in one hand scared and worried, but in the other hand keeping her shit together as the "de facto" leader of the human-elf settlement.

Also, I remember having this conversation with the crew about Green as a translator, he needs to stay neutral while he is translating, of course, but he is also Amaya's best friend, and has emotions too, I tried to show some of this things with little details trough the sequence.

The next sequence was Pharos talking to the Generals.

I tried to make Pharos mimic Karim's gestures on this one. Was fun.

Then, Kim'dael and Karim are waiting for Miyana but, surprise!

(Kim'dael is so fun to draw, just had a blast with her!)

Amaya charging full speed wearing Miyana's armor is always so fun to me. Please remember on episode 3 when Janai was telling Callum something like "you are like your aunt, just charging into danger" well, yeah! hahaha)

The last sequence of this episode, was the final part of this exchange.

I love how Karim starts to get more and more desperate and his royal manners just disappear and he is gesticulating like crazy, hahaha.

I made my personal mission to have Amaya punching Karim as much as possible on this episode!

As you can see when I boarded Kim'dael kiss to Janai I made her kiss the other cheek, but my unit director made the right call and made the kiss more visible, haha.

I remember Arcane was recently out when we were working on this episode. And I was obsessed (still am) with all the Caitvi hugs, so I wanted to give Amaya and Janai a good hug too <3

The Pharos rescues Karim (Pay attention to the sequence, we worked really hard to keep Pharos present during all the conflict!)

Aaaand that was my last sequence of season 5.

Hope you enjoyed this little walk trough my work on the show, I would love to do something like this again when seasons 6 and 7 are out!

Thanks for watching the show!

#the dragon prince #the dragon prince season 5 #dragon prince crew #storyboard #mjbarros #Janai #Amaya #Karim #janaya

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fuckaroundandfindouttournament · 8 months

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Hey there, girlies (gender neutral)! Welcome to the ✨fuck around and find out✨ tournament, where we find out who’s the cutest badass! Submissions will be open for a week! (until 09/11 @ 12 EST)

✨The rules:✨

“Cute but can kick your ass” characters of all genders are accepted. Just no one from overly problematic sources. Vtubers and MCYT are not allowed.

One character per submission. You can submit multiple times, but only submit a character once! Please don’t spam.

No limit on characters from the same source.

Please be nice! Propaganda and feedback is allowed, but do not attack myself or others. You will be blocked.

This blog is rated M. Warning for potentially upsetting media. Let me know if you need anything tagged.

This bracket is for fun! Don’t take anything too seriously please. :3

✨Submit Here✨

Inspired by: @autistic-anime-girls-bracket @autisticgirliesbracket @girlygirltournament @pinkhairswagtourney@victimsofyaoipoll @morally-grey-girlbosses @best-kirby-character-tournament @controversial-blorbo-bracket @least-sexy-man-competition @most-datable-datable-bracket @leastdatablebracket @canonmisogynyvictimstournament @bi4bibracket @magical-mascot-smackdown @precureshowdown @precure-alphabet-showdown @mommy-daddy-issues-poll @uquiztournament @personasongshowdown @precuremusictournament @foundfamilyadoptionagency @ultimateanthropoll @ultimate-good-dog @ultimatepinkboy @magical-boy-bracket @guys-with-good-vibes-tournament @multicolorhairswagtournament @siblingtournament @tragicsibsshowdown @actually-insane-blorbo-bracket @favoritepokemontournament @favoritecapcomcharacterbracket @look-how-they-massacred-them (there’s more but i’m blanking lol)

Characters who are already entered:

all the Mew Mews (Tokyo Mew Mew)

all 4 Cures (Hirogaru Sky Precure, Fresh Precure, Mahoutsukai Precure)

Abigail (Stardew Valley)

Aerith Gainsborough, Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII)

Alice Liddel (American McGee’s Alice)

Alphonse & Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Alucard (Castlevania)

Alyssa Hamilton (Clock Tower 3)

Baby Bonnie Hood (Darkstalkers)

Barbie

Bibi the cat (IRL)

the DDLC girlies (Doki Doki Literature Club)

the Elsens (OFF)

Princess Fiona (Shrek)

Fiona Belli & Hewie (Haunting Ground)

Garnet & Spinel (Steven Universe)

Guillermo de la Cruz (What We Do in the Shadows)

Hana Nono/Cure Yell (Hugtto! Precure)

Haruka Haruno/Cure Flora (Go! Princess Precure)

Heather Mason (Silent Hill 3)

Isabelle (Animal Crossing/Super Smash Bros.)

Jeanette Voerman (Vampire: the Masquerade — Bloodlines)

Juliet Starling (Lollipop Chainsaw)

Leon S. Kennedy (Resident Evil 4)

Link (The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker)

Lisa Garland (Silent Hill)

Love Momozono/Cure Peach (Fresh Precure)

Kagome Higurashi (Inuyasha)

Kanji Tatsumi (Persona 4)

Kirby

Kotone Shiomi & Shinjiro Aragaki (Persona 3 Portable)

Madotsuki (Yume Nikki)

Mami Tomoe (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Marina (Splatoon 2)

Mega Lopunny (Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire)

Mimikyu (Pokemon Sun & Moon)

Noelle Holiday (Deltarune)

Opal (Pokemon Sword & Shield)

Panty & Stocking Anarchy (Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt)

Penny (Pokemon Scarlet & Violet)

Princess Peach (Super Mario/Super Smash Bros.)

Pyro (Team Fortress 2)

Rabbit of Caerbannog (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Prince Sidon (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild & Tears of the Kingdom)

Sora & Kairi (Kingdom Hearts)

Spyro the Dragon

Terry Hintz & Buddy (Lisa the Painful)

Top Speed (Magical Girl Raising Project)

Toriel, Asgore and Asriel Dreemur (Undertale)

Usagi Tsukino & Minako Aino (Sailor Moon)

Whitney & Miltank (Pokemon Gold, Silver & Crystal)

Wirt & Greg (Over the Garden Wall)

Zoey, Rochelle & Ellis (Left 4 Dead series)

#blorbo tournament #tournament polls #tumblr polls #polls #update: sorry ny’all i can’t use google forms lmao #flashing gif cw #swearing cw

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darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years

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Imagine Aemond...

Imagine Aemond’s... Humiliation, when his own brother and cousins make fun of him by bringing him a pig with wings and taunt him into riding it, calling it ‘The Pink Dread’.

Imagine Aemond’s... Shock once you put on a cheerful face and jump on the pig, pretending it’s a dragon, and laughing so merrily.

“Lo’ and behold, citizens of King’s Landing, for I, Y/N Targaryen, First of her name, and my trusty dragon, the Pink Dread, shall bathe this place with Fire and Blood!” you looked as if you were having so much fun, and whilst Aemond’s eyes were wide with absolute bewilderment, Luke jumped on the pig as well, joining the fun, while Jace was running by your side and Aegon was cursing and stomping out of there - Once again, you destroyed his attempts at mocking his younger brother. You will pay for it.

Imagine Aemond’s... Pink cheeks once you finish playing with the pig and you let the brown haired Velaryon boys play with it, and you go up to him and cup his face, smiling so sweetly at him, and he can only mutter a soft ‘Thank you’, though he hated how he had to rely so much on you, your strength and outright nerve to go against literally everyone, just to make sure he’s fine.

Imagine Aemond’s... Impatience, every time his mother tells him he will get his dragon, but literally everyone else BUT him has one... Well, you don’t have a dragon either, which sucks because even his sister Helaena has a dragon... And such a beautiful one... Just like her.

Imagine Aemond’s... Sheer fright as he tries to run after you and stop you from going to The Cannibal - Were you out of your mind?! Were you suicidal?! He kept yelling out your name, but as soon as you got in front of the dragon’s snout, you yelled out your orders proud and confident, like a true Targaryen, and with a cheeky grin on your face, you pat and kiss his snout before outright jumping on his back and riding him like a mad girl - Doing tumbles and spins and loops and playing around with the Dracarys-ordered fire... All that Aemond is close to crying and praying to all the Gods in Westeros that you return to him, safe and sound, because you’re his only best friend and he loves you so much and never wants to lose you.

Imagine Aemond’s... Absolute relief, once your dragon finally lands back on the land, and while everyone else around him is still flabbergast that a child was able to tame THE Cannibal himself, Aemond, as soon as you playfully jump on the ground and laugh cheerfully, still drunk with euphoria from how much fun you had -- He runs full speed your way and tackles you to the ground, holding you tightly and crying in your arms, cursing you for worrying him so much and almost leaving him all alone.

Imagine Aemond’s... Jealousy, once The Cannibal snarls at him in sheer envy and protectiveness, and he outright shouts back at the dragon saying you’re HIS lady! ... Only to then falter a bit once the dragon begins to get aggressive, and you have to calm down the both of them by kissing their noses.

Imagine Aemond’s... Torture, once each of his brothers and cousins start making fun of him for being so absolutely useless, unwanted, worthless - And that even some silly girls can get dragons, while he will be forever doomed with a Pink Dread.

Imagine Aemond’s... Rage, when he hears you shrieking out his name, and once he gets to you, he sees you trembling and sobbing while trying desperately to keep your composure - Because Aegon was threatening you by approaching one of Helaena’s super disgusting spider thingies close to your face, and whilst you didn’t want to hurt the poor girl’s creature since they were her only happiness... You were outright terrified and disgusted by them, to the point of almost fainting.

Imagine Aemond... Jumping on Aegon and slapping him, taking the spider from his hand and giving it back to his sister, before immediately going to hold you in his arms and rock you back and forth, trying desperately to sooth you back to sanity.

Imagine Aemond’s... Smugness once you convince him to ride with you on The Cannibal, and you taunt everyone for not having the coolest dragon in the world.

Imagine Aemond’s... Cockiness, once he gets the courage to claim Vhagar, thanks to your own braveness, and despite losing his eye, he will come over to you and propose having a Dance of Dragons up in the air, as you are definitely the perfect pair and not only have you always made the best dancing pair on the ground, but, without a doubt, you will synchronize up there as well.

Imagine Aemond... All grown up, an adult, proud and confident in himself, even with that sapphire eye of his, and no claim to the throne - As he loops his dragon around your own and the two of you share such a majestic and playful dance, that the whole Targaryen lineage would be envious of you.

Imagine Aemond’s... Absolute victory once he goes against the whole fucking King’s Landing and, in front of everyone, after a most wonderful Dance of Dragons, he lands on one knee before you and proposes - Making sure Aegon, Jace and Luke are there to witness and die in anger as their crush accepts marry the ‘Useless, worthless, ugly, one-eyes Aemond’.

Imagine Aemond... Making you the absolutely happiest and most treasured person in the world, because from the very beginning, you were the only one to always be there for him, encourage him and believe in him whole-heartedly.

Imagine Aemond... Just loving you so, so much that he has no idea how to express it in words, so he just smiles at you with that sweet, loving, kitten smile and he holds you tightly to his chest, every night, and tells you new ways of telling you how much he loves you to the moon and back.

----

Imagine Aemond... (Aemond is afraid My Lady will find him ugly) Imagine Aemond... (Aemond is frustrated with the court and My Lady spoils him) Imagine Aemond... (Aemond discovers you pampering Vhagar, the Matchmaker) Imagine Aemond... (My Lady is afraid of the concept of childbirth and pregnancy) Imagine Aemond... (Engaging in a romantic, literal Dance of Dragons in the air ) Imagine Daemon... (Being smitten over an adventurous Lady who flies Balerion)

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

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lilibethwrites · 2 years

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Growing Pains

Aemond Targaryen and Y/N ‘Velaryon’ grew up together. They played and stumbled and fell in the halls and empty chambers of Red Keep, retreated to study tomes under the God’s Tree in the courtyard, and took turns distracting the cooks as their pockets pulled at the seams with the stolen lemon cakes. As Y/N and Aemond’s mothers drifted apart, the young prince and princess grew closer—much closer than either of them thought was possible.

This is a slow-burn, multi-chapter fic that will be (heavily) canon divergent at times. Both Aemond and Y/N are 18+.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 (Finale)

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word count: 2180

A.N: This was in the works for a while, but only as a vague idea. Aemond being a total diva and enamouring everyone pulled it out of the drafts and put it together at lightning speed.

“Mother, please. This is not necessary,” Y/N stood still in front of a polished mirror as her soft protest fell on deaf ears. Behind her, Rhaenyra Targaryen held a brush gilded with delicate, gold dragons, and the soft bristles glided through silky white hair.

Rhaenyra would never admit it to anyone but herself in the safe retreat of her mind that half the tears she had wept the night Y/N was born were because she was blessed with a head full of white hair like a true Targaryen and Velaryon. Rhaenyra was relieved. She was relieved that at least one of her children would be spared the cruel jabs and accusations wherever she went. True, their words couldn’t be called accusations if they had truth to them, and what set Y/N apart from her older brothers was not blood, for they shared the same father, but a bit of luck or perhaps an intervention from the old Gods or the new. But the specifics eluded Rhaenyra, and no one needed to know any further.

Y/N had servants doting her from the moment she took her first breath—and not only because they had to, but because she was, not unlike her mother, a delight to be around—and yet for the ten and eight years she’s been alive, her hair was gently brushed and braided by her mother. Despite the fact that Y/N loved nothing more than to run around and come back to her chambers come afternoon with scrapes and dirt across her face and her hair a dishevelled disaster, Rhaenyra carefully brushed and braided her hair unceasingly, morning after morning.

So, a dismissive—loving, but dismissive nevertheless—hum was all Y/N got out of Rhaenyra.

“Two or one? Perhaps one over, and one under?”

“Only one, please. Leave the rest as is, I’m to take Tessarion out of the pit soon.”

Rhaenyra, in curiosity, cocked her head to the side to catch Y/N’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Meanwhile, her deft fingers dove in and out of strands of white hair, creating a tight, single braid that would soon twirl into a simple bun with a few pins.

“Have I not told you? Apologies. She hasn’t flown in days, and the weather seems well. It would do her good to—”

“Flying alone, are you?”

“No,” Y/N’s voice came out weak. A stronger “no” soon followed. “Vhagar is coming, too.”

“You mean Aemond,” Rhaenyra’s shapely brows furrowed into a disapproving frown.

It didn’t take a Sister of the Faith or the Spymaster of the court to know that Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent weren’t what they once were. A collateral of their bitter falling out was her somewhat sudden disapproval of how much time Y/N had spent with Aemond. “That boy’s nothing but bad influence,” she’d complain over dinner. Daemon would hum in agreement, though the agreement, Y/N knew, did not come from his heart. Y/N always had her suspicion that Daemon and Aemond had mutual respect, and perhaps a slight hint of admiration for one another. Though both were too proud to ever be anything other than reverential to one another whenever they crossed paths. Even so, Daemon saw Y/N with Aemond several times, and reassured Rhaenyra that she only spent time with the servant girls, helping them fold heavy tapestries all day long.

Y/N however, felt differently. Despite her childish cruelty towards Aemond before he’d claimed Vhagar for himself, he was nothing but sweet and kind to her. She was in on cruel pranks played on him, parading around a much smaller Tessarion whilst asking him why did he not have a dragon, and could he perhaps be a bastard himself since his egg hadn’t hatched.

“You know, Tessarion was a goddess in old Valyria. Mother helped me choose a name for my dragon. From the tomes of our Maester. When will you get a dragon? You’re older than me. Besides, everyone else has one. Except for you,” Y/N once pressed Aemond as a child, instigated and encouraged by her brothers and Aemond’s.

“Perhaps never,” Aemond responded quietly, unbeknownst to both himself and Y/N that things would change quite soon.

And change they did. Aemond claimed the biggest dragon in the known realm. He changed, too. He hopped off from his first flight as a man: colder, calmer, more distant and cruel. Yet he always reserved a warmer, softer place in his frozen heart for Y/N.

Aemond never regarded himself handsome, and he was too smart to fool himself with Alicent’s excuses as to why young ladies around Red Keep avoided her. But not Y/N. Never Y/N. She beamed up whenever they sat across from each other at the breakfast tables and dinner feasts. Though their games changed, the time they spent together never lessened. She seemed almost *happy* to see him, but Aemond took great care to remind himself it was a kind, friendly gesture from a well-behaved lady. Though he couldn’t dare say it out loud unless he risked a playful slap to his broad shoulder with a feigned-stern warning that Y/N was not a lady.

“By the Gods! I’m NOT a lady. I’ll wear an armour, like you. Don’t laugh. You will see. I will never get married. I won’t fall in love. It’s absurd. Mother says she said the same thing once, but she ended up fighting in the same battlefield all women do,” Y/N stomped her feet to the pit just last week with Aemond following behind with a lopsided smile.

“And what battlefield is that, my not-a-lady?”

“The birthing bed, of course! It’s absurd. Truly. It’s a horror! I’m never falling in love.”

Aemond only hummed, nodding as Y/N trailed off, nearing the end of another one of her rants about the perils of ladyhood. Though that time, his face fell. There was a stinging ache inside him, as if Ser Criston finally got him in one of their training sessions. Why did it matter if Y/N disavowed love? So what if she was sworn off marriage? Didn’t he do the very same as he stared at the grotesque scar that ran across his face? Besides, if she were to fall in love, it would be with a handsome and flirty Lannister, or a ravishing Velaryon who would whisper promises in her ear that he’d sail her across the whole realm, showing her palaces and gardens from the comfort of her own ship. Y/N grew into an attractive lady, and while Aemond himself grew taller and muscular, he was not fortunate enough to grow another eye in place of the one he lost. Though the trade was far from fair, sometimes a certain thought snuck into his mind, especially when he was with Y/N: he would trade Vhagar back for his eye, and then, perhaps Y/N would see him differently. It was a silly thought, and he chased it off as soon as it came, but by the Gods it was persistent.

“Good morning,” Y/N squinted an eye to stare up at the man with his back to her. She needn’t see his face to know her dragon-riding partner. Not because almost all her waking thoughts were plagued, in one way or the other, with him—it was indecent and quite frankly went against what she’d promised herself—Gods, no! But, well, he was tall and stood a certain way and shifted his weight from one foot to the other a certain way and his hair blew in the tender morning breeze a certain way and that breeze carried a certain scent that Y/N could distinguish from a feast hall full of smells—only because they grew up together. Perhaps Maester was right and reading too many romances was indeed perilous for a fresh mind like hers.

“Morning? Is it not past noon?”

“No. Perhaps you have suffered a blow to your head.”

Aemond smiled first. He always let Y/N win their playful bickering.

A gentle tap on his arm signalled him to follow along, though with his long legs he could’ve easily caught up with no warnings. His arms were folded behind him. Perhaps it was a feeble attempt at ensuring that his hands didn’t defy his mind and reach for Y/N’s, or perhaps, they were just comfortable like that.

“Are you excited?” Y/N broke the silence, stepping closer to Aemond, who always had to arch his back or crane his neck to meet her height. It amused him how petite she was in comparison. It reminded him of the times he carried her behind his back, with her legs locked around his waist and her arms almost suffocating him with how tight she’d clutched his neck from behind.

“What for?”

“The wedding, of course. Gods, you behave as if Aemon is not your brother sometimes!”

“Can you blame me?”

“No…” Y/N trailed off. She found that she couldn’t blame him for much, but perhaps for coming into her mind and filling her ears each time a suitor introduced himself to her, or when the Maester bored her to death with another history lesson.

“Well, are you?”

“No. I suppose not. Frankly, I’m not certain why I even asked,” Y/N chuckled. She could be herself the most and speak with no reservations or designations when she was around Aemond. The idea that he would soon follow after Aegon and marry a woman infuriated her. They could no longer spend as much time together as they could now, and they couldn’t be as close as they were either. The grass-green dragon of jealousy got the better of her. Oh, how she wished he’d let his arms idle by his side as he usually did. She would take his arm and tell him if she absolutely had to marry someone, she’d choose him, and she wouldn’t hate the notion of giving him a baby or two who would look exactly half like him and half like her. And despite telling herself this exact tale almost every day, she never quite gathered enough confidence and courage to do such a thing.

So instead Y/N flew alongside Aemond as usual. He showed off and she admired whenever she thought he didn’t look. High up above the clouds, Y/N thought about never landing down again. She fantasized about taking off with Aemond. She had once read in a tome about how the old Valyrians got married, and the words turned into pictures in her mind as she watched Vhagar glide through a flock of birds. The blood was first drawn from a palm she thought about pressing against hers whenever sleep eluded her. Then, the sharp Dragonglass cut hers, and the flow of their blood united in a mysterious Valyrian magic. Then—then, Aemond pulled Y/N out of her sweet fantasy and back to the clouds they were flying above.

“It’s getting late. Your mother might worry.”

“Or perhaps you’ve had enough of my company? Would you rather be elsewhere?”

The smile faded from Y/N’s face as the silence went on. It was a “yes”, then? Aemond did want to be elsewhere, perhaps with someone else, and she would find out through a silly tease.

“No. But I would rather you were not in trouble on my account.”

The delayed, stoic answer didn’t do much to comfort Y/N. So, that’s what he would come up with as an excuse to cut our time short? Might as well admit that you would rather be anywhere but here, why won’t you, Aemond?

“Actually, yes. We should land. I forgot I have a suitor coming all the way from the Eyrie.” That was a lie, and an immature one at that, but Aemond didn’t need to know.

He looked back over his shoulder. The hiss laced with disappointment and fury was swallowed up by the wind raised by Vhagar’s wings.

Back at the Pit, Aemond was courteous as always, hopping off Vhagar first to hold his hand out to Y/N, helping her off her dragon. Though this time, his hand didn’t reach for her waist to aid her in her small jump, and the lack of his touch through his gloves and her heavy brocade riding coat burned her flesh from the inside out like scorching iron. His face was turned to the side, his hands idle with the saddle on Vhagar as Y/N idled, praying to all the Gods she knew to pry a word of assurance out of Aemond’s mouth. A sweet, warm confirmation that they are still—well, friends. Yet it never came. A quiet, almost distant “Be well, princess,” was all that she got and a sharp piece of Dragonglass cut her open from neck to the heart. Far more painful and deadlier than an open palm, and no matching cut to bind their lives together, either. Perhaps the idea of marrying the very next lord that asked for her hand and getting away from King’s Landing—a place that once held much hope and happiness but now nothing but anguish—once and for all wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd

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steviebears · 2 years

Text

Please

SUMMARY: Eddie pisses you off.

GENRE: smut

WARNINGS: dom!reader, sub!eddie, handjob, overstimulation, unprotected sex, gagging, light bondage

"You really couldn't cover those up, Y/n?" Mike asks, referring to the littering of hickeys across your neck. Dustin's face contorts in disgust. You shrug your shoulders, making eye contact with a smug-looking Eddie.

"I bet she was all like- 'ahh Eddie!'" Lucas teases and mocks making the rest laugh. Eddie only smirks and you roll your eyes, already feeling done with the group of immature boys.

"And I bet dungeons and dragons isn't the only thing he's the master of..." Dustin says, immediately fake gagging after the words left his mouth. You give him a glare and he shuts up.

You were more than displeased with Eddie in this situation. He just let them tease you knowing they were all wrong.

You were silent on the way home, only a mischievous grin across you face, making Eddie nervous. You can feel his glances and cross your legs in a dominant way. He knew exactly what he'd done wrong but wouldn't dare speak a word on it. He just rambled on about god knows what, waiting for a response you never gave him.

The second you made it inside his trailer you slammed the door and pinned him against it. His eyes were wide as you muttered,

"You are such a brat." with a laugh. He just smiled, excited for what he's gotten himself into. His eyes flicker to your lips and you kiss him hard, forcing your tongue into his mouth while pushing him further into the door. You slip your hand under his shirt, feeling up his torso with teasing, feather light touches. Your hand trails down to his bulge that you palm, enjoying how worked up you already have him. You trail kisses down his jaw and neck while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, sliding your hand down his front.

"Which one was that, baby?" You speak in his ear as his dick tries to calm down from yet another orgasm. You continue to stroke him though, making him pant and cave away from your touch.

"Th-three. Fuck!" He whimpers, tears brimming his eyes.

"Please." he chants as you keep abusing his cock. He's all sticky and wet, his length red and worn out. But still, he's desperate to please you. Show you how sorry he is by being good for you.

It doesn't take long for him to cum again. He thrusts up into your hand and his abs tense. He releases for the fourth time all over the puddle on his stomach while he struggles in his restraints.

"And that one?" you ask. He just whines in response. You finally let go of his cock.

"How many was that?" you ask again. he turns his head further into the pillow, completely unable to form words.

"Hm, did I fuck you dumb?" You giggle, pleased with his state. He nods and smiles when you sit on his legs.

"Want me to fuck you now?" you ask with a teasing tone, poking his length. He just grins and nods again. You smile and push your panties to the side, no need to touch yourself because of how wet watching him made you.

As soon as you sink down on him he moans loudly, the overstimulation making him incredibly sensitive. When you start moving, he's too tired to keep curling away from you so he just takes it, his muscles tensing every time you squeeze around him. He lets out another loud moan and you sigh in fake frustration, getting up off of him.

He's worried. Did he do something wrong? You slip off your panties and sink back down on him. As soon as he opens his mouth to make a noise you stuff it full with your panties. He groans through it, loving the faint taste of you on them.

The longer you went the more his mouth hurt from being open so long, amongst other things. His cock could only handle so much so he cums for the final time inside you. You show him no mercy and speed up for your own pleasure, causing him to whine and thrash lightly every time you pressed yourself down on him.

Soon enough you finally came and he makes a sound of relief when you let his length slip out of you. You smile and try to take a picture of him with your eyes; he looked too perfect right now. His whole body glistening in sweat, dried tears on his handsome face, his hair sticking to his forehead, wrists tied up, and of course his pretty mouth gagged. You climbed over him and kissed his forehead while you pulled the panties out. He sighs and tries to catch his breath with a dazed smile.

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson edit #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot

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belphieslavenderscentedpillow · 2 months

Text

Choose your obey me brother to help save you from some evil monster!

Obey me boy character stats. Sorry for not uploading. Thank you so much for the past support ❤️.

Intro

You’re a princess/ prince locked in a tower, oh no! Choose your prince charming to save you! He must conquer many quests and go through many hardships to save you. All of them have special strengths and abilities to help you, but also- weaknesses. Who do you choose?

Basic stats

Powers can go from 1-10. 1 being the weakest to 10 being the strongest. Character Bonuses are very useful!

Speed

Charm

Cleverness

Physical strength

Creativity

Resilience

Agility

Lucifer

Speed: 8

IQ: 9

Charm: 6

Cleverness: 4

Physical strength: 9

Creativity: 3

Resiliance: 10

Agility: 8

Bonus: Hardheaded Demon

You pick Luci? Great choice!

His strength, Resilience and general Physical attributes are amazing, and make defeating monsters like Dragons or other beastly creatures a tease.

Since he’s a smart cookie, he’ll be able to make decisions that require common sense easily, and lead him to the right path!

Buttttt there are a few issues that arise with this demon: you‘ll loose him if it comes to any challenges that require thinking outside of the box

Creativity? Not his strong suite

Neither is his charm (comparatively), which makes convincing villagers for ressources difficult.

Good thing his Bonus is hardheadedness! He‘ll talk to them long enough for them to do anything he asks them to (;

Mammon

Speed: 10

IQ: 1

Charm: 8

Cleverness: 3

Physical strength: 6

Creativity: 10

Resiliance: 6

Agility: 3

Bonus: Relentless idiot

Mammon? He‘ll take this job very seriously.

Sure he might not be the strongest.. physically

Nor will he be the most intelligent..

But he will never give up!

Saving you is the most important thing, and no matter how many times he fails.. he will never give up on you!

Is dumbness is quite lovable! And a bit pitying

Thats why villagers usually help him with the things he might require

He‘s also very creative! Will think of 1000 different solutions (even though it would be easy to solve with some common sense) until he gets the one that‘ll help him!

Sure his idiocy might make him take a little bit longer to find you but he will save you nonetheless.

Leviathan

Speed: 4

IQ: 7

Charm: 2

Cleverness: 5

Physical strength: 3

Creativity: 8

Resilience: 2

Agility: 8

Bonus: passionate fool

Alright so he‘s not the strongest (physically) nor is he the smartest cookie in the bunch or the most charming..

But you know what he is? Passionate!

His passion for you, will make him face any challenge with the utter most confidence!

Sure he might not seem that charismatic to the villagers, but his speech about his love for you blows their mind (it’s very anime protagonist like)

He‘s also very creative and agile, and a combination of that makes the perfect outmanoeuvring of the enemy

And since he has quite the avarage IQ he‘ll be able to make logical decisions 😉

Satan

Speed: 5

IQ: 10

Charm: 7

Cleverness: 8

Physical strength: 5

Resilience: 4

Agility: 7

Creativity: 9

Bonus: recourceful bookworm

You pick Satan? Brilliant!

No seriously, brilliant!

Even though he might be completely average when it comes to physical aspects, his brain preformance is very remarkable

He solves problems not only quickly but also very recoursefully!

This gives him brownie points from the villagers who not only find him incredibly charming, but also love the way he solves all their issues!

He now has a lot of recourses that he (thanks to his bonus) applies incredibly well to his problems, and finds a way to save you!

Asmodeus

Speed: 2

IQ: 5

Charm: 10

Cleverness: 8

Physical strength: 1

Resilience: 3

Creativity: 10

Agility: 5

Bonus: Loveable darling

Hm. Asmodeus is not the brightest bulb, and he’s definitely not the strongest.

His average IQ lets him solve problems in a well, average matter. But he doesn’t require his physical strength to save you, so what does he have?

Well he’s the most sociable person in the whole set!

Very charming and can talk his way into someone or somethings heart 😏

His extra bonus makes him even more likable! It gives him the ability to woo even the toughest monsters (or people)

Beelzebub

Speed: 9

IQ: 5

Charm: 7

Agility: 8

Creativity: 2

Cleverness: 2

Physical strength: 10

Resilience: 10

Bonus: Hangry Warrior

The best in physical combat, hands down.

His physique: intimidating

His strength: godlike

Plus his added bonus that gets activated when hungry: angry rampage that destroys everything

Probably just destroys the tower you’re in instead of climbing it

His intelligence is average and he’s not that clever

But his charm and his strength are enough to win this battle with ease.

Belphegor

Physical strength: 1

Cleverness: 10

Creativity: 9

IQ: 10

Speed: 1

Agility: 1

Charm: 8

Resilience: 5

Bonus: Sly fox

This guy is the most 50/50 character/ player you can find

On the one hand his physical attributes are completely useless. Literally 1s across the board

On the other hand (the right one *wink wink*) he’s the smartest (and most cunning) of the group.

His charm (that comes from no where I swear) makes villagers do his dirty work

And if that doesn’t work he‘ll manipulate his way through

Very smart: outsmarts the dragons, the puzzles and literally everything else

His special skill only improves his already crazy good manipulation skills

Only problem is if he gets caught by a dragon he’s practically toast

Thank you again for all the love on my previous posts! I appreciate all of you so much ❤️

Feel free to request something in my ask box!

I hope you enjoyed this small read, it’s a bit smaller than my usual ones but I hope you liled it nonetheless.

Proofread!

All credits go to @belphieslavenderscentedpillow

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me swd #obey me luci x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me belphie

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madame-fear · 2 years

Text

♡ Dating both Velaryon boys headcanons♡

quick a/n : ok so i wrote this at the speed of light in middle of a 10 min class break, so if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes apologies... and apologies for the length, too. Hope you enjoy it anyways !! 💞 also: i'm already preparing a one shot of this.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader x lucerys velaryon

───────────────────

• The three of you knew each other since childhood, due to your house being particularly close to House Targaryen, and also having been one of the houses who supported the Queen being the rightful heir to the throne.

• You had always remained as extremely close friends during your whole childhood. The boys always protected you at all costs, and they always showered you with love one way or another.

• As they entered adolescence, they noticed that, much to their dismay, both boys had began to take a special liking for you – one that was beyond "childhood friendship".

• They noticed that, whenever you were simply near them (or just talked to/waved 'hello' at them), their cheeks turned into a deep shade of pink, their heart will flutter in a special way, and they will feel as warm as the breath of a dragon at the sight of you.

• This lead to, of course, a slight playful "rivalry" between them. Always trying to get your attention, gifting you things that might be better than the previous gift that one of them gave you (for example: if one of them gifted you flowers, the other one will buy you jewellery. if one of them gifted you jewellery, the other one will buy you a new dress of your fave colour. if one of them bought you a dress, the other one will gift you a dragon egg that is yet to hatch, and so on), one of them dragging the other away from you so he can take his brothers place, them staring at you without you realising, all those type of things.

• They think you're oblivious to their obvious constant childish fighting for your attention, but they're the ones who are oblivious as hell for not realising you know they're trying so badly to impress you, and that you have heart eyes for both boys 😤

• It gets frustrating for the two of them (three of you, actually) to be always "casually" staring at each other/stealing glances with you, and how fervent the way they feel towards you is. So, an easy way to get over this without always suffering to get your attention, is by coming into terms with their own feelings, and to build up their courage to confess to their undying love for you.

• When they confessed to you, they had honestly expected a bad reaction from you. But if you indeed returned their feelings, they expected you to only like one of them – which of course, that would be understandable.

• But when you told them that you liked both of them and gave the two boys a quick peck on their lips they would be... confused???

• If you like both of them, and just gave them a peck on their lips, that means... you want to date the two boys? At the same time????

• Oh well, they'd just go with it as stunned as they are, will send each other a small victorious smile, and now the two of them are your boyfriends.

° Now for the general headcanons! ♡

• In the relationship, while Jace is the more outgoing, confident, and "exuberant" one, in a way: Luke is completely the opposite; literally becoming a blushing mess when your hand accidentally grasps his. He would be the quiet and shy one.

• Literally getting immersed in love by both boys. All the time.

• The three of you try to keep it a secret from everyone as much as you can; but it's quite useless since Rhaenyra, their mother, has already found you kissing the boys at the same time, and cuddling together several times.

• She doesn't mind at all, actually. She'll grant you three as much freedom as you desire.

• The boys occasionally sneak into your chamber, only to tightly cuddle with you. Literally they would lay on each of your sides, and would hug you as tight as you can.

• Despite the two of them are already dating you, they would still have silly childish fights for your attention, or they would do certain things that they know, it'll catch your attention.

• Often going on rides either on Vermax, or on Arrax. They will more than gladly teach you about High Valyrian so you can interact with their dragons.

• Them getting you gifts. All the time. Luke will simply give his gift to you by putting it on top of your bed/nightstand, or by sending someone to give it to you because he is EXTREMELY shy to personally give it to you. With Jace, he just hands it over to you personally, and his gift will come with a big, loving kiss on your cheek.

• After you started dating, Jace would've gotten immediatly comfortable with the idea of kissing, and showing you physical love, such as: always kissing your lips, cheeks, and temple, hand holding, cuddling, etc.

• With Luke, physical contact would've taken some time until he's fully comfy with it because he's a shy lil bean – but of course, he's more than glad to show you his love in different ways.

• ^ and when he does get used to physical ways of showing you his love, he'll be the clingiest one in the relationship. He's probably a bit touch starved for you, and will never lose the opportunity of letting you know how enamoured he is with you.

• Basically: these two boys literally adore you, and they both feel extremely lucky to have you by their side. They'll always make sure you feel safe, loved, and protected with them. And of course, they'll never lose any chance of telling you how much they appreciate you.

#lucerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader x lucerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader x lucerys #jacaerys velaryon headcanons #lucerys velaryon headcanons #jacaeys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd imagine #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x you

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bas-writes · 1 year

Text

In Fruit There Is Truth

Character: Sabo Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit NSFW content, second-hand embarrassment, porn with some plot, Devil Fruit shenanigans, mutual crush, love confession, glove kink, handjob, vaginal fingering & sex, spanking, biting, fingers in mouth, unprotected sex, dirty talk - lots of it (this boy has quite filthy mouth on him hehe) Word Count: 3981 Summary: No one was ready for this edition of Sabo's reckless idiocy. And especially not you, once confronted with the sudden outburst of unrestrained naughty honesty, caused by a very unfortunate meeting with a certain Devil Fruit. A/N: horribly late due to circumstances but better late than never: my entry for @onepiece-blorboexchange written for lovely @secretsnailor <3 wishing you all the best in the new year, hope this little gift was worth the wait :3 your prompts & choice of characters were so.good. that I struggled more choosing something than writing what I in the end chose lmao I wish I had time to write all 4 fics I figured out from them :c

Soldiers of your rank aren’t called directly to the supreme leader…well, usually. ‘Cause the orders you’ve received were definitive and clear: Dragon awaits you in the command headquarters, right now, preferably literally, drop everything and teleport, if you can—or at least spit your lungs out when running. Almost choking on the last piece of breakfast you managed to snatch before the call had ended, you indeed speed through the corridors, bumping into people on your way, lavishing elbow hits and chaotic apologies. You don’t even take time to catch your breath once you make it to the door—you just burst inside as you are, wheezing, hair and clothes messy, bent in half with stitches in both sides.

The view you find has…nothing to do with what you’ve expected.

The supreme leader is red. More: he’s beetroot red and looking so impossibly stupid you don’t recognize him at first. His eyes shoot at you for a split second and immediately wander far over you—something you would expect from a teenage boy in front of his first crush, not from a middle-aged serious man. Reflexively, you glance down, maybe a button or two has opened as you were running… But your ladies are hidden and cozy, there’s nothing inappropriate enough to embarrass anyone yet, a man of Dragon’s caliber. Even more confused, you run your gaze through the room, but besides you two there’s only Sabo, weirdly scrunched in his chair, face suspiciously blank, and twirling thumbs over his lap. In other circumstances your heart would beat faster—as it always does in the presence of this man, the leader of your unit, a good friend and, as for last few months, a raging crush—but now you try to catch his eyes only for any crumb of explanation.

He only stares at the opposite wall, dead inside.

“We have…” Dragon clears his throat, his eyes even more dead. “A delicate problem.”

If you were stressed before, now your anxiety levels have broken through the ceiling and are on a good way to reach the escape velocity.

Your mind is rushing through all you have done as lately, cold sweat running down your spine, even if a moment earlier the fine shirt you wore seemed thick like a woolen sweater. What on earth has happened to earn you a direct scolding from the supreme leader?

“Not you,” Dragon sighs. Your thoughts must have been written all over your face. “That idiot.”

He nods towards Sabo and cringes. You follow the move, your gaze finally meeting Sabo’s, you see his wide-famous cheeky grin blooming despite sheer panic in his eyes, and…

“Your tits look absolutely delicious when you’re heavy breathing like this.” He says, his face growing dead pale.

What the fuck?

Pain and shame in his eyes, Sabo opens mouth again, but Dragon smashes open hand on his lips—whatever was aimed for your ears, has turned into incoherent, muffled babbling.

“I’ll keep this short before he makes it even more awkward,” Dragon says through gritted teeth as he puts all might into not looking at you. “He made a hero out of himself and got right into a Devil Fruit attack. We don’t know what exactly it was, but apparently, he can’t lie anymore, and the more he tries to hide something, the more it spills out of this stupid mouth of his.”

Your lips form into a soundless oh, no words feel suitable for this…bizarre situation.

“It may last a few hours, might go for weeks as well. All we know is that you’re the only person able to make him shut up because, quoting, around you all he can think of is—”

He cuts, face not red anymore but purple, and makes a vague gesture towards your neckline. You clutch hands over it, suddenly feeling very, very naked and lewd, even if all you’re wearing is your casual outfit, now sweaty and messy on top of that.

Sabo mumbles something into Dragon’s palm. Dragon presses his mouth harder.

“Please.” His voice is soaked with desperation. “I beg you. Do something. Not—” He coughs into fist— “literally what he says. I’m sorry he’s making you feel uncomfortable. But he’s going to reveal every.single.operation.plan. if we let him run free. You have my permission to mistreat him however you feel it’s right, just don’t shoot him…to death, you may even tie him—”

Sabo’s eyes flick from panicked to very interested.

“—Please, don’t tie him. Anyway. Just keep him away from anything that could make his brain cells click in a dangerous direction.”

No one, even Dragon himself, would blame you, if you said no. The whole mess is awkward and hysterical beyond your understanding, every trembling nerve of yours screams at you to run and hide—not because of fear, just embarrassment burns you alive. Who could possibly face…all of that, right in front of their boss? Who’d bolt from there even more gladly than you? This is ridiculous!

But there’s also that…curiosity. This little devil whispering your own naughty ideas right into the sphere of your mind willing to listen. Such an unambiguous opportunity doesn’t appear easily, even if the costs already burn you from inside—in a way, so far at least, having nothing to do with desire. No more silly games of cats and mice. No more cautious flirting between missions, sneaky stares and testing touches. No more moral dilemmas, and thorough plans, weighing pros and cons, and learning the subtleties of his language. No more second-guessing: oh, how tempting it is to pull on his tongue before the power—whatever it is—runs out, and Sabo can return to his cheeky, flirty, hard to read self.

You still have a lot of hesitations—but at least you’re sure the object of your longing and fantasies returns your interest enough to rail you once. And who knows what else…

“Yes, sir.” You click your heels.

Dragon is so relieved he’s aged down twenty years just exhaling.

***

Easier said—and thought—than done.

You have been dreaming about this moment, Sabo sprawled on top of your bed is a common image from your fantasies, keeping you awake and heated just right during your sweet private time. But seeing it with your own eyes, additionally sprinkled with a kicked puppy look on his face, has you spiraling into so many directions at once you can just sit on a chair like a good girl, legs clenched close, and so tense you feel you might explode if only you move a little.

Overly confident, reckless, cocky Sabo often drives you insane. But this Sabo, who seems out of place, is even worse.

“Well, if it isn’t awkward,” he sighs, falling back into your pillows and rolling sleeves up. He has already loosened some buttons but hasn’t taken the gloves off. The view, naturally, has your insides churning with need—and your legs clenching even closer.

When the symptoms of weird power didn’t ease through a few hours—horribly embarrassing and filled with Sabo throwing dirty and cheesy thoughts and compliments as casually as if he talked about the weather—you’ve decided to share your room with him until he’s back to his usual self. He’s been banned from leaving, your comrades brought his clothes and utensils, as well as dinner for you two. Luckily, you have a rare luxury of your own bathroom—if you had to walk him to the toilet to keep him away from spilling every tea he ever tasted, you would surely implode.

Being spared of embarrassment—and shock, once you’ve got used to his…dirty antics—has opened a new door, pushing your own thoughts into one and only direction. As if Sabo’s single-tracked perverted brain rubbed on you with its all might. On one hand, you really…don’t mind it. There’s nothing new about wanting him, except his very real presence. There’s nothing new about your interest being reciprocated either, there’s always been chemistry between the two of you, some touches and trial tastes already happened… No promises were made, and no mile steps were done, but you’ve assigned your chances are pretty high.

But on the other—

“Believe me or not—weeell, now you’re kinda forced to believe it anyway—but this is not how I wanted it to go.” Sabo stutters, by sheer luck wording what’s swirling in your mind. “I should have at least started with something…slightly more platonic than drooling over your tits.”

You can’t help some laughter, “At least we have skipped the small talk. I ain’t mad, you know?”

No lies on your side as well. How could you be angry at this kicked ball of awkwardness? That’s, somehow, succeeding in stirring your interest in a quite…heated way?

He whines your name with a roll of eyes, then sits up, leaning towards you over comfortably spread legs. “Heeey, and here I’m doing my best to not come over as an idiot who thinks with his dick.”

“You don’t?”

A crack in his expression tells you words slip past his intent again, “I do. Who wouldn’t around you? One look at your boobs and my thoughts dance only about tearing your shirt open and— Arghhh, do you see where I’m getting with that?”

You nod with understanding. You’ve been seeing the past few last hours.

With a sigh of surrender, Sabo hides face in hands, gloved fingers threading through his fluffy golden locks, “Alright. My mouth is useless now. Hey, can you pass me my jacket?”

“You’re not planning on bolting, right?” You watch him with a suspicious smirk as you throw him his iconic coat.

“Oh, hush your pretty lips, mistress. I got something for ya.”

It takes him three tries to pull the right thing out of a pocket. With a triumphant “ha!” he shows you a frail package, something wrapped in brown paper, teared on the side and awkwardly pulled together with a cord.

“Impossibly expensive gift I’ve stolen from a shop for rich pigs,” he announces proudly—and for the first time today you’re not sure whether he’s having a slip of tongue again or is it his honest and planned take. “C’mon, don’t be shy.”

Under the ugly wrapping there's a surprising gem—fine, light and slick in touch. Delicate leather feels against your skin like fluffy down; you weigh it on the palm of your hand, so gently as it could fall apart at the slightest move. He flexed with his choice, that smug bastard, not only finding something practical, but also elegant, matching your taste in fashion and even suiting your skin tone.

Of course, someone dressing as good as Sabo knows what a good pair of gloves is.

“Even if you stole it—” Words don’t want to come out of you as smoothly as you want. “Sabo, I— I can’t accept it just like that.”

“Naaah, you can.” He snatches them out of your hands, already pulls on your wrist and forces you into a glove. The hold of his nimble yet insanely strong fingers is like an electric shock—every single time and especially now, under the weight of the spiral of horny confessions, proximity and his irresistible charm. Breath hitches in your chest, a flicker barely palpable yet reflected in his eyes, darkening with longing as they glance shamelessly into your cleavage.

Sabo is gentler with the other glove, be it your lack of resistance or the switch of atmosphere. You feel like a diamond adorned with the softest velvet under the ministrations of his fingers. His hands are huge, from so close, in comparison to yours, even bigger than you estimated. He cradles your gloved palms with ease, strong thumbs rubbing soft circles on their backs. You saw what he’s capable of, crushing bones like wafers and tearing stone like paper—but there’s no fear in you, just a sudden, uncontrollable urge to be touched more, carnally, truthfully to his sincere claims.

You’re not sure whether the gloves are that warm—or is it your own body heat skyrocketing under his touch.

“That was supposed to go with dinner or at least coffee.” An awkward blush ghosts on his cheeks, but his voice is already lowering in tone and volume, leaning into sensual whisper faster than your breathing grows. “With a letter and everything. But I’m just a horny idiot, and I want to fuck you as bad as I want to scream how much I love you.”

A loud thudding of your heart almost drowns his words. You’ve started to hold your breath as he was speaking, lack of oxygen growing prominent, but you still don’t dare to inhale. As if a draft of fresh air would destroy the moment. As if he would dissolve if you dared to breathe.

“Please, don’t look at me like this,” he chuckles low, his pupils dilating as he leans to even your height. “You’re looking like a little, confused prey, and it’s awakening things in me I was not aware I have.”

Finally, you take a breath, shaking and lust-infused. “Goddammit, Sabo. You’re the most bold and charming horny bastard I have ever met.”

“I’m a man of many talents.” He grins. “And many desires. The things I wanna—”

“Well—” You quickly cut into another spree of horny confessions. “You love me. Seems I love you too. You said enough to push my imagination where it should go. And gave me pretty gloves. If you can’t stop yourself from adding more…we can as well just put your ideas into good use.”

A gloved hand rests on your chin, gently tilts it up.

“I love the way you do the math.”

***

“Mnhhh, your hands feel so good.”

He’s twitching between your fingers, heavy against your palm. His own hands secure you from behind, a handful of your curves in each, his gloves deliciously rough. Seated in his lap, in nothing but panties and open shirt, you pump him to your desire, not rushing anywhere, just lavishing yourself with his enthusiasm, with the weight of his gaze skimming from one love mark to another.

You’re adorned with them, especially your breasts. He hasn’t left them alone since you abandoned your bra, barely peeling away to get a better look at your flushed face. He smirks, his eyes gleaming at you with lust and cockiness, as if testing how far you’ll push the both of you before you cave and let him take the lead.

“I wanna cum all over them. All over you. I wanna see you whole covered in my cum, your breasts, your face, everywhere.”

The Fruit hasn’t eased its power even for a second. Sabo lets words flow, they spill freely, ridiculous, dirty, moist and heavy with lust. You got used to this forced boldness, but you haven’t heard this timbre ever before, ghosting together with his breath over your sweaty skin. Like in trance, you squeeze him between your hands, your new gloves stained with precum and saliva. Exclusive leather, the highest quality, ruined with a whim of your bodies; he looks and feels excellent, so right, hard and burning-hot. On the verge of bursting under your fingers.

With a low groan, Sabo throws his head back, a rowdy, impish smirk flashes at you as he bucks between your palms, “You look so fucking good. So needy. C’mere.”

He tosses you up so easily, your weight meaningless for his insanely strong hands. Barely giving you time to grab his shoulders for balance he dives between your legs, gloved fingers harsh between your sensitive folds. But discomfort lasts only as much, the skill and sheer power take any unpleasant sensation away, immense pleasure quickly taking over your body and mind. For a split moment you wonder how many he treated before you to be this good, but he doesn’t leave you a second to delve into this thought.

“So wet for me,” he coos, his eyes growing even darked at the lewd, sloshing sounds, his fingers sliding into you with ease. “So fast? How badly do you want it?”

He guides you closer, hungry lips skim along your neck before they settle over your ear, words murmured between wet kisses and nibbles, “You want my cock, don’t you? Do you think you can take it? You’re so tight around my fingers…”

He scissors them, stretches you with stubborn precision, testing every inch of your slick walls for your reactions. Never before did you suspect fingers can feel that good, so strong and meticulous, as if he had control over every single nerve in them individually. You start clawing at his shoulders, delicate leather barely a barrier between him and your nails. The familiar feeling of pressure in your abdomen hurtles you towards the blessed snap, arches your back and hips for more. Sabo smirks against your ear, bites its shell as he curls fingers to reach a spot he’s been looking for.

And gods, if he didn’t have a good guess.

“I wanna hear you more.” He groans as you mewl helplessly, rutting hips against his hands to squeeze more of his fingers. “Tell me. Do you want to ride my cock? Do you want to cum on it?”

You would agree for anything to get more of him. Enthusiastically, you plead and beg, as if the Devil Fruit still keeping him in power started affecting you too.

“Your cries are so sexy,” Sabo rasps, his hand clenching on your hip so hard you whine, not sure yourself if with pain or ecstasy. “Fuck, I want to push you on your knees, make you beg more for it. But you wouldn’t like it, hm, babe? You just want to get fucked, don’t you? You wanna cry on my cock?”

“Fuck, yes!” In desperation you thread through his locks and pull, his sharp hiss vibrating down your spine. “Sabo, please! I want more!”

“Oh, you will get more.”

So fast you barely notice the move he pulls fingers out of you, stable now grasp on your ass guides you to his cock and press down. Sharp inhale squeezes his name in your throat, he pushes deeper and deeper, in merciless chase to please your whims. He’s thick, filling you up so perfectly, as if you were made to take his cock and his cock only. In no time he doesn’t have to put any pressure, you bob on his length with hunger, no care for anything but chasing the need burning your insides.

“My oh my, you whine so loud someone will hear you.” He licks your juices off his glove, then presses a thumb to your lips, your taste still lingering on leather. “I should have choked you with my cock. But fingers will do, won’t they?”

No thought, just immediate response: you open for him before he words his order. His fingers muffle your cries just a little, if only riling you up even more as you eagerly suck and gnaw, your saliva dripping down your chin and his hand.

His eyes become almost black as he watches you with wicked interest, letting you use him to get off—but still being the one in control, your selfishness being nothing but fulfilling his wish. He’s so frustratingly calm, all the last crumbles of prior embarrassment gone and replaced by confident, cocky smirk you know way too well. He knows he has you in his net, wrapped around his pinkie at this moment, the Devil Fruit affecting him only on his behalf.

“Ain’t ya a pretty, desperate, little thing?” Out of sudden, he slaps your ass, the echo louder than your surprised gagging as you bobbed your head forwards, taking his fingers much deeper. “Just look at you, so tight on my cock, so good for me…”

The next ones have you howling in pleasure, your hips immediately picking up a fast and steady rhythm. He reads your limits almost at the first try, soon adjusts, and strikes with such precision you squirm in immense pleasure. His other hand leaves your mouth, lets you sing for him as he reaches for your breast, kneading and pulling to his desire, fingers tracing the marks his lips and teeth left.

“Will you cum for me?” He grazes your nipple with a thumb. “Will you cry my name as you come?”

His hips, rather still until now, buck up, meet your rhythm half-way, force it to stutter and break, leaving you helpless against his whims. You lean against him, your legs giving up with the switch of the mood—but he doesn’t let your head bounce off the edge and die out. The thrusts into you freely, with perfect precision recreating the angle you chose and hurtling you towards you high so fast you lose yourself in sensation, your vision, hearing even, going blank.

“Fuuuck, sucking me in…” Holding you close, Sabo waits for your return, his words filthy, but hands surprisingly gentle, stroking your back in slow, calming moves. ”You wanna milk me for all I have, huh?”

“May—” You manage to choke out before you’re in motion again, suddenly in the air, swirling with his cock still buried in you. The bed whines under the weight of two bodies as he presses you, not so gently, into the mattress, your legs hooked up, the strain in your thighs almost unbearable.

At least, for once, he doesn’t have anything to say.

He gives you only a few seconds before pounding you back into haze. Seconds filled with his intense gaze, eyes full of lustful darkness, wet locks plastered to sweaty forehead, cheeks flushed with exertion and desire. Leather sinks into your skin, he spreads you open—and takes everything, no thoughts, no remorse, just stream of pleasure, tide sucking you in with such power you can’t think anymore.

In chaos of pleasure and sensation you feel his teeth again, clenching desperately on your throat. He groans something, no words, feral growl rather, maybe an attempt to shut what the Devil Fruit tries to drag out of him. If he could, he would tear you, that’s as much as you can be sure as you drown in another orgasm, marked with teeth and jaw as strong as his fingers.

And hell, you would let him.

Sabo chokes out a word—your name? —another desperate, overstimulated high of yours finally dragging him with you. At the last moment he pulls out of you and comes all over your stomach, soon slumping on your, your legs falling helplessly by his sides.

A hot, sweaty and sticky mass—of both of you.

“Did I…hurt you?” He eventually rasps out, concerned, gently tracing an especially nasty bite mark. “Shit, sorry… This must have hurt like bitch…”

You shake your head and show him a thumb up. You’re still unable to talk, but you don’t want him to bother himself with such details. You want to bask in bliss, aftercare and all the consequences can wait.

Sabo rolls on side with a satisfied groan, takes the gloves off and pulls you close, his fingers soon tracing aimless lines on your back.

“It’s…the first time I touch you,” he muses with a little chuckle. “Bare hands, I mean. Wait. I wanna do this again. Without gloves.”

“Have mercy…” The offer sounds tempting, but the mere thought of straining your exhausted body more is already painful. “Can you at least wait until my legs stop shaking?”

“Sure. We can’t get out of here anyway. I don’t think I’ll shut up about how good you felt on my cock.”

He peels your remaining clothes away, leaving the gloves for the end. He inspects them from close, equally proud and perverted grin beaming from his face. “But as soon as I can get out, I’m getting you a new pair of those.”

#op y/n secret santa #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #one piece smut #sabo smut #bas writes #sabo #sinful #female reader

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