#What happened on the Island Sanctuary

[zylphiacrowley]

<previous - next>

[mushroomskykid]

I'm not gonna lie it scared me.

[sezja]

And just like that I'm back on my bullshit*

*thinking too much about Neirin

[riacte]

Hello I was just on a symphonic concert that had music from videogames and they played a track from Sky: Children of Light and I immediately thought about your blog. "Riacte would probably like this"

Omg!! Sky made it!! (Their tracks are all ON POINT, seriously one of the best things from the game and the music keeps getting better)

And awww <3 thanks for taking the time to send this ask! :D

[chronicowboy]

It's late when they get back to Evan's loft, his boyfriend offering him sanctuary in what he's promised to be the most luxurious bed in all of Los Angeles and a strictly innocent no-hands-below-the-waist safe zone—which had been promised after Tommy had yawned for the seventh time (I've been counting, come home with me, let me take care of you). And Tommy's never been a very strong man when it comes to Evan, he'd discovered that pretty quickly, but right then he can't imagine anything better than sinking into his arms for the night, than waking up curled around him the next morning.

Except, as soon as the door closes behind them, Tommy finds himself wanting to make this night last a little longer. The dim lights in the kitchen cast Evan in a beautiful glow, shadows dancing over the angular lines of his face, and Tommy just wants. He watches Evan busy himself at the sink and thinks about the bottled sunshine of him as he'd said that he needed someone to dance with.

Tommy pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens YouTube, finds some playlist of old love songs by the greats like Fitzgerald and Sinatra that he knows will make Evan get all flustered, turn that delicious shade of pink. He lets the ads play out before he turns the sound up and sets his phone down on the kitchen island.

Evan turns around as the beginning notes of The Way You Look Tonight start to play, a cute little frown twisting his eyebrows. Tommy doesn't say a word, just drifts around the island to Evan's side and holds out a hand. Evan only looks down at it, blinking hard.

"We didn't get our dance," Tommy murmurs. When Evan's eyes find him, they're wide and raw and oh-so-blue. Tommy could drown in them. He thinks he might want to.

"Oh," Evan chokes out, tiniest smile dancing across his lips.

Before Tommy can worry about it, Evan is bypassing his offered hand to wrap his arms around his neck. Tommy's hands settle at his waist like instinct despite the fact they've really only done anything like this a few times. And then they start to sway together, gentle, barely even moving really. Just close. Evan rests his head on Tommy's shoulder, and something dangerous and wonderful happens inside Tommy's chest. A feeling he hasn't felt for a long time. And maybe it should scare him, so soon, but how could he ever be scared with Evan humming along softly in his ear, the rumble of it reverberating through Tommy's ribcage too, waking his heart up completely.

"Yes, you're lovely," Tommy croons along with Sinatra. It's a little cheesy, sure, a lot sappy, but it's worth it for the smile he can feel against the sensitive skin of his neck as it crawls over Evan's face. "With your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft." Here, he's helpless to do anything but drop a chaste peck to the apple of Evan's cheek, watching it bloom pink as a cherry blossom beneath his lips.

"There is nothing for me but to love you." Tommy lets Frank sing that one alone.

They're not there yet, but, God, Tommy really thinks he's heading that way. And when Evan picks his face up to rest their foreheads together instead, Tommy thinks maybe he's feeling it too. They just look at each other for a moment, drinking it all in as the song continues in the background. And then Evan is murmuring,

"And that laugh that wrinkles your nose," as he leans up to kiss the tip of Tommy's nose, and Tommy wrinkles it in answer, smiling wide, "it touches my foolish heart."

And, of course, Evan knows this song. A love song as soft and gentle as he is. Tommy kisses him for it. On the mouth this time.

It's not their first kiss. Not their second. It's their third. Certain, sure, but still chaste. Slow and unhurried. Exploring without intent, just to get to know each other. Gentle pressure and the slightest hint of tongue as they linger in it, loathe to separate.

It's as the final note of the song plays that Tommy has to pull away with a jaw-cracking yawn. Evan only huffs a laugh at him.

"Come on, you big lug," he murmurs, swaying back in for one last brush of lips. "Let's get you to bed."

[faeriekit]

Salt Mirror

phic phight fill with two prompts; for @echoghost1 and @fuyuthefoxwriter

(Sister fics are Snow Day, Snowdrift Sanctuary, and Frozen Out)

********

The first thing Danny noticed was the teeth. 

Or. Well. The first thing Frostbite noticed were the teeth. What Danny noticed was that suddenly he was being offered bigger and bigger bones with his meal, which were very much not typical human-appropriate food. 

“You break them,” Frostbite showed him, pinning the bone between two sharp canines and biting down. The bone broke clean in two. Hot-dog style. “Then you are free to eat the marrow inside.”

Danny stared. “I don’t… I don't think my teeth do that.”

“Try it,” his guardian encouraged. 

…Well. He hoped Far Frozen had as good a dentistry practice as they did medicine. Danny shoved the bone between his canine teeth, and clamped down—

—And the bone broke clean through. 

Huh. That was…new. 

Well. Marrow tasted good, anyway, and scooping the butter-soft marrow out with a spoon was easy. Danny might have clunked the wooden spoon against his teeth a couple times (man, was he clumsy today) but he was very happy with the results. 

The next day Frostbite offered him an arm-length rib bone, Danny didn’t even hesitate to chomp down. 

He ate through four ribs before he felt full. He was happy. 

*

The second thing Danny noticed was how pale he got. 

Like. As in ‘his arm matched the snow-white fur of his tundra-proof coat’ level pale. ‘White as a glacier and just as blue’ level pale. Like. There was no red left in his skin. 

He pressed his thumb to his palm. It went yellow, and then flushed back to white as his blood went back in. 

…Spooky. Uh. Danny blinked loudly. Maybe he was…sick…?

There wasn’t a mirror in their cave dwelling, and nothing was shiny enough to reflect in— everything that wasn’t medical was cast iron, or not quite mirror smooth, like Frostbite’s round cooking knives. 

Danny needed a mirror. 

He bundled up and walked through fresh snow drifts to the closest medical facility: an ice cave across from Ledyanoy and Avalanche’s home, carved into one of several dozen pillars of ice embedded into the floating island. Danny knew that there was a mirror there, since Frostbite went in for mirror therapy every time his ice-carved arm began to itch psychosomatically. 

He darted inside. Pritla was the only one in there, so they ignored him in their quest for additional data. Great. All Danny needed was the mirror set up in the corner, ready and waiting to be rolled into place for Frostbite’s next session. 

Danny peeked at his reflection. He looked…wow. 

For one, Danny looked spooky as hell. The blue went all around his eyes, now— no whites to be seen, creating an uneasy, inhuman look. He was pale. He was very pale. He looked like the printer had run out of any colors that might have given him some sort of standing to wander reality with. 

The insides of his lips were blue. The wet inner linings around his eyes were blue. 

…What. 

And. Speaking of…lips…his gums were a deep, sapphire blue, as was his tongue. None of that was as important as his huge freaking fangs, though!

Like! Huge! Not yeti huge, of course, but still!! Danny had no idea how they weren’t sticking straight out of his mouth when he closed it. Big, pearly fangs. 

What the heck was happening to him? 

*

“I think you’re turning into a Yeti,” Tundra decided primly, and flung himself at Arctic without any further thought. The teenage Yeti— still taller than Danny by two heads and a half— squawked, barely seeing the projectile cub in time to dodge appropriately. 

“No,” said Danny. It was more outright denial than certainty. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself. 

Avalanche, who was the closest to adulthood out of all of them, watched the two wrestle balefully. Tundra was barely out of cub age, and Arctic wasn’t much better than Sidney Poindexter when it came to having his crap together, so it was kind of like watching two frogs mud-wrestle in knee-high snow. 

“I mean,” said Avalanche, mostly bored by the spectacle of Arctic getting his butt whipped by what amounted to a kid, “I’m pretty sure it’s normal for human-born ghosts to adapt to their Obsessions after they form. You have to change a little to match your environment. And we have a lot of snow.” 

“So much!” Tundra howled from where he was perched on top of Arctic. His victory lasted as long as it took for Arctic to get his legs underneath himself, push himself to standing, and launch Tundra into a snow drift with a surprised squeal. 

Arctic shook himself off. His fur fluffed up with the effort, which made him look larger in size than usual. “I think that if you were turning into a yeti, Frostbite would have noticed. Or said something. Or done something.”

Avalanche shook her head, gamely ignoring how Tundra had turned from a fallen-in-the-snow position to a crouching-and-ready-to-pounce position. Danny had seen this a million times now; either Arctic would notice (he wouldn’t) and dodge, or he’d once again fall victim to Tundra’s childish enthusiasm. 

Danny and Avalanche largely had no comment on Tundra’s second leap of faith, nor for their mutual struggle for pubescent dominance that ensued. 

There were other questions to ask. 

*

“Am I turning into a yeti?” Phantom asked. 

Frostbite looked down. 

The half-ghost looked nervous— picking at his lip until green beaded under his teeth, his hands in the sleeves of his coat. 

“No,” Frostbite confirmed. He didn’t smile, as it would have seemed condescending in the face of Phantom’s genuine worry. It was better to keep calm. “Why are you worried about turning into a yeti?” 

Phantom stared up at him, eyes deep and luminous. Frostbite had seen similar coloration on deep-sea creatures, long-travelled things desperate for any sort of light. The sight was compelling, yes, but could not substitute for a verbal answer. 

“...Because I’m changing colors and now I have sharp teeth and I think I’m growing claws,” Phantom pointed out. All of these things were true. They were very good, sturdy teeth, and very good, sturdy claws, which was a good sign; anything otherwise would have indicated a lack of support on Frostbite’s end. 

“It is a very normal thing to want to explore other forms of expression at your age,” Frostbite pointed out. He threaded his paws through Phantom’s pale hair, and found, to his pride, little buds of ice horns. “And I am very flattered that you think so highly of us that you are interested in mimicking some of our more obvious traits; that being said, if it distresses you, you are always free to change back.” 

Phantom’s face turned…lost. “Oh.” 

Frostbite continued petting. More explanation would come, or it wouldn’t— but in the meantime, the human tinge returned to his charge’s cheeks, flush with red blood, and the bud horns collapsed where they grew. His charge’s hair turned dark once more, his teeth flat and human. 

Phantom’s eyes were always blue. The human color was not as deep, but was just as nice. Now, there were tears in them. 

“What is wrong, little one?” Frostbite rumbled, concerned. Phantom took his paw and pressed his face to it in search of tactile comfort. 

“I didn’t know why I was changing,” Phantom admitted, sniffing. His voice was wet and raw. “I was scared I couldn’t go back. Humans don’t just…change like that, 'cause we're made of matter. I was scared…”

Frostbite rumbled wordlessly. His charge had adapted very well to a non-human environment, but there were knowledge gaps that would have come naturally to any Realms-Borne being; most intuitively was knowledge of the self, as well as the rigidity (and fluidity) of one’s own manner of expression. 

Changing without realization would be distressing. Frostbite still remembered what it felt like to wake up some mornings and realize that his arm was gone. 

“You are alright,” Frostbite reaffirmed. “It it healthy to change, and it is a good time to find out how you will want to present yourself. That being said, there is no rush.”

Frostbite paused. 

“There is one rush. If you intend to partake in eating marrow with our dinner tonight, you may want to manifest your teeth again—”

Phantom laughed, little cub’s fangs poking out between his teeth. All would be well; but first, there was dinner to be had, and a good night’s sleep to be found.

[asumofwords]

Lighthouse - Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader - Mini Series 4/4

Summary: You work as a lone Lighthouse keeper on a small island just off the coast. Everyday was the same routine, tending to your duties and the lamp with not much time to spare. But what will happen to your routine when a storm rages across the sea, and a handsome man washes ashore?

Warnings: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. Warnings will be added in their relevance. She/Her Pronouns. Pining, kiss, angst, anxiety, fingering, smut, pussy eating like a champ, creampie for days, creampie, longing, dirty talk, love, fluff.

Note: Good lord, this is a long one, and also the final chapter! It's sitting at 12k words, so settle in for a hefty piece because I refused to cut it down or into two. Thank you all so much for your love and support of this mini series, I have had so much bloody fun writing it! I hope you enjoy how I have ended it, and hopefully now I can do some one shots for once in my damned life hahaha. Anyway, enjoy!!! <3

Final Chapter: Inevitable Ends, New Beginnings

The first thing that you noticed as you woke was a soreness between your thighs, a dull ache that throbbed with your heart beat, eyes slowly opening to the early morning light.

The room had a light blue glow to it, the sun only just beginning to rise over the sea and lands behind you, casting your little sanctuary in a cerulean tint. 

The second thing that you noticed when you awoke that morning was that you were alone.

You turned in the sheets, eyes surveying the room in search for the silver head of hair you had grown accustomed to seeing almost every waking moment, but he was nowhere to be found, though there was evidence of his presence being there.

Bar the small marks on your skin, the smell of him in your sheets, and the soreness between your legs, your clothes that had been strewn on the floor were now neatly folded on your chest at the side of the room, and the lack of breeches and tunic told you that Aemond was already up and dressed.

A moment of anxiety crawled through you.

Had he left you?

But then you remembered that he had no way off of your island, unless of course he swam, which you very much doubted he would be desperate enough to escape you to do that. But then there was the reason for his absence that early morning that began to spiral out of control in your mind.

Had he slipped out of bed? Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possible to not stir you from your sleep because he regretted last night, and could not bare to face the shame and embarrassment of seeing you? 

Had your moment of weakness tainted his stature in society? 

Would he beg that you tell none other? 

Not that you knew anyone from where he was from, but still, the inferiority of your birth gnawed at your conscience and creeped through you like the bitter sea winds.

Did he get his fill and was now avoiding you at all costs? 

Was he repulsed in himself for laying with you? 

Did he wish to pretend that it did not happen? 

Was his early departure to find the time and wherewithal in himself to gather strength to not feel ill upon looking at you? 

Sure, men of his breeding were sometimes known to lay between any woman’s legs, but it was usually one of equal standing and not at all someone of your status. And if last nights activities were any reference, there was no doubt within your mind that he had in fact lain with women before, once, twice, more, if his skills were any indicator. But perhaps they had been Ladies of his court back home, women of good breeding in high society, and for him to have been with you, well that would be akin to rolling in the mud.

You pulled yourself from bed and dressed yourself nervously, shaking your runaway thoughts, fingers stumbling over your buttons, pulling hastily at the laces of your boots, all too tight for your feet to be comfortable.

When you walked into the living space, you found that the glasses and whiskey had also been put away, no longer on the table where they had been left that evening, and atop the coal stove sat your kettle, steam rising from its nozzle. 

Beside the door, your large coat was hung on its hook, and the hook beside it, which had recently held your fathers old coat, given to Aemond to keep him warm on the breezy island, was now bare. At the absence of the coat, you knew that Aemond was to be outside, and decided to go out in search of him. 

Perhaps he left early to see what he could salvage of your boat, desperate to rebuild it himself and risk another encounter with the waves in an effort to get away from you. Or perhaps he had-

You walked to the lighthouse, the only place he could possibly be besides the beach that was empty with few planks of wood and what remained of his ship that hadn’t been re-swept out to sea.

Dew covered your boots, kicked up from the soft strands of grass with every step you took. The air was cold, and as you breathed, a cloud of your breath puffed in front of you, white and soft that dissipated before your eyes just as quick as it came. 

The large door to the lighthouse creaked open, and then clunked shut behind you, echoing up the spirals of stairs, no doubt alerting him to your presence. You slowly began to make your way up the never ending steps, the only time in your life in which you had dreaded it and found each one to be harder than the last.

Would he run?

Would he scorn you for seducing him? Bewitching him? Tempting him?

Or would he let you down gently? Telling you the dispiriting truth that you both knew; That he was a Lord and you were not of good breeding, and he would have to go and be wed to his advantageous bride that awaited him back home, and that laying with someone like you was a grievous mistake indeed.  

Your heart beat in your chest rapidly, gut churning as you picked at the skin at your nails nervously. 

When you got to the top of the lighthouse's small landing where the lamp was held, you spun in search of him, spotting the figure of the sailor, bent over the small desk in the corner, quill in hand. 

His long hair was pulled back in a loose braid, tied together with a piece of ribbon from one of the bags of food William had delivered to you. You watched as his hand moved swiftly across the page of your log book, pointer and thumb delicately holding the quill as ink pressed into the parchment with a neatness and precision that could have only be attained from proper schooling.

Hearing your approach, Aemond lifted his head to face you. Stray strands of silver hair hung in front of his face, swiftly tucked behind one of his pale ears as he gazed at you.

A small smile pulled at his lips, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

All anxiety, all worries, any trepidations about his reaction after your coupling from the evening before were swept out the window when he stood straighter, smile pulling wider at his lips.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” He placed the quill in its holder, leaning down to the book to blow at the ink gently before he took a step toward you, “You needed the rest.”

Be still my beating heart.

You smiled at him shyly, watching as he came closer towards you, hand twitching at his side as though it longed to reach forth and close the gap between you.

But it didn’t.

“You should have woke me.” Your hands clutched each other tightly in front of your skirts, embarrassment licking at your neck. How could you have ever doubted him?

Aemond shook his head at you, “No need. You have already taught me what needed to be done.” He turned to face the table again, picking up the log book to hand to you, “I’ve logged the weather for the morning. Checked the lamp and oil reserves. All is well.” 

You took the book from him, watching as his finger reached to graze yours gently, sparks flying up your arm. His writing was neat, swift and soft loops pulling in a slant as he correctly and proficiently logged the winds, skies, seas and temperature. There was not a thing missing, and he had even written note of his predictions of the weather for the rest of the day.

He stepped closer towards you, heat radiating off of him, “Besides, it’s only fair since I spent the night teaching you something new.”

Heat rushed to your face, hands clutching the logbook tightly as you looked away nervously, hearing his soft chuckle before his head dipped, hands coming to grasp the log book from your own, fingers purposefully covering yours, “Do you want to double check my work?” He asked softly.

You shook your head underneath him, stepping back, letting him take the log book from you to place back on the table, “No, I trust you.”

At your words, a softer smile pulled at his lips, before he held his hand out in the direction of the stairs, “Shall we? You’ve not eaten yet.”

“How did you-“

“-You would have seen I was gone and come straight for me. You’re a naturally curious person, and no doubt had a myriad of questions or things to say. I wondered if you would have felt some sort of fear to wake up alone after what we did last night.”

Heat rose in your cheeks again, and you cursed yourself mentally for ever doubting him, for ever doubting yourself, “I thought perhaps you would have made a mistake. You are a Lord, and I-“

“-You are far more than what you believe. I have not met anyone quite like you. Your birth and rank mean nothing to me.” Aemond’s hand reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, warmth spreading through you at his words.

You couldn’t look at him, casting your gaze down to your hands as your eyes prickled with tears. How could he be so kind to you? How could he be so understanding? So calming? 

As your thoughts began to race away from you again, Aemond uttered your name, causing your gaze to raise to his.

“Stay with me. Do not let your mind run away from you.” His seeing eye flicked back and forth across your face, the other unmoving, “Come. Let's eat.”

-

Aemond had walked with you by your side back to your cottage, and together you ate your breakfast, talking quietly to one another, through the initial shyness that swallowed you, about anything and everything you could to avoid talking about the evening before and what it meant for you, and despite his obvious desire to discuss it, he did not push the conversation and allowed the pace to suit your needs.

And that was how your days passed, not quite dismissing what had happened, nor acknowledging it outright like before, but knowing that it had changed the space between the two of you. The dynamic had changed once again, the way you began to dote on each other changed, or more so, him doting on you more romantically.

For every morning that passed, you would wake to an empty bed to find him in the lighthouse before the sun would rise, logging the weather and checking upon the lamp. Even times where he would stir you from your sleep in the middle of the night as he left to keep an eye on it, or telling you to take rest and go to bed if you had been with the lamp in the late hours.

What was more, was that Aemond no longer slept upon the small couch, and nor did you, the both of you comfortably sharing your bed together in the cold of the night. At first you had been nervous, but Aemond had behaved as though the two of you had slept in a bed together for years, simply telling you that the two of you should retire for the night and sliding beneath the covers, opening the other side for you to crawl in after. 

Your initial thought at the behaviour was that he wished to dive between your thighs again, to lick and suckle at the crux of your legs or thrust himself between them, but not once had he pushed for it, or been untoward, in fact, he seemed to open the possibility of a second time to be entirely under your control. 

Not that he didn’t touch you, no, he would slide behind you and tuck you beneath his chin, arm wrapped around your middle to keep you close to him, lips pressing featherlike kisses atop your crown when he thought you had fallen asleep, fingers tracing your curves with a featherlight touch during the night.

The shift was not only different for the dynamic between the two of you and your new living arrangements, but different in your own duties. No longer did the work of the island consume your every waking moment and thoughts, for now you had time to sit, to read, to get a good nights rests and spend more time attending to smaller more menial tasks, like repairing clothing that you usually wouldn’t have time to, or cleaning the cottage throughly. You also felt yourself smiling more, laughing more, enjoying life and what Aemond brought to it. 

It was simple, nothing extravagant of course, but above all, content. It was in those quiet moments when he would tell you a tale of sailing or more sanitised story of his youth, small smile on his lips, did you realise that you were happy. Happier than you had ever been, and in every hour that passed spent with him, a warmth within grew. 

A warmth for him grew.

It wasn’t until you had insisted that Aemond sleep the early morning and for you to tend to the lamp did you realise just how much time had passed. 

You were up the lighthouse on the circular gallery that it had outside, leaning against the railings as you looked out at the water, watching as the dark blue waves rocked softly against the cliff below, and even more gently towards shore, which was slowly becoming illuminated with the sun. But that was not all that was illuminated.

There on the rocking waves, was a row boat, off in the distance, making its way towards you.

It was not an unfamiliar boat, nor was it manned by an unfamiliar man.

William was rowing towards your island, reprieve supplies in tow which he delivered on time, every time, but this time you had forgotten what day it was, how much time had passed since he last came, too preoccupied with the new and exciting presence that had landed upon your beach. 

With swift steps you made your way down the spiral case and sped to the cottage.

What would William say when he saw Aemond?

Would he be shocked?

Would Aemond be compelled to leave?

Would William send word to Aemond’s family and alert the town, thus speeding up Aemond’s farewell?

You selfishly didn’t want him to leave, and almost wished William had forgotten about you, just this once. And there it was, that ache in your chest once again at the thought of him leaving, at the very real knowledge that he would leave, and that you would be alone once more.

When you entered the cottage, Aemond was seated at the table, cup of steaming tea in his hand with another in front of him at your seat waiting. 

Waiting. 

He was waiting for you, with fresh tea made. 

Your eyes welled with tears before you swallowed them down, a lump in the back of your throat forming. You almost didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to see the excitement light in his eye in knowing that he could go.

That brilliant violet eye, a colour you had never thought to be true on a person until you saw him, a colour in which made your heart fill with warmth and stomach full of flurry, looked up at you, smile at the ready until he saw your anxious demeanour. 

Your shifted on your feet back and forth before pulling your coat off to hang at the door awkwardly. 

Sensing your anxiety, Aemond straightened in his seat, “What is it?” His smooth timbre crackled in the air, your back facing him as your face crumpled.

You swallowed and steeled yourself as you turned to sit with him at the table, pulling out your chair opposite to him as you sat quietly, grasping the hot mug in your hands.

“Is there another storm coming?” His voice wavered as he asked, lingering fear of storms still clawing painfully in his mind. The visions of the waves, the darkness, the screams of his men, the water entering his lungs, the-

“A man comes.” Your voice pulled him from his memories, fingers tightening on the sides of the mug, “William. He brings my reprieve.”

Aemond’s silver brows pulled into a frown, “You sent word of my presence.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was an accusation. 

“No.” You shook your head, and watched as he visibly relaxed, “I wouldn’t have sent word unless you asked. William brings my reprieve every fortnight or so. We have been so busy I,” You gnawed at your lip, “I forgot. I thought we would have had longer, but now I suppose when he comes, you can go with him. Take lodge in his home.” You sipped the hot tea to swallow your nervous rambling, but still it broke forth, “I have a friend, a fellow sailor. Dalton Greyjoy, he could take you close to home, another port, anywhere to help. I don’t have money to pay for your passage, but he likes me well enough to perhaps do me this one favour. Or mayhaps you could offer gold on your arrival, I’m sure-“

“-You wish for me to leave?”

“No. But I know you must.” Your heart clenched in pain, you lowered your gaze to the mug of tea in your hands, watching the steam slowly rise from it, “You have a family waiting for you, worried for you. I do not wish to keep you here knowing that I may be causing you pain, or your family pain in the unknown.”

If you had raised your eyes to meet his, you would have seen Aemond frown lightly, but you didn't, so you hadn’t.

“You do not keep me here, and my family are not of your concern.” A beat, “Nor mine.”

Silence wrapped around the both of you as you refused to meet his gaze.

“When shall he arrive?”

You swallowed, looking at the small clock on the mantel, “Within the hour.”

Aemond nodded in your periphery, chair scraping beneath him as he stood, “Excuse me.”

His footsteps echoed on the stone flooring as he made his way to the door, pulling your fathers coat onto his shoulders before he left, no doubt waiting at the small alcove or beach to watch William arrive. 

You stared at the clock for some time, watching as the minutes ticked by, arm moving across its face slowly. But now that he was gone, away from seeing you, you allowed yourself to feel the ache that had crashed inside of you. Tear after tear fell down your cheeks silently as you watched the clock, the heat of the mug that lightly stung your palms, slowly but surely turning cold. 

He would leave, and you would be alone. 

Alone. 

Again. 

And he would leave and marry another.

Not you.

It shocked you that the thought of him laying with another, holding another tightly to him, caressing her, kissing her, smiling at her in ways that only you had seen thus far, made your stomach feel as though a knife was twisting itself inside. The lump in your throat sharp as though a dagger had been thrust through flesh and sinew, obstructing you from swallowing or breathing.

It felt as though you were losing him again. 

You didn’t know why, you couldn’t reason with it, for you had never known him before, but that day on the beach, as he lay lifeless in the sand, you had lost him. 

And then he had come back. 

And now he was to leave once more, and no more would he laugh in your small four walls, nor would he wake you with tea, or twist in the sheets beside you. 

No more would his hand linger upon yours, or his lips, or-

As another tear fell, the door to the cottage opened, and your hands quickly swiped up the wet tracks left behind on your cheeks. Rapid steps moved into the room as the door clunked behind.

“Your friend has arrived.” Aemond breathed, looking at the redness of your eyes and un-wiped tears on your chin. 

You swallowed, that dagger still lodged in place and nodded your head to stand, averting your eyes from his as you brushed down your skirts, “I suppose then I should fare you well.”

All that you could hear was the crackling of the fire and the beat of your heart thundering in your ears. You knew if you looked up at his face, to look into his lilac eye, to gaze upon his soft lips and sharp edges, that you would fall apart.

And so you didn’t, keeping your eyes averted to the corner of the room near the fireplace, wishing for it to be over. Wishing that he had never washed ashore so that you wouldn’t have to bear the heartbreak of him leaving. 

Because that’s what it was, you realised in that moment. 

Heartbreak.

“I’m afraid I will have to ask for your generosity once more.” Aemond breathed, and you blinked, slowly raising your eyes to meet his. His seeing eye searched your face as he breathed heavily, “I feel I may be succumbing to illness. I am falling- I feel,” He swallowed, “I feel compelled to stay. If you’ll have me. If not for a while longer.” His chest rose and fell visibly beneath the coat, hair cascading over his shoulders like waves of water.

He wished to stay?

Here?

With you?

Aemond blinked at your silence as his shoulders slumped slightly. He shook his head, looking to the floor, “Forgive me. That was too much to ask of you-“

“-No.” You shook your head, “No, not at all. If you,” You swallowed thickly, “If you feel unwell and compelled to stay, who am I to cast out a Lord in need?”

Relief washed over the two of you, and an unspoken air of gratitude floated amongst the space. You fought the urge to smile, to laugh, to jump with joy at the prospect of him staying longer. Of wanting to stay longer, of the thought that perhaps staying here with you was better than the prospect of going home to his family. 

His previous words echoed in your head.

Let me stay dead a while longer. 

Was this his staying dead a while longer? Avoiding his duties that awaited him when he returned home?

“Will you tell William of my presence?” His voice broke you from your revere.

You blinked.

Would you?

“Did you wish for me to?”

“No.”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief, “Then I shall not tell William of your presence.”

Aemond shifted on his feet, before nodding, “Thank you.”

You gave him a hopeful smile in response.

-

William arrived not too long after your agreement with Aemond for his extended stay, and hidden presence. You watched on from shore as he pulled his boat up the sand, his warm eyes crinkling at the sight of you.

“Y/n, my girl!” He called out to you, trudging up the sand to you as he pulled you into a tight embrace which you returned heartily, head tucked against his chest. 

Ever since your father had passed, William had become a father figure to you, but he had always been like that. Or at least like an uncle, a man who cared and loved you just as much as he did his own. You considered him family, and he considered you one of the same.

“How have you fared? We worried for you with that storm." His hand gripped your shoulder tightly, "Celia was beside herself with worry, pacing about the fire each night. Thought she would have burnt a hole in the floors by the end of it.” He chuckled, pulling away to look you over as you smiled up at him.

“As you can see, I am alive and well. The sea did not swallow me this time round.” You smiled, and turned to help him pull his boat further up the beach to unpack the supplies.

“Not all were so lucky,” William cast a glance to the remaining debris from Aemond’s ship, “Large pieces of hull washed ashore, we worried the ship had run aground atop the lighthouse.” His voice grew morose, “A few men washed up on the beach, but none survived the storm.”

You nodded solemnly, pulling a large bag of flour from the row boat as you lined it up on the grass with the others, “Debris landed here too. The ship sunk just off of the horizon in the thick of the storm. The sea took all.”

William hummed sadly, “Unbelievable storm that, not even Lord Greyjoy had seen a storm so large. Did any find their way here?”

You straightened, heart beginning to race in your chest. You swallowed and carefully thought of your next words, “One. Though he succumbed to waves like the others.” 

The lie made you shift uncomfortably. You didn’t want to lie to William, but you didn’t want to go against Aemond’s wishes either.

A large hand grasped your shoulder and tightened softly, “There was nothing you could have done. We saw the lighthouse day and night through the storm and thats how we knew you were safe. Celia dragged me to the beach in the rain to make sure it was on as proof of your wellbeing.”

You nodded, “It would take far more than a storm to stop me or the lamp.”

William chuckled, a crackly laugh that was familiar and warm, “Don’t I know it. Now, are you going to make this old man a drink, or do I have to beg for one.”

You laughed at his words, picking up the sack of flour and other bags of food and supplies, leaving the large crates for him to carry, “Come on then, before the Gods take you.”

-

After doing multiple trips and talking along the way, the cottage was now filled with supplies and food for the next fortnight. Flour and dried meats and other items were strewn on the counter and in the kitchen, leaning against the walls and shelves, whilst small jars of pickled foods and jams made by Celia were neatly lined in a small crate on the table.

When the two of you had begun to drop the supplies into the cottage, you held your breath, hoping that Aemond had made himself scarce and out of the way as you came in and out. Thankfully, your bedroom door was for once closed, and you assumed Aemond was keeping himself quiet inside. 

William sipped at the warm tea you made him as he seated himself in the chair that had become Aemond’s, long stocky legs stretched out in front of him as he rubbed a knee with a hand, working some invisible pain or injury out of it.

“Place looks good,” William commented, eyes roaming across the room, “You’ve been busy.”

You hummed in reply, lifting the mug to your lips. 

If only he knew. 

But William’s gaze stopped by the door, eyes locked onto something as he wordlessly stared. 

Shifting in your seat you turned to face it, stomach dropping. 

Beside your empty hook, was the other.

And hung on it, was your fathers old coat.

Aemond’s coat.

Your head turned back to look at William, mouth opening and shutting as you tried to think of an excuse, as you tried to think of a way to explain as to why there was a man’s coat hung on your door when you had supposedly been alone. And as you opened your mouth to explain yourself, to make up some poor take of an excuse, William beat you to it.

“I miss him too.” His voice was lower than it had been before, “Did you keep all his belongings?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, and a pang of grief moved through you. 

Your pa.

He thought you had his coat out because you missed him.

And whilst you did miss him, you were thankful that that was what William thought of it, and not that there was a man living with you, currently hiding in your bedroom. Though, that would be a hard thing for William to believe, even if you told him.

You nodded, “It seemed a waste to be rid of them.” You sipped your tea, wondering where this conversation may lead you. 

William gave a gruff sigh, “Do you not get lonely here? You’re all on your own. A woman your age should have a companion, someone to talk to at the very least. A cat even.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Are you suggesting I marry someone? I have my pigeon, but she’s not very talkative.”

The sea weathered man raised his shoulders, “You’re not getting any younger.” His words irritated you as he continued, “Not that you’re not capable of doing this on your own.” He explained, watching as your eyes narrowed on him, “You’ve proven yourself more than capable for that. I just,” Another sigh, “I know this isn’t what your father wanted for you.”

“Wanted for me?”

“He didn’t want you here, trapped. He wanted you to see the world, to go out and meet someone. He hoped you would settle down, start a family. He did not want to bear the burden of the lighthouse onto you.”

You looked down at the table, “It’s not a burden.”

“I know.” He said, but it didn’t sound as though he believed you, “But how often do you get to do things for yourself?”

You gave him a small smile, “I am perfectly content here, I don’t see why I should have to marry.”

“I’m not saying you have to, I’m merely suggesting the option.”

You hummed, “Well, not many men would like to live this life, nor are they prepared or knowledgable enough for it.”

Except for Aemond.

William laughed, crows feet becoming deeper, “I know you think men are a burden, if not a waste of ones time, but you never know, one may just wash ashore and change your perspective.”

Your breath stilled in your chest.

Did he know?

“What about Greyjoy?” William clicked his fingers, “The Dalton lad.” “His eyes always looks for you when he comes to town. Asks after you; Where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing. Nice lad.”

“Nice enough.” You shifted uncomfortably, “But his heart belongs to the sea, and he would scarcely be home. What life would I live raising a child with a father who blows in with the tide? Not to mention, he has, shall we say, fleeting affections for others.”

William snorted, “I wouldn’t say his affections for you were fleeting, but aye, he is a man of the sea through and through. And those Greyjoys are known for their whoring.”

You guffawed, “William!”

“What?” He looked at you incredulously, “I speak the Gods honest truth. He wouldn’t be my first choice for you, but Celia-“

“Ahh.” You leant back in your chair, “Has Celia been playing the matchmaker of late?”

The older man grumbled, “When has she not? She tried to suggest Edmund Pyke-“

“-The fish mongers son?”

“Aye.” William shook his head, “Meek young man, too meek for the likes of you. I told Celia you’d eat him alive.”

A huffed chuckle fell from your lips, “Not much to devour. If I remember correctly, he stands half your size. Quiet boy.”

“Indeed. Always a shock when you hear him speak, like a mouse’s fart.” The man teased, draining the rest of his tea in one gulp, “But a man like that is no match for a woman like you. You need someone who can take what you give.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, “I doubt any man would be worthy of you. You are so very much like your mother; kind, soft.” A grin pulled at his lips, "But then you are frustratingly stubborn like your father and argumentative to a fault. And Gods awful at making tea.” He grimaced.

“My tea is perfectly fine, thank you very much. If it is so horrible for you to drink, then perhaps you should make yourself scarce.” You bit the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling, and William did the same, until finally he burst into a howling laugh, hand on his stomach as his head bent backwards.

“Oh no,” He grinned, standing with a grunt and pop of his knees, “I don’t worry for you marrying a man, I worry for the poor soul who will have to marry you.” 

You stood to meet him, “Then you needn’t worry, for I see no husband on the horizon by the name of Greyjoy or Pyke.”

William raised a brow, “Just those names then?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, “Be quiet, you.” You smacked him on the chest lightly, letting him pull you in for a final hug.

-

Slowly you walked William back to his boat, chatting quietly amongst yourselves as you went to shore, helping him to drag it down the sand to the water, the little vessel swaying in the small waves, the sun slowly beginning to set in the horizon.

“Now you take care of yourself, you hear me? Come to town and visit when the weather is fare. The girls would love to see you.”

You nodded, promising to come soon, hugging him once more on the sand. 

William took one final gaze at you, eyes searching your face with an almost unreadable expression to it, “You’ve changed.” He pushed his boat further into the water before sitting to face you, rowers in hands as his boat rocked side to side on the small waves, “You’re lighter. Brighter. Before the storm you were dull, but now…” His voice trailed off in the wind as he rowed himself backwards slowly, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love!” He called out, boat moving away from the beach.

“A good thing you know better!” You called out after him, heat rising in your neck and face as your heart began to race in your chest, “Give my love to the girls!” You waved and he nodded, your feet stepping back to avoid a small wave that dragged water up to your boots, “And tell Celia to stop trying to marry me off like a prized mare!”

“I’ll do no such thing!” William yelled back laughing, before finally he was away. 

-

You stood on the beach, watching the man grow smaller and smaller as he made his way back to shore. Your feet had begun to sink into the sand, damp seeping in through the sides before you decided to return back to the cottage. 

When you entered, your bedroom door was open, and Aemond was in the kitchen, pumping water in the dry sink to wash the two cups and put them away. As he heard your approach he turned his head toward you, though not fully.

“He seems a decent man.” He stated softly, hands scrubbing the tea from the cups.

You smiled softly, “He is. I grew up with him. Always visiting me and pa whenever he had the chance. And when pa died, he became a father to me.”

Aemond hummed, “He cares a lot about you, as if you’re his own.” Aemond grabbed a cloth and dried the mugs placing them back on the shelf, “It’s good to see decent men being decent fathers.”

You nodded and smiled. You knew from what Aemond had told you that he did not have a good relationship with his father, and you were more than fortunate to not only have one, but two father figures in your life who had been nothing but loving to you.

And whilst you thought of memories of your pa and William, the air in the cottage shifted.

Aemond dried his hands and turned to face you, his posture stiff, face pulled into a hard line, “You didn’t tell me that Dalton was pursuing you. You would let me leave on his ship with him without saying as much?”

There was something in his eye and the way that he spoke that made you shift on your feet nervously. 

You began to pull your coat from your shoulders, “Pursuing is an exaggeration.” You lied to yourself, “Dalton has no desire to ask for my hand, nor has he ever expressed any desire. His family are Lord’s. He himself is a Lord. His family would never approve of my-“

“-But he wants you.” Aemond said lowly, stepping forward, looking down at you from his nose, “Desires you. I heard William say that he seeks you out, asks after you. It’s clear there is something there between you.”

Your brows furrowed, “Do you make a habit of listening in on others conversations? There is nothing between me and Dalton. I have known him all my life, and to this day nothing has happened. He is scarcely in town, always on the seas exploring new lands, new women. His interest in me is purely physical, I assure you.”

“And is it reciprocated?”

You blanched, blinking up at him, “Reciprocated?”

Aemond’s jaw twitched as he looked down at you, “Do you desire him in the way he desires you? Do you wish for him to touch you?” His voice dropped lower as he stepped towards you, hand coming to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering at the skin of your neck, “To taste you?”

You couldn’t think. 

Couldn’t breathe.

Stuck to the floor as you looked up at the silver haired man whom you now realised was jealous. 

His lilac eye had darkened as he looked down his nose at you, sharp features illuminated harshly by the fire behind him. His lips were pulled into a stiff line, and his chest rose and fell shallowly.

“Well?”

You blinked again, and cleared your throat softly, “No.” You whispered quietly to the room, watched as his brows furrowed in disbelief, “Once I had.” You admitted watching as his jaw ticked, “But that was before I met you. It feels a long time ago, and it was merely a passing thought, one bred by the desire to not be alone.”

At your words, Aemond seemed to relax, his lips softened and brow evened out, though his jaw remained clenched, “And are you alone?”

Your head cocked to the side.

Alone?

But he was standing right with you.

Right in front of you.

“No?”

Aemond huffed a small humourless laugh at your response, clearly you had misunderstood him. 

“Do you feel lonely? With me here?”

You licked your lips, feeling the warmth of his body come closer as he stepped forward, fingers at your neck sliding to the back, tangling themselves into your hair as he pulled you closer. His mouth was a breath apart from yours, his eye on your lips as you heaved uneven lungfuls, waiting for your answer.

You tilted your head upwards, lips brushing against his softly, the feeling sending warmth settling into your gut as you chased his embrace. But Aemond did not let you close the gap, and moved his lips away, awaiting your answer yet again.

As soft as a whisper came your answer.

“Not anymore.”

Aemond’s lips met yours as soon as the words left your mouth, chasing yours in a heated kiss, the hand at the back of your neck tangling in your hair tightly as he pulled you impossibly closer, other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, almost lifting you onto his own feet. 

His lips felt like a breath of fresh air, a fire within you set ablaze with each passing moment. You chased after him as much as he chased after you, your hands desperately pulling his tunic closer to you, neck craned up on your tip toes to reach.

The sailors hands came to the front of your dress, teeth nipping at your bottom lip causing you to gasp. His tongue took advantage of your parted lips, licking into your mouth at the opening. You moaned warmly, feeling his hands pause at the buttons at the front of your dress. You nodded sharply, not willing to part from him to verbally give an answer. 

With practised ease, he began to pull at the buttons one by one, slowly opening the front of your gown. When it was finally undone down to your navel, you parted for air, a wave of realisation crashing over you.

“The lamp.” You breathed breathlessly, rearing your head back to look up at Aemond, night had begun to fall outside.

His eye was half lidded, pupil expanded across the lilac, and a soft pink dusted on his cheeks, “Already lit.” He mumbled before crashing his lips back against yours. 

You made a startled squeak, and wondered briefly when he had had the time to go light it in your absence. But any lingering questioning you had were lost when his large hands scooped under the front of your collarbones and up to your shoulders, slowly sliding the gown down your torso, freeing your arms as he went. 

He stepped back to look over you, goosebumps rising on your skin as his heated gaze roamed over your breasts and body. His lips were pink and swollen from your embrace, and the pupil of his eye expanded.

Feeling a spur of confidence, you undid the small belted laces at the back, letting the heavy dress and skirts fall to the ground beneath you in a puddle.

Aemond was on you in a second, the room tilting as you were suddenly picked up, legs automatically wrapping around Aemond’s hips as he hungrily kissed you, all teeth and tongue and impatience, neediness bleeding through the both of you in a rush of desire.

It was as though wildfire had caught in the space between, and it burnt at you both hotly, the flames licking higher and higher on your bodies, an all consuming need. 

Your need for him burnt.

“Bed.” He murmured into your lips, speedily walking to the room before he dropped you onto the bed with a bounce.

You gazed up at him through your lashes and watched as he pulled his tunic from over his head with one hand in one swift movement, your eyes roaming down his lean body.

Pale littering of scars were on his chest and arms, and your gaze moved lower still to the trail of hair that lead to what was beneath his breeches, the memory of it causing your core to clench around nothing.

Aemond breathed heavily looking down at you before he pulled you to the edge by your feet, a squeak rising from your chest as he loomed over you. 

With haste, Aemond unlaced your boots, throwing them away alongside the stockings he rolled down your legs impatiently. Then came your stays, which did not survive his large, weather worn hands, which tore the laces from their holes, ripping the material at the seams. 

You gasped loudly as he did it, not truly knowing the strength he had hidden, which was then smothered by his wanting mouth, body climbing on top of you as he kissed and nipped sharply at your lips with his teeth, hips pressing down into your own as he ground into you.

Heat settled in your gut with each thrust of his hips, his hardening length brushing against your sensitive pearl each time, sending shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. The kiss consumed you, heat rising in the room as the both of you gripped and pulled at each other desperately, Aemond only breaking the kiss to pave a path down your neck, stopping every so often to suck or bite at your flesh, marking you which caused you to mewl beneath him. 

He sunk lower and lower on the bed, pulling up your slip with his hands as he settled between your thighs once again, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed as you looked down at him. His eye was already on you, watching your face as he breathed cool breaths against your bare core. 

You whimpered as he blew air onto it, cold on your throbbing bud as he smirked up at you, “Sīr lōz.”, He cooed, swiping two fingers gently up your slit, parting your folds.

A finger pressed down on you, watching with delight as you squirmed beneath him. You bucked your hips up towards his lips shyly as he blew against you again, smirking at how you whimpered and writhed, desperate to alleviate the ache that had been building within since he captured your lips with his. 

“Is something wrong?” Aemond smirked, rubbing his fingers through your folds, but never quite touching you were you needed him.

“Please.” You whispered, hips seeking his fingers desperately.

“Please, what?"

You shut your eyes tightly, embarrassment coursing through you, "Please, Aemond."

The man chuckled gently, pressing a kiss just above where you needed him, watching as your eyes opened to look down at him again.

"Syt ao? Mirros.”

Aemond ducked his head between your thighs, hand on either side of your thighs, holding you open for him as he licked a wide stripe up your centre, tongue flicking against your bud.

Your back arched from the bed, eyes screwed shut as pleasure shot through you. The Targaryen moaned into your folds, beginning to lap at them hungrily, thumbs holding you open for him so that he focused on your pearl. 

“Iksā sīr vok syt nyke.” Aemond groaned, two long fingers finding your entrance, slowly beginning to push inside of you. 

Your breath hitched as they entered, immediately curling up to the soft spongey spot inside of you that he found last time, memorising each and every inch of your body and the reactions that you made when he licked, sucked, pressed or rubbed against it. 

The sounds he made as he lapped at your core was filthy, depraved, and down right ravenous, moaning into your cunt as pleasure wound tightly in your belly, his ministrations slowly but surely pulling you towards the edge, no doubt assisted by his low rumblings in his mother tongue.

“Nyke jorrāelagon ao.” He gasped against your thigh, watching his fingers disappear inside of you as he began to fuck them at a faster pace, wetness coating your thighs and the bed beneath you “Gaomā daor gīmigon ziry,” He kissed at your thigh looking up into your eyes with an intensity that made the breath in your chest still, “Yn iksi vēttan naejot sagon.”

Your hips bucked, one hand releasing the sheets to card through his hair, his lilac eye momentarily shutting as you pulled lightly at the strands, a hum vibrating his chest, “Common tongue, please.”

“More tongue?” Aemond responded cheekily, eyebrow raised at you, and before you could quip back, he was back to using his mouth on you, sucking your pearl into his mouth as his fingers did not slow, the tension in your gut about the break. 

“Oh.” You breathed, mouth open, “Oh Gods. Oh- fucking Hells.” Pleasure raced through you violently, and a long pealing whine flitted from your lips as you reached your peak.

Aemond sucked your bud into his mouth as he flicked his tongue against it, fingers fucking inside of you speedily through it, the wet squelching of your release loud in the room with each thrust of his hand. Your grip in his hair tightened and you pulled, still falling from the precipice he had brought you to, a deep grunt vibrating into your already sensitive core. 

“Aemond- Nng- Please. Slow down.” You whined, writhing as the pleasure soon turned borderline painful, too overstimulated to function.

With a final broad wipe of his tongue, the silver haired man ceased his movements, allowing for your body to finally slump into the pillows, a light sheen of sweat covering you. 

Your eyes slid shut as you huffed a laugh, whimpering lightly when he pulled his fingers from within you. Aemond placed wet kisses to the top of you mound, your hip bones, and then to your stomach which he revealed by pulling your slip up your body. 

Only did your eyes re-open when he kept lifting the slip up over your breasts, his mouth coming down to capture a pert nipple in his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue, teeth lightly holding it in place as he slotted his hips against you once again.

You moaned, hands sliding down his sides to his breeches which were still very much on his hips.

“Off.” You breathed, tugging at his pants, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft pop.

“Patience, byka perzys.” Little flame, Aemond chuckled, shifting to drag his breeches down his legs, kicking them off the bed along with his boots. 

When he laid back against you, his hands moved to your shift again, pulling it over your head, leaving the two of you bare before each other once again. His head dipped and captured your lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue tart and musky.

Swiftly, Aemond used his thighs to part your own, moving them over the top of his as he lined the hard tip of his cock up with your soaked entrance.

Without pause, Aemond slid inside of you, catching your gasp in his mouth as you stretched around him. There was only the slightest of stings this time, your body far more relaxed than the first time.

The head of his cock pressed against your cervix snugly as he pushed to the hilt, the feeling of fullness spreading within you and up through your gut. You don't think that you could ever get used to such a feeling, such an all encompassing fullness that would forever shock you.

Aemond didn’t wait to give you a chance to adjust, and began to thrust himself through your silky walls immediately, sparks of pleasure beginning rippling up your body. A large hand held your hip, whilst the other buried itself in your hair, tilting your head further back for him to dive his tongue into your mouth, flicking at your own as you messily grabbed and kissed one another.

Feeling yourself begin to jolt up the bed, you lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer to you, desperate whine moving through you as his hips clapped against yours.

It was frenzied, fiery, and with each smack of his hips, you felt your wetness spread against his thighs and hair at the base of his length, his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive nub.

“Sīr ȳrda.” He moaned, head dipping into the crux of your neck, hand on your hip skimming to the globe of your ass, squeezing it as he fucked you harder, grunts spilling from his lips growing louder.

“You feel so good.” You whimpered, hands clawing at his back sharply as you felt a familiar coil within begin to wind again, “Please.”

Aemond raised his head to look down at you, your gaze meeting his. With his thumb, Aemond began to swirl small, wet circles into your pearl, accelerating your oncoming release. The lilac of his eye looked almost black as he lowered his voice to you.

“Take it from me.” 

Pleasure coursed through your veins. Blinding white heat pummelling through you as you reached your peak below him.

“There you go.” He cooed, watching as your release crashed over you.

Aemond tumbled over the edge with you with a cry. Your nails dug into his back as he sped up, looking down intently, mouth slack as he watched you come apart from below, not once breaking your locked gaze.

His forehead pressed into yours as he slowed, the throbbing of his length inside you and warmth of his spend filling you causing a smaller wave of pleasure to race through you, your walls clamping down onto him. Aemond hissed before coming to a stop, the both of you panting heavily, bodies going slack, the weight of him on top bringing you an odd sense of comfort.

Carefully Aemond rolled off of you, his cock sliding out from your sensitive walls as he lay on his back, pulling you into his side to tuck your head beneath his.

You curled into him immediately, as though you had done it a million times before, fitting perfectly at his side. You wrapped an arm around his middle, lifting a leg to hook over his hips, which he held and sooth his his hand. 

Your entire body was buzzing with the after mass of your release, limbs feeling heavier than they once were. The two of you sweaty and satiated, whilst small little huffs of joy breathed into the space as you both fell into a comfortable rest.

 -

Another week goes by, and soon enough, it had been almost a month since Aemond washed ashore on your island. 

Almost a month since the largest storm you had seen raged across the horizon and into the headlands.

Almost a month since you had nursed a man back from death and back to the living.

Almost a month since your heart began to grow fond of the man. 

Almost a month since you had grown content with Aemond’s presence. 

Things had changed again, not in any negative way, but things became more passionate, more heated, more tender.

Aemond would touch you whenever he could, hold you whenever he could, hand pressed against yours. Lips to yours, or your cheek, or forehead, and his his hands would seek you in gentle caresses that would set you alight and wanting for more.

And he always gave you more.

He seemed to be insatiable, never quite getting his fill, and whatever he had awoken inside of you was equal in fever. 

You noted that his personal preference was to be between your thighs, lapping at your folds whenever he could, pulling peak after peak from you whether on your bed, or the couch, against the table or walls or doors or kitchen bench. And even, on one occasion, in the lighthouse, pressed against the bricks with a leg hitched over his shoulder. 

Aemond never seemed to get enough of it, always insisting on it before he would sink himself inside of you. You had asked him why once, and he had flushed, stating that it was to prepare you, but when you had asked again, he said that there was no greater sweetness in all the lands he had travelled to than your, so eloquently put, cunt. 

Not that you minded, in fact, it began to be a favourite pass time of your own. 

When you had woken that morning, it wasn’t to your usual bodily clock, rising before the sun after years of habit, but rather to the warm and wet sensation that prodded and swiped between your legs.

You rose with a moan, and then a deeper one as you found Aemond between your thighs kissing your centre like a man starved. It didn’t take him long to get you to reach your peak, and when you had, he had smiled almost smugly, and stated that that was all he needed to eat for the day.

But the newfound intimacy and exploring each others bodies wasn’t all that you enjoyed in your shifting tides together. Each moment spent with Aemond you learnt more about him. Piece by piece he would reveal new information to you. A new memory, a new story, a new piece of knowledge about the mysterious man that you would itemise and lock away in the back of your mind to create a larger picture of the man in front of you.

You spent hours reading together when not working, for double the hands makes for swift work, and you found that for the first time in your life, you had the ability to sit down, to breathe, to not have every waking moment thinking about the lighthouse and only the lighthouse. And in those moments of breath and thought, you realised how much you truly had been missing out on in life. 

You had thought you had been content alone, but the more time you spent with him, the more time you spent reading or hearing about his own adventures, you realised, much to your dismay, how you longed to do the same. But you couldn’t ever leave, for no-one would man the lighthouse after you, at least no-one you would know to be so proficient. Unless it was William himself, but he had a wife and daughters and a job of his own, and you would never ask him to do such a thing for your selfish wants and imagination.

And so you were content in savouring each moment you had with the sailor whilst he was still there, laughing loudly over whiskey as he told you of a story of his older brother losing a wooden sword match with one of his nephews, or another time in which his brother Aegon had grown so drunk at a family event, that two maids had to assist him to bed, dropping him halfway up the stairs as they went.

You learnt that his sister, Helaena, was a sweet and gentle woman with a soft and kind heart. She had, what he called, a nervous or paranoid disposition, and often believed her dreams that things were to happen, the family taking no notice to her fretting. Though he did note, with an ashen face, that she had warned him once about a danger beneath the eye. 

Had she meant the eye he lost?

Or the eye of the storm which led to his ships demise, and almost his own?

Aemond did not know.

His mother, you learnt, Alicent, was a stern and pious woman, heavily religious and intent on him performing his duties and marrying a young Lady from a neighbouring land. Though at times she seemed to be somewhat overbearing and traditional in his retellings, when he spoke of her, there was a deep fondness in his eye, and it made you all the more disappointed in yourself for having kept him away from them.

During his stay, Aemond kept his promise to you, teaching you what he could of High Valyrian when you had the chance. It was a struggle to start, but you picked it up quicker than you had thought you would. 

He would praise you for your pronunciation, which only led you to want to do better for him, his words of affirmation doing something to your heart and body, which resulted in you mumbling words and phrases beneath your breath every chance you had to perfect them. 

You also learnt that he had an older sister, estranged, not talked about and something that was clearly a taboo for the sailor, but when he did mention her, it was to note that her High Valyrian was more advanced as their father had spent ample time teaching her, but not his four other children.

Aemond was, for the most part, self taught, besides the help of a lone tutor which Aemond noted was poorly. 

Each time he shared a piece of himself to you, your heart longed to go with him, to see the famed Keep where his family resided. To meet his mother Alicent who was such an important person in his life, as well as his sister Helaena. You wished to meet Aegon, to see if he truly was as bumbling as Aemond had told you. 

You wished to see the foods they had, imported from foreign lands you couldn’t pronounce, to walk the Gardens of the Keep, to see the ashen barked Weirwood tree in his Godswood, to try a starfruit, which Aemond had a craving for almost every second day, the shape and flavour a wonder to you. 

You wished to be a part of his life, a part of his family, and a tiny, foolish part of you thought that perhaps you could. But the more rational side knew that it could not be, that you were of low rank, and you could not leave the lighthouse unmanned, and as each day passed with this heavy revelation, came the looming of a dark cloud above you.

-

The fresh scones you had made were still soft and fresh, Celia’s jam spread thickly on top as a treat for the both of you that morning. The cottage was cold, but the heat of the fire radiated warmth around the two of you, a subtle wind whistling past the windows outside. 

Despite the bright mood the two of you had, started by Aemond waking you up between your thighs, that cloud still loomed over the top of you, dread and anticipation of what was to come nipping at you like a hound.

“Celia makes great jam. I should like to thank her one day.” Aemond hummed, popping a small broken piece of scone into his mouth to chew, licking the jam off the pad of his thumb after he swallowed.

You nodded, smiling, though it didn’t reach your eyes, “You should thank her yourself in person. I am sure she would like to meet a real Targaryen.”

His eye searched your face, “One day.”

“But when?” You swallowed, preparing your speech which you had practiced over and over in a loop in your head, finding some way that would make him want to stay, to make him want you.

The silver haired man frowned, placing the rest of his scone on his plate as he sat himself straighter, “When?”

“Yes. When.” The lump in your throat grew larger with each passing second, “You have a family, duties, a life. Your mother must be beside herself with worry and grief, and I fear that I am taking you from that. I fear I am creating pain for you all.”

“Taking me?” Aemond sounded confused, eye swiftly searching your face as you straightened in your chair.

“I do not wish to…force you to stay here, or corrupt you into thinking I could be anything other than this.” You watched as his frown deepened, lips pulling into a thin line, “I cannot keep you here as much as I wish to.”

His frown softened, “You wish for me to stay?”

“Kessa.” (Yes) You said quietly, “But I know it is not the reality we live in. You are a Lord, I am-“

“-Why do you always bring up my rank?”

“Because it means something. If your family found out that you have been here, with someone like me, the talk alone could ruin your potential list of decent wives. Your future. I fear I have already tainted-“

“-Tainted?”

“Yes, I-“

“-Why do you believe yourself to ever be capable of tainting me?” Aemond’s voice was stern, colder than before, as though angry at your words. You looked down at the table shyly, focusing on the scone smeared with jam.

“You do not think you could stay here forever, do you?”

Aemond huffed air through his nose, “I can do whatever I like. Go where I please, see who I wish. For now, my family believes me to be dead, and even if I was known to be hale and healthy, I can still do as I please.”

“But your mother-“

“-My mother,” Aemond began, voice softening, “Will one day come to understand.”

You shook your head, confusion coursing through you, “I don’t understand.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed, teeth pressing sharply against each other before he adjusted himself to sit even more impossibly straighter, “Do you believe in the Gods?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, “Of course. I would not have prayed to them if I did not.”

“Then you must believe the Gods control our paths and fate.”

Paths and fate?

What was he talking about?

“Yes, I believe so. But I don’t understand what the Gods have to do with you needing to go home.”

Aemond took a deep breath through his nose, his hand on the table as fingers flexed and then curled back into a fist, dropping into his lap out of sight, “My ship sunk for a reason. I do not believe that it happened without purpose. I drowned and came back for a reason. You prayed to the Gods to save me, and they did.” His tongue peeked out of his lips to wet them, and your heart began to race in your chest, “The Gods gave me a second chance at life and brought me straight to you.” He shook his head, silver locks falling over his shoulders, “Before you, I was unhappy, but with you? I have never been so content. So… at peace.”

Tears prickled at your eyes, your own hands twisting in your lap, “Please do not say such things to me, Sir. My heart cannot bear it.”

Aemond leant forward, “But it is the truth. And mine own heart cannot bear the thought of leaving here. Of leaving you.”

A tear fell from your eye, sliding wetly down your cheek as you looked at him, his figure blurred in your vision, “You cannot want me.”

“I can. And I do.”

A sob fell from your lips as you looked at him, “This is cruelty, Aemond. You cannot- You can’t- Your family would never allow it. You cannot say these things to me, do not give me false hope. Do not give me reason to believe.”

Aemond's hand lifted on top of the table, palm up, offered to you. 

You looked at his palm, and the soft smooth skin there, and wished to mark it. You wished to mark him so that he could never leave, so that he could never be without you without evidence of you existing.

“False hope would be to say that I could ever leave here with my heart intact.” His hand waited for you on the table, “Please.”

Another tear fell from your cheek, “You cannot want a life like this. You cannot want a life with me. I have no money, I cannot ever leave, I would never trap you here with me.”

“You could never trap me in the first place. I am yours.”

I am yours.

Another sob fell from your lips, chest aching at the thought of losing him, at the thought of him leaving you. That this declaration would be for naught, that he had not truly thought this over, but deep inside of you, you hoped, dreamed, begged the Gods for his words to be true.

Aemond’s hand slid off the table and back into his lap as he stared at you, silence creeping across the table.

“I am just as much yours. Irrevocably.” You breathed, watching as relief flooded Aemond’s face, “But I cannot ask this of you. Not when you lose so much if you do.”

Aemond stood from his seat, swiftly coming towards you where he knelt in front of you, forcefully taking your hand in his as he looked up into your tear filled eyes. His thumb brushed over your knuckles soothingly, his other hand briefly coming to swipe a tear from your cheek before meeting the other that held yours.

“You are not asking me to do anything, byka perzys.” His words came swiftly, eye searching your face as tear after tear fell down your cheeks, “And if you were, I would do it. A thousands times over, I would do it. If you asked me to walk back into the sea, I would do it. For you, I would do it.”

“Aemond,” You shook your head sadly, mouth opening again to argue, but he interrupted you.

“-I want to stay.” His hands gripped yours tighter, “Here. With you. I want to be with you. Always.” He swallowed thickly, “If you’ll have me.”

Your blood thumped loudly in your ears as you looked at him. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t speak, mind going a thousand miles an hour. 

He wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay here.

With you.

“Please do not turn me away. The fate of the seas would be kinder.” His voice cracked, and your heart ached.

There was no turning back, no moving from this conversation without an outcome. 

It all just depended on which path you wished to go. Which path your heart ached for most, and that was for him to stay. But would it come without consequences? Would his decision to stay be a mistake he would come to resent you for? 

You had nothing to lose, he had everything to.

But the way he was looking at you, the way he was patiently and nervously awaiting your answer, watching as tears continued to fall from your eyes, not just out of grief, but sheer overwhelming love for the man knelt before you, offering all that he was, sacrificing all that he had, and for you.

A small smile cracked on your lips, and you watched as his eye became hopeful. Your hand lifted to his cheek, caressing it softly to cup his jaw as you looked him over; his lilac eye, the sharp aquiline of his nose, the way his plump lips pulled sharply at its peaks. Never in your dreams could you have imagined such a man, and never in your life did you think to imagine that a man such as him could be yours.

And it was in that moment that you made your decision.

You smiled, small sobbing laugh escaping your lips as you rubbed a thumb against his skin, feeling the smooth stubble beneath it, “The Gods brought you to me.” You whispered, eyes searching his face for any sign of regret or trepidation, and when you found none, you continued, “Who am I to turn you away?”

And there it was, that full smile that you had grown to love. 

Aemond’s lips pulled widely revealing his teeth as he beamed up at you. 

Never had you felt such joy, such elation inside of you at the sight, your heart feeling as though it became full, a fire settling into your chest raging as it always did with him, for he always made it feel as though he set you alight.

“Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond declared softly with a smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners, lilac dancing with admiration, the unseeing eye reflecting the light of the sun outside like a cloudy morning sky. 

He sat up on his knees and leant forward, face coming towards you before his eye shut, and his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands grabbed his face, and he did yours, diving his fingers into your hair, holding you to him gently as he slowly sought your lips with his own. 

It was not rushed, it was not frantic, but patient, the both of you knowing that you were no longer running on limited time. No longer stealing moments together before the end.

No longer was there a looming departure of his presence in your life, and as though a breeze from outside swept inside the house, the dark looming cloud that had situated itself above you cleared.

When finally did you part, breathless and giddy, a curiosity took over.

“What does that mean?” You questioned, burning desire to know eating away at you, “What you said?”

And there was that smile once more, and you knew in your heart what it meant after that.

“You will know soon enough.”

Translations:

Sīr lōz - So wet

Syt ao? Mirros - For you? Anything

Iksā sīr vok syt nyke - You are so perfect for me

Nyke jorrāelagon ao. I need you

Gaomā daor gīmigon ziry, Yn iksi vēttan naejot sagon - You do not know it, but we are made to be.

Sīr ȳrda - So tight

Avy jorrāelan - I love you

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@blackswxnn @marihoneywk @targaryenrealnessdarling @namelesslosers @aemondsfavouritebastard @dahlias-and-marigolds @aemondsbabygirl @toodlesxcuddles @jemmaagentofshield @malfoytargaryen @bellaisasleep @aaprilshowers @assortedseaglass @elizarbell @xpersephonex @lijeno @likeanecho344 @coffeeobsessedtrencher @diannnnsss @lexwolfhale @notasockpuppetaccount @at-a-rax-ia @spinachtz@marysucks-blog @generalkenobitrash @zenka69 @shygardengalaxy-blog @kittendoll05 @300nightmare003

[z3rinn]

# #. KINGDOM CALLING !!

Being a Keyblade Wielder you thought you'd have seen everything by now. But you never expected to end up in a world where the villains you defeated were worshipped.

more twst x kh content because i’ve been hyper fixated on it for the past few months T_T speaking of, the reason I've been gone for so long is because I’ve now got a fic in the makings- using this exact concept! it’s posted on my wattpad and quotev, but I’m also debating if I should put it on this site… it’s quite long though! lmk if you guys think I should :]

Twisted Wonderland was weird.

You thought you’d have seen everything by now. Being a Keyblade Wielder, your job was to travel across worlds, defeating the darkness and hate spread by those willing to conquer.

You’d experienced stories and magic you could barely comprehend, standing on the sidelines as you watched fairytales play right before your eyes.

Creatures and supernaturals were considered friends, being far different from the monsters you imagined them to be. Even talking animals were a common thing now, having traveled with Donald Duck and Goofy for a better part of three years now.

You never thought you'd miss them.

Your life back on Destiny Islands was simple. Back there, you had a home; with small rowing boats and hammocks on the tiny island a quick swim away. You had proper food, with star shaped fruits said to bind your soul with your loved ones. Most importantly- you had your best friends; Sora, Riku, and Kairi— all eccentric yet lovable characters that held your heart. You would do anything for them.

The island was a sanctuary, a place for comfort and familiarity. If you had known what you did now, you would've trapped yourself there, basking in the warm sand and cool water brushing across your body. But then, being young and immature, you just wanted to leave.

Three years have passed since then. Years full of mystery and surprise.

You had undergone many things on your journey; battling against Heartless and monsters. Falling down rabbit holes and encountering princesses every which way you turned. Meeting leaders of all kinds of worlds, binding your hearts to create everlasting friendships. You had even sided with villians, willing to set aside your differences to accomplish your goals.

It was odd… working with Maleficent.

At one point you even had your heart stolen. Ripped away from you to create a husk. And that was just the surface.

You thought you had seen everything by now....

But Twisted Wonderland was weird.

Everything happened so suddenly; kicking open an overly fancy coffin ( far different from the ones Jack Skellington used ) only to be met by a creature that looked oddly like Stitch. But before you could ask anything, he gave chase, demanding you give him your robes— how did you even get these on?

Panic stricken, you ran. Running across classrooms, hallways, and courtyards- all while trying to get away from the cat.

Questions and concerns began to gush through your mind. How could you have gotten here? Where was everyone?

And where were you?

The next thing you knew, you were in a regal library, cornered by the monster. Floating books and dancing lanterns surrounded you, all approaching with intrigue. They all seemed to be observing you, like they were anticiping something.

Blue fire brushed across your skin, the flames flickering against your robes. You realized they were waiting for a spell, like they knew you would cast it before the thought could even pop into your mind.

Just as you raised your hand, getting ready to summon your Keyblade, a whip wrapped around the cat.

Both of you jumped, eyes darting to the double doors, finding a crow-looking man standing there. He looked oddly disappointed. Your eyes immediately narrowed, hands tensing.

Just looking at him made you feel on edge.

He was radiating darkness.

His golden eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, gazing deep and pulling you apart from the seams. They pierced through your own. Entrancing. Like they were studying and discerning your moves. You didn't like them.

They looked like a villians.

You were wary of the man, raising a brow when he introduced himself. Crowley was his name; Descendant of a Hero. An odd name for someone whose heart seemed so full of darkness. He led you to a chamber room, surrounded by floating coffins and magic. Dark energy overfilled the room, whispers and cackles echoing from robed figures as they eyed your form.

You thought back to Organization XIII.

You didn't like robes all that much anymore.

They were traumatizing.

Crowley huffed, pushing you in front of— the magic mirror? Was that the one The Evil Queen used?

The mask in the mirror spoke, blank eyes narrowing at you as if you'd attack it at any second. Of course, it had every right to be afraid. Your friend literally threw a giant key at it once. Hopefully it could get passed that though, and you could ask it how you got here?

It bullshitted something about you not having a soul, ( you had a strange inkling it was being petty but whatever ) but before it could finish, the cat broke free.

He yelled, claiming he was strong enough to be at this school, and that he deserved your spot. You tilted your head at his outburst. Was that all he wanted? You gladly would've given your spot to him. You weren’t meant to be in this world in the first place. Hopefully you’d be out of here soon.

You had Heartless to go fight.

You had to go find Sora.

A quick mishap occurred, with Grim ( you remembered his name ) setting the room on fire. Apparently he was trying to show off his magic; an odd way to do so but you digress. A red haired boy chased after him, along with a boy with glasses.

Their magic was strange, coming out of a jeweled pen of all things.

Wind magic was casted, similar to your own Aero spells. Water attacks were aimed at it, easily dousing the blue flames. It was honestly amazing, watching so much magic come out of a tiny pen.

The redhead stopped in front of the cat, pointing his pen at him with narrowed eyes. Your own widened as he shouted a curse.

Off with your head.

That sounded awfully familiar.

…

Crowley was going to kick you out.

The magic mirror- or rather the dark mirror- explained that you didn't have a home to go to. You guessed it was because Destiny Islands was a whole other world, and simple mirror travel wouldn't be able to reach that far.

No matter, you could simply contact Donald or Riku on your Gummi phone and go home.

But of course, the first time a phone specifically made to communicate between worlds doesn't work is when you need it most.

So you did the only thing you could.

And showed him your Keyblade.

He muttered something to himself, widened eyes never leaving the blade in your hand. His feathers ruffled in surprise and intrigue, the slight curl of them being… strange. 

It was as if they were smiling.

Your eyes flickered to his own- noticing his scary… intense gaze.

You didn’t dare break contact, being far too focused on those piercings eyes. 

Those haunting, golden eyes. 

Eyes that looked just like Xehanorts.

The Headmage led you to a rundown cabin, home to a variety of ghosts and cobwebs. The building reminded you of the ones in Halloween Town; rundown with mischievous creatures inhabiting the spaces. These ghosts just looked like marshmallows.

You let out a low sigh, allowing yourself to fall on the dusted couch in the lounge. Debris flew up under your weight, flying into the air before dissapting. Your gaze was focused on the ceiling above, dazed as rain droplets fell to your cheeks and the wooden floors below.

The building was silent, aside from the rain. Wind blew against cobwebs, flying past your face and sticking to the rotting wood. Splinters and jagged pieces spiked up, parts of the walls ripped apart from age and student endeavors.

It was lonely here.

You didn't have anyone in this world.

Not even Jiminy fucking Cricket.

You hadn’t been alone in a long time.

The door creaked open, "Myah- it's really pouring out there!"

...

Twisted Wonderland.

That's what this place was called.

A world very befitting for its name.

Everything about this world was off— or at least— Night Raven College was.

Students seemed to love and adore the beings you had tried so desperately to keep away. They had dorms dedicated to them, embracing their darkness and allowing themselves to fall under its curse. Darkness that you had to get rid of.

Of course, they didn't actually know about the dangers you faced, finding these villians to be great and kind. They didn't know of the death and tragedy caused- the mistakes you had to fix.

It was strange though. Worlds weren't supposed to know of one another, otherwise chaos could ensue.

So why was Twisted Wonderland a combination of them all?

You suppose that's how this place got its name.

Everything in this world was twisted. Villians were considered heroic; great and all mighty beings that you and Sora definitely didn't beat.

While in the botanical gardens you sometimes laugh, imagining Leona's face if you told him you helped kill Scar. He gives you weird looks, telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. You try. It doesn’t work.

It wasn't until the Riddle incident did you realize why you were sent to this world. Darkness and hatred had been accumulating in the corners of this realm, seeping into the depths of people's hearts.

It was at times like this that made you miss Sora.

You turned over on your bed, eyes focused on the ceiling above. Moonlight seeped in through the wooden cracks, bits of the glowing celestial body peeking in. It was almost speaking to you, luring you towards it with the promise of comfort.

Kingdom Hearts.

Your eyes shut, turning away from the beckoning moon.

Well whatever. You had another long day ahead of you.

…

Thoughts? This was just a quick wip that I made in like an hour lolll. I’m thinking of doing another part tho, where we dive into character interactions and such. Rlly wanna write for Silver and a KH! MC!

[book-place]

Freak

Warnings: maze runner series spoilers, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Thomas x daughter reader

Request: Hi if requests are open I would like to request something for Maze Runner?? Can you please write a Thomas x daughter using the dialogue prompts 18, 20, 28 please? Ps I loved your Matt Murdock story!!!Thank you and 100% your choice

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: Life might not have been necessarily kind to you or your father, but he would be there for you. Always.

A/N: This isn’t that good, but it’s also the first piece of writing I’ve posted in months so pls give me a break 😭- also I didn’t do one of the prompts bc it didn’t fit in, sorry!!

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

It had been six years.

Six years since the Gladers had made it out of that godforsaken maze. Six years since WCKED was taken down. Six years since they had found the safe haven.

Six years since Tereasa died. Leaving Thomas alone to raise you, their infant daughter.

Those six years, while nothing but a blessing- a gift of being out of that maze, being free of WCKED- have been years full of hardship.

Not all of it was hardship though, of course, Thomas loved you more than anything in the world. You were a miracle in his eyes.

But after having you, he thought that it would be him and Teresa raising you- together.

Sure, he had all of his friends- his family- to help him. They had done more for him- for you- then they would ever know, but it wasn’t the same.

You never had a mother, and you never knew the difference between having one or not.

There were other children that were about your age on the island, ones from families that had been taken in by Thomas and his friends and offered sanctuary.

So when you all weren’t in the school that was set up, you were all playing off together somewhere.

To Thomas’s knowledge, that’s where you were right now.

“Where’s the little pipsqueak?” A voice sounded from behind the man.

Thomas turned, finding Minho leaning against a wall behind him with his arms crossed lazily over his chest.

The man smiled lightly, leaning back on a desk behind him, “With the other kids, where else?”

Minho's eyebrows furrowed slightly, “The other kids? She’s not with them.”

Despite not having any idea what his friend was talking about, Thomas still felt his heart stutter and pause for a beat.

“What do you mean?” He asked lowly.

It had been six years without any problems that were anything like what they had experienced in the past, but that didn’t mean that Thomas ever forgot what it felt like, ever let go of the past.

Even though he might not look it, there was a part of him that was always on alert. Always tense. Waiting for something to happen.

Minho's face grew more concerned, “All the kids were playing at the bay, n/n wasn't with them. I came over because I wanted to see if she wanted to come help me make dessert with Frypan.”

The room was spinning. The lights were too bright. The air was too suffocating-

Thomas felt for a moment as though he couldn’t breathe.

In reality, it might not have been a big deal, you could’ve just wandered off to talk to Brenda or Gally, but your felt as though he was going into full on panic mode.

Too much had happened in his life, too much had been taken from him, too much had gone wrong.

You couldn’t be next. You couldn’t.

You were the only thing that kept him going after your mother died.

Immediately, Thomas pulled himself back together, and left the room, Minho following closely behind him.

The men fell into step side by side as their heads whipped around, eyes searching for any sign of you as they trekked through the built town of the safe haven.

Frypan emerged from his home, frowning slightly as he looked at the pair and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, “What’s going on?” He called out.

“We don’t know where Y/n is.” Minho answered, Thomas too focused on looking to do so himself.

That was all it took for Fry to fall into step beside them too.

That’s how it went, house after house, until all of the surviving Gladers- plus Jorge and Brenda- were looking all over for you.

You were nowhere to be seen.

The sound of laughter made the groups ears all perk up as they turned to see the kids that had been down by the water running up, shoving each other slightly.

“Kids, have you seen Y/n?” Minho immediately asked.

Quickly, all of the children glanced at each other before shaking their heads back and forth so fast that it looked as though they were going to get whiplash.

The man’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at them, but before he could open his mouth to question them further, they rushed past him and to their respective houses.

The group of adults blinked at their retreating backs.

Thomas felt his heart tighten even more in his chest.

“She’s in the woods.” A small voice spoke up.

They all whipped back around to see one little girl still standing there, kicking her toe sheepishly at the ground.

That was all it took for Thomas to turn on his heel and barrel towards the cluster of trees just on the outskirts of all of the buildings.

His heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he was sure the others, running a few feet behind him, could hear it loud and clear.

He ran and ran, dodging trees and narrowly missing bushes until a sound other than slamming footsteps reached his ears. It was so faint that he barely even heard it.

Sniffles.

Thomas pulled himself to a stop, peering around the tree in front of him, only to see you, with your legs pulled up to your chest and your back against a large rock, crying into your arms.

He heard the others come to a stop behind him, “Thanks, guys, I got it from here.” He whispered, not tearing his eyes away from you.

They were clearly just relieved that you were there, because they nodded and went back the way they came without a word.

“N/n?” Thomas’s voice was soft as he carefully approached, “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of your fathers voice and he felt as though his heart shattered into a thousand small pieces.

Not only was your hair tousled every which way, but your eyes were red and puffy and your cheeks were tear stained.

Quickly, you tried to wipe them away, but Thomas sank into a crouch in front of you and gently grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face, “What’s wrong?” He asked gently, eyes scanning your face.

Your bottom lip wobbled despite your clear efforts to make it seem as though you were okay, a stubborn trait you no doubt got from him.

Gently, he moved a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

That was all it took for you to start sobbing once more.

“The- the other kids-“ You stuttered out, hiccuping slightly, “They were being really- really mean. They said it was weird that I don’t have a mom- and- and that makes me a freak.”

The sadness in Thomas’s heart was quickly met with a sea of fiery rage.

“They said that to you?” It took every fiber of the man’s being to keep himself from clenching his fists and setting his jaw.

He knew from experience that if you were upset and he got angry- even if it wasn’t directed at you- it would just make things worse.

So instead of scooping you up and angrily marching to find those other kids and their parents, he sighed gently, “Honey, can I hug you?”

He also knew that it was better to ask, just in case you reacted negatively.

In response, you fell into his open arms and sobbed into his shirt.

“Shh,” He shushed you, combing his fingers through your hair, “Hey, don’t cry on me. They don’t deserve your tears.”

It took a while until you finally calmed down, reduced to hiccups and sniffles.

And Thomas held you until you did, rocking you gently as he comforted you to the best of his ability.

“Honey, listen to me.” He pulled back slightly so he could look you in the eyes, “You are not a freak. You are the kindest, sweetest, most funny girl I know. And if your mother was here, she would think so too.”

Your eyes lit up as you stared up at your father, “Really? You think so?”

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, “I know so.” He promised, “Now, come on.” He lifted you so you were propped up against his hip, “I think Uncle Minho would like to bake with you and Fry while I go talk to those kids and their parents.”

Bloody Shanks 🧪- @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @etanordoesbullsh1t @wolfmoonmusic

[cultofdixon]

Lost in your own mind

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • We all have hard days and sometimes we need our partners to hold us just to make it a little less hard • ANGST/SFW • TW: Depression

Requested by: Anon

I…don’t quite know what’s happening.

The Saviors war ended…I should be happy, right?

Well…Abraham died…Glenn died, and Maggie has to raise her son alone…

Rick kept that monster alive…

Our family split into the communities…

We aren’t…all together anymore.

I don’t know what’s happening anymore

“Are you going home soon?” Carol asks Daryl as she comes to check on him after taking a month's watch for the Sanctuary.

“Just finished getting my shit together.” The archer states dropping his bag by his bike, noticing Carol’s concerned expression which bubbled his own. “What? What aren’t yea saying?”

“Y/N missed a few trading days. Michonne went in her place and wouldn’t really…tell me what’s happening”

I knew it was a mistake to go. I just—-“Is she—-“

“No! No, thankfully. That’s the only thing Michonne would update me on. She doesn’t know why Y/N hasn’t left the basement you two call home. Rick would send food down with Judith so she couldn’t say no to it. I think she’s depressed”

“Could that have been because I left to do this?”

“Hey, there’s no need to blame something or someone. Sometimes people fall into a depressive episode without a reason…” Carol leaned against the loading dock crossing her arms and avoiding his eye contact for a moment. “It could be because we were in survival mode during the war that we couldn’t feel anything else”

Daryl nods to her words taking it in and realizing that explains a lot of the feelings almost everyone affected by the war has been having.

“I…You sure it ain’t cuz—-“

“Daryl, if you’re talking about the moment…the exact moment after the war just ended? You know she understands why you pushed her away but that was months ago. Not everyone is going to feel everything that happened to them because of Negan and the Saviors right when the war is over”

Hell, you’re still going through it

You’re still back there.

Daryl rode his bike throughout the night have escorting Carol back to the Kingdom to make sure she got home safe before going back home to Alexandria. He knew his mind was racing on the endless possibilities of Y/N could be doing while in this episode but all she did was not leave their home beneath the Grimes residence.

The archer was greeted by a few friends as he entered the community, and was informed that Rick and Michonne weren’t in (Jude being watched by Aaron). So he’ll be alone with his partner until the Grimes return.

To his surprise, Y/N was in the main kitchen when he opened the door entering the quiet home. She kept her attention in front of her at the jammed bread she just had prior to Daryl coming home.

“Hey” His voice was softer than normal in case he startled her but she only acknowledge his presence a short moment after he spoke. A bit unphased.

“Hey…did you just get back?”

“Yeah, uhm. The watch is over so…” Daryl brought himself to sit at the kitchen island as Y/N picked up her plate and knife bringing it with her to sit with him. “Carol came by before I drove back. You feeling okay?”

“Uhm…No” Even in the state of mind she was in, she wouldn’t lie to Daryl. Not only would he be one of the few to see right through the lie, but she didn’t have the energy to keep it going if she did. “You hungry? I…made it but I’m not really feeling it anymore”

As the plate was pushed in his direction, Daryl took the knife she had cutting it in half and giving her the other while he ate his.

“Yea made it for yourself. I’ll share it but least have some of it” After he said such, Y/N picked at it at first before deciding to finally eat it.

They sat in silence for a bit and Daryl relaxed when Y/N brought her head to rest on his shoulder but her body tensed. As if she was afraid to do such, like…he’d disappear again. He brought his arm around her shoulders feeling the tension in her shoulder finally relax.

“Let’s turn in, yeah?”

“It’s not too early?”

“Nah, come on” Daryl gave a small smile before getting out of the seat taking her hand into his making their way to the basement.

It wasn’t a basement exactly, just a living quarters underneath the main house.

It was…well exactly how he left it. Looked as if he just moved in and nothing was made for it to look like their home so it brought back the moment.

“Daryl?” Y/N calls out to him as he walked away from the scene of Maggie falling to the earth sobbing while Michonne comforted her even if she sided with her husband.

“Daryl!” She called out following him into the forest watching him stop abruptly making her freeze in her place.

“Do you agree with what he’s done? With Rick’s stupid decision to keep that bastard alive”

“Is this a loaded question for me or a simple…” She quieted herself when Daryl turned toward her with an annoyed expression. He didn’t mean to. “No I don’t agree with what Rick has done”

“Will you hate me for mine?”

“What?”

“I…just need a moment alone. I don’t want you to think that I don’t need you or nothin’. Before this whole fight we were gonna…settle? Be us. Then I got taken. You got attacked. Our home got set ablaze. It’s a lot and…”

“Daryl…just. If I come to you, don’t push me away. I’ll give you what you want but I…”

“If you call, I’ll be there.”

Y/N knew that were true but she got stuck in her own mind from all that happened that she didn’t want to flood what could be going on in Daryl’s. Even if in this very moment, Daryl wanted to know everything going on. Just a word would do.

His partner got into the bed while he got out of the clothes from the day. Y/N already wore sweats as she’s been dressing more comfortably the past month since she hasn’t left the walls. He glances at her through the mirror on their shared dresser seeing her sit comfortable by the pillows but keep a blank gaze.

Once the archer got his boots off, he got comfortable in the bed beside Y/N and before she laid down he opened his arm for her.

“Come here, sunshine” He whispers watching her lay into his side feeling his hand gently rub soothing motions on her back. “I’m not going anywhere” he states pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she shifts to bring herself more into his embrace. “Everything’s okay. You are okay” he whispers to her feeling her tighten her grasp on him.

“Nothings…wrong” Y/N exhales a shaky breath feeling him hold her closer. “I’m fine you know…”

“I do” Daryl replies keeping his hand rubbing circles on her back feeling her head turn into his chest. “You are fine, you are going to be fine”

It happened slowly…the tears that sprung from her eyes as she cried into her partner’s chest feeling him tighten around her in a protective manner pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m never leaving you again”

[zylphiacrowley]

I'm sorry my hands are shaking, I don't normally feel this way...

<previous - next>

[couch-house]

Okay I finally figured out Comet's origin story. Long version under the cut but short version is: knuckles finally got to reunite with the surviving echidnas but they didnt want to leave their homes to live on the floating island, so an alien felt bad for him and gave him a fankid <3

Okay so to recap stc canon: Knuckles has spent his entire time on the floating island believing he is protecting it until his people return. he doesnt remember, but he used to live in the ancient echidna city with Tikal and Pachacamac, but somehow was transported 8000 years into the future (present day). This happens after Tikal briefly brings Sonic back in time to help the echidnas fight off the Drakon empire--fish-shaped aliens that discovered chaos energy (the emeralds were made by the Drakons with the echidnas' sacred emeralds, then the echidnas "stole" them back and the drakons declared war). They succeed in beating them back for this battle, but my headcanon (which ended up being p close to what Kitching supposedly planned out) is that after this battle, the drakons come back and end up wiping the echidnas out--those that arent killed are taken off mobius as prisoners/slaves. At some point, some of them are able to escape and form a sanctuary away from the drakons.

Okay now we gotta talk about the Kaamdaarns. The Kaamdaarns are alternate dimension aliens that appear in 113, 119, and 120. They are peaceful aliens with "highly advanced science" indistinguishable from magic, which they use to disable any weapons on their planet and then also to free Shorty from his cybernik suit.

so the STORY WITH COMET GOES... Kintobor helps Knuckles to identify some kind of beacon signal that appears to be coming from other echidnas. Knuckles and Sonic hop into a spaceship (tekno and porker collab) and through a dimensional portal (tekno and kintobor collab) to find the source. they find a colony of echidnas long-established on a sanctuary planet under the protection of the kaamdaarns. the reunion is pretty bittersweet for knuckles bc like. these are people 8000 years removed from his culture. there are maybe some things still in common but otherwise their lives are completely distinct from how he grew up. and after 8000 years, very few if any of them consider the floating island home more than the place they are now. even those that might be interested in going back with knuckles are wary of the risk of leaving the safety of the kaamdaarn planet and being captured by drakons. and for a bunch of ruins... it's not really worth it

so knuckles has once again lost the whole Purpose of Everything He's Done and ummm well it goes about as well as the first time that happened

so he's hanging on by a Thread but the kaamdaarn that brought him and sonic to the village--her name's haven here she is--

says "you know what will fix that? a child." and see above: her making comet. GREAT idea, i agree. i mean the thought was more like "surely there is a way for you to both stay with your friends AND with other echidnas." but same difference. anyway sonic doesnt know what kind of egg that is.

thanks for listening. here's porker lewis as a reward :)

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WHO’S GONNA KNOW YOU LIKE ME?

bsd, various x reader

what heartbreak feels like with each of them

angst, uses bridges from the tortured poets department

THOUGHT OF CALLIN’ YA, BUT YOU WONT PICK UP…

chuuya knows he’s fucked up. he knows he can’t get back what he let go, that he’s already made his bed. but fuck, it hurts. but he refuses to let you know that because thats who he is. and your left seeing him everywhere- the dresses in the store windows, the puddles of rain on concrete, remnants of him in your shower and on your bed- memories of him embedded in your head and under your skin. marks from his passion left on your collarbone, his fingerprints still all over your heart. he claimed what was his forever and then left. and he knows that.

some nights you think of calling him, but sculpted a brick wall between you and the phone, cementing each brick together with your hurt. little do you know, chuuya thinks of calling you too, but he knows you won’t pick up.

THAT’S THE CLOSEST I’VE COME TO MY HEART EXPLODING…

atsushi simply couldn’t bare the thought of not being good enough for you. so he let things go before his heart could sink with the wreckage. he couldn’t handle anymore hurt after all thats happened- but he doesn’t know that he left that hurt with you instead. the anger, the confusion, the turmoil etches itself in your chest and tears through your ribs when you cry out alone. it wasn’t fair for him to leave the job of detective to you, to pick up the clues of your lost love and attempt to etch together a messy explanation. he said he didn’t want to hurt you. funny.

the biggest thing you’re left wondering is why? why did sweetest, most loving guy leave without a word? why did he do it so fast, so quickly, at the stroke of grace? why did the same hands that once handled your heart so delicately set it on fire and leave it to implode?

I WISH I COULD UN-RECALL HOW WE ALMOST HAD IT ALL…

there was no doubt in your mind that odasaku loved you. he loved you with every fibre of his being. he held you to his chest as close as possible. he laughed with you because only you could pull out the genuine joy and smiles from his soul. he danced with you in the living room to your favourite songs, swaying back in fourth with you barefoot on the ground. he kissed you like his lips were especially crafted to be pressed against you, your lips, your skin and your hands.

it’s all past-tense.

DID YOU SLEEP WITH A GUN UNDERNEATH OUR BED…

tachihara burned down every foundation of trust and security in your being. he was the most loyal and loving person you had ever met, one that promised his whole life and soul to be with you. you knew each other like no other, or so you thought. you learned about his betrayal, not just to you but to everyone. and all of a sudden, everything you knew came crashing down. the memories, the love, the loyalty- you had no idea what it was now. you scrubbed your body in the shower and washed the sheets over and over again- trying to get him off of you. you laid in the bed he once shared with you and wondered if you were just another step in his scheme.

was this planned? did he plan to break your heart? was crushing every single thing you’ve ever loved just another ruse? the only thing you knew was that you loved him.

HOW DARE YOU THINK ITS ROMANTIC LEAVING ME SAFE AND STRANDED…

kunikida wanted everything to stick to his ideals. he wanted to break your heart as softly and as kindly as he possibly could. he wanted to cushion your fall, to let you down assured. and he did just that. he left you safe, he left with you with a full explanation. he told you that he wanted you to move on without him, to live a bright beautiful life and be as happy as you possibly could. because kunikida knows that thats what you deserve.

but he was supposed to be there. thats all you can think as your stranded on your safe sanctuary that he left you on. he stranded you on an island with all you needed to survive- yet all you could think was the fact that he had actually left. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. you knew why. he explained everything to you. but the tears that rolled down your cheeks explained otherwise.

AND HIRE A PRIEST TO COME AND EXORCISE MY DEMONS…

the worst heartbreak of your entire life belonged to osamu dazai. you can still hear the screams, the cries that went down with the ship from that night. you can still feel his hands on your body, holding you to him while for the first time you saw him cry. you can still hear the shattering of the things you threw at him, telling him to get out but also not wanting him to leave. you remember the smell of him all over you, on your bed, your clothes, but also in your hair and even on your own skin. he haunted this place. his heart was still beating, lungs still breathing but osamu dazai died in your house. he died and his soul now haunts the place day and night, leaving no trace of your space untouched. it was a cruel goodbye.

osamu dazai died screaming. and now you wanted to as well.

I WONT CONFESS THAT I WAITED, BUT I LET THE LAMP BURN…

you held on to the idea that akutagawa would one day be ready for you. that he would set aside his grievances, his turmoil, the hurt in his lungs and the pain in his coat. you waited, and waited, and waited. waited for him to show up at your doorstep and embrace you, love you like you knew he could. you watched as the lamp flickered, as your skin wrinkled, as your hair turned grey and as the night sky watched over you for years. you should gave closed the window, turned out the light and slept. but you waited. you waited and hope that akutagawa would return. that he would one day love you like you loved him.

as you looked out to the stars, you prayed that he’d forgive you as you blew out the candle.

chuuya n. - fortnight

atsushi n. - the tortured poets department (tt)

sakunosuke o. - loml

michizou t. - the smallest man who ever lived

doppo k. - down bad

osamu d. - the black dog

ryunosuke a. - peter

[emilystheories]

How HOFAS set up

Nesta Archeron to be High Queen of Prythian.

A theory.

ACOTAR and CC3 spoilers ahead.

[art by Gabrielle Ragusi]

A connection to Theia.

In HOFAS, we finally learn about Theia; the original High Queen of Prythian.

Interestingly, Queen Theia was depicted as holding and wearing the Dread Trove items — this was a symbol of her rule.

Evidently, this is just like Nesta.

[art by mistilteinnart]

We also witness Theia’s backstory: that she stood next to the Daglan’s throne, serving at their side “for a century.”

This is near identical to the vision Lanthys (a confirmed Daglan member) showed Nesta in ACOSF. That just like Theia, Nesta could serve at the side of the Daglan, and ensure their rule.

Interestingly, Lanthys even refers to Nesta as “Queen of Queens.”

And, just as Queen Theia used the Dread Trove to overthrow the Daglan, so too did Nesta, when she used Ataraxia (part of the “new” Dread Trove) to slay Lanthys.

The parallels between the two are stark.

[art by luverihu]

Gwydion.

In the past, I had theorised that Bryce Quinlan would be High Queen of Prythian; that she was the most eligible to rule, given her Starborn lineage, and her possession of Gwydion — the sword of the High King and Queen.

This was actually canon (or at least heavily implied). Bryce could indeed claim the High Queen title.

But, she didn’t.

Instead, Bryce handed Gwydion to Nesta, citing the importance of Nesta’s tattoo: the eight-pointed star, and the symbol of the Starborn Fae.

Nesta is now the owner of Gwydion; the sword of the High King and High Queen of Prythian.

The royal sword.

Passed on from one queen to the next.

[art by nearixx]

But, that’s not Nesta’s only claim to the throne.

As mentioned previously, in ACOSF, Nesta forged her own blades — a new Dread Trove.

Amren looked at Nesta’s ‘Made’ weapons and declared that if Rhys used them, he could “set himself up as High King.”

That each of these blades, including Ataraxia, is a “kingmaker.”

But the blades don’t belong to Rhys.

They belong to Nesta.

[art by gessueter]

In fact, the 'Made' weapons actively resisted Rhys’s presence.

Which brings us to another hint…

Rhys vs Nesta.

Some argue that Rhys has the greatest claim to High King of Prythian. Given his lineage (and what was revealed in HOFAS), they may be right.

It’s almost as if SJM is setting up both Nesta and Rhys as potential rulers.

A High Queen vs High King.

This is in line with what is said in HOFAS; that a Fae Queen vs a Fae King rivalry is “history repeating itself.”

Perhaps this is why SJM is continuing the rivalry and tension between Nesta and Rhys, despite them making amends towards the end of ACOSF.

[art by book_s150]

This is further exemplified in the HOFAS (Ember and Randall) bonus chapter.

We see Nesta making decisions on her own (to give the Mask to Bryce) without consulting Rhys or anyone else.

We see Nesta declare that she doesn’t answer to Rhys or Feyre.

And Ember watches on as Rhys assesses the “challenge” in Nesta’s expression — that to Rhys, Nesta is a “worthy opponent.”

But, as SJM typically likes to write about women coming into power, I believe Nesta will win the High Queen title at the end of the day.

After all, Nesta has been repeatedly foreshadowed as a queen throughout the entire series. Feyre even refers to Nesta as a “queen without a throne.”

[art by natserpiece]

However, I don’t think Nesta will come into the High Queen position randomly. Instead, two things have to occur:

Something bad needs to happen to the entirety of Prythian (perhaps whatever Koschei has planned…), causing a last-resort need for a queen to unite under.

Or, tensions with the Inner Circle will continue to grow, and Nesta will leave the Night Court.

But, where would Nesta go?

The Dusk Court.

Or, what is otherwise known as the Prison Island.

Which in HOFAS, was explicitly said to be a “royal territory.”

And was regarded as the “sanctuary” of the High Queen.

That is to say, Nesta being both High Lady of Dusk and High Queen isn’t just a pipe dream.

Canonically, it’s suggested to be the same thing.

(Fun possibility #1: perhaps the Dusk Court will be ‘removed’ from Prythian and will gain independence— that way, Nesta will be High Lady and Queen of Dusk, and Rhysand, or someone else, will be King of Prythian).

Thematically, it makes sense.

As we know, the courts of Prythian are thematically organised, and work in tandem with their opposing courts.

Summer and Winter.

Autumn and Spring.

Night and Day.

Which leaves, Dawn and Dusk.

The Dawn Court is associated with healing powers. To further corroborate this, firstlight (in the Crescent City world) has the capacity to heal.

‘First light’ means dawn.

In the Crescent City world, the opposite of ‘firstlight’ is ‘secondlight’ — the power made upon someone’s death.

If the opposite of dawn (firstlight, healing) is dusk (secondlight…?), does this mean that the Dusk Court is associated with death?

It would make sense: dawn signals the start of the day and new beginnings, whereas dusk signals the end.

And whose powers most closely align with death?

Nesta Archeron’s.

The court of the Valkyries, too.

If this theory is true, I have no doubt that the Valkyries will follow Nesta to the Dusk Court as well, setting up their own domain, completely separate to the Illyrians.

This likely explains the pegasus foreshadowing in ACOSF, as the pegasus’s originated from the Dusk Court.

[art by kelly.vieir.a]

I also believe that the Valkyries will expand their ranks, not only recruiting more priestesses, but also:

Merrill: with her “twilight” coloured eyes (twilight is another word for dusk).

Mor: whose family once owned the Dusk Court, long ago (also lending itself to a Mor x Emerie book).

And another important connection: Bryce Quinlan.

With the introduction of “thin places,” HOFAS made clear that Avallen Island and the Prison Island (Dusk Court) are innately connected, despite being worlds apart.

If Bryce is in Avallen, then it makes sense that Nesta is residing on the Prison Island — side by side.

And, as Bryce still has the Horn on her back (coupled with Nesta having the Harp), perhaps their friendship will continue.

(Fun possibility #2: No one is more connected to the pegasus’s than Bryce, and I can’t see her passing up the opportunity to join an all-female, pegasus-led warrior group. Perhaps a cameo is in store…).

[art by paint faery]

In conclusion:

All hail Queen Nesta Archeron.

[art by artinelysian]

[lunajay33]

The Only One🩵

Summary: Y/n is from the forest but when she was a teenager she felt too much pressure and left her tribe and found shelter with the Metkayina where she meets Tonowari, the future chief! What will happen between them?

Pairing: Young Tonorwari x Omitacaya f!reader

•Masterlist•

Im only 17, I'm part of the Omiticayan tribe but I felt so much pressure from my parents to be more and better, I tried everyday to impress them but nothing was ever good enough, so that's why I have to leave

I heard word of a group of Navi that lived by the water, it will be a long travel there but this is something I need to do for me, I just pray Eywa is by my side on this decision

I never had many friends here other than Neytiri, she walked with me to the cliffs where my Ikran was waiting

"I will see you again one day sister, I know Eywa will see of it" she said pulling me into a hug

"Until then I will remember the memories we have shared" I said smiling

I got onto my Ikran and flew off, I looked back at Neytiri and waved as she watched me leave

It hurt to go I knew it would but I felt like there was another life out there waiting for me and I just had to go

After many long hours of flying, through terrible weather and the hot sun, I finally made it to the islands of the Metkayina

I landed on the beach and many clan members started to circle, looking at me with curiosity, I didn't know what to do that's when I saw a tall man and woman walk to the front, they were dressed in what I assume is their version of clan leader clothing

"What brings you here young one?" The man asked

"I came looking for sanctuary" I said nervously

"Why are you alone?" The woman next to him asked

"I wasn't really welcomed by my tribe, I heard of people living by the ocean and that's how I got here" that's when I saw a younger boy around my age come and stand next to the chief

He was beautiful, he wasn't blue like me none of them were they were more green and blue like the water

"Father let her stay, I can teach her our ways so she can help out" the boy said

"Fine, you may stay and my son Tonowari will show you our ways" the man said

"Thank you I am forever indebted" i could feel the weight and stress lift off my chest

The boy I now know as Tonowari made his was towards me with a welcoming smile

"Come I will show you your new home"

"And this is your own Marui pod, it's a bit smaller than the others but that's because it's only you staying here" he said as he showed me my new home

It was very different from my home back in the forest but I could make it work, I had to

"It's cute, I can work with this" i said smiling

"I'm Tonowari by the way" he said leaning against the entrance

"My names y/n, it's nice to meet you Tonowari"

He made me feel butterflies, it made me feel a bit more comfortable here

"Come on I'll show you around the island" he said walking away and I quickly caught up to him

We walked along the beach and he showed me the fishing nets and the members making some kind of tool they use when hunting out at sea

Then we settled on the shore as the sun was setting

"So does anyone from your tribe know you left?" He asked

"Only one, she was my friend, she was the only one who understood how I was feeling, I hope to see her again one day" I said feeling sad about leaving Neytiri

"If Eywa is with you then you will see her again" he said smiling at me

"But I understand how you feel, the pressure to be perfect, my parents are the leaders so one day I'm going to have to take over the role, ever since I was born I've been shown the ropes but it's a lot to take sometimes" he confessed

I felt bad for upsetting him, I placed my hand in his shoulder and he looked up at me

"Even though we just met you can come to me anytime if you are feeling like this" I said hoping to making him feel better

"Thank you, you are very kind"

We sat there for a moment just looking at eachother until he broke the silence

"We should probably get back, I have to help my father prepare some things, I'll come by to get you for our final meal of the day" he said walking me back to my pod

I unpacked the little valuable I had and tidied up my little pod, that ended quickly so for the rest of the day I just sat on the edge on the pod watching the sun set and the clan do their daily chores

Finally I saw Tonowari approaching my pod, he walked out of the water, it trickled down his toned body and it was hard to take my eyes off of him

"Are you ready for the last meal?" He asked as he was now in front of me, breaking my gaze on him

"Oh umm ya let's go!" I said trying to act like I wasn't just ogling him

He led me down the beach further away from the homes where there was fire torches circling the people and a bunch of food spread in the middle

"Wow this is amazing!" I said smiling

"Did you not have this back in the forest?" He asked as we stepped over others to get to his spot

"We did but I was rarely allowed to eat with the tribe, my parents would bring me food to our part of the tree we lived in but only after I trained"

"That's not right, that's not how you treat your children, I'm very sorry you had to live like that" he said as we sat down by his parents

"Thank you Tonowari" I smiled at him as he grabbed some food and put it in front of me

"What is this?"

"It's a type of fish, they come in plenty and are very tasty, try some" he said as he pulled his apart and ate it in pieces

I was wary but I mimicked his actions and tried it, it was surprisingly good, we didn't have this back in the forest mostly just bugs and forest creatures

"How is it?" He asked

"I like it! Not the usual food I'm accustomed too but it's not too bad!"

For the rest of the evening we sat around eating and I got to know some of the tribe memebers they were extremely welcoming to me, it made me feel safe

Slowly everyone started to clean up and go back to their homes and the torches were dying down

"Awe is it already time to go?" I asked a bit upset

"Yes sadly but......let me show you something before we turn in" he said as he took my hand and brought me further into the island where trees surrounded us

"Where are we going?"

"It's a place I like to go when I'm feeling down, not many of us know about it so keep it a secret darling" he smiled back at me

I didn't know what to say, he made me too flustered to speak

We finally made it to a mouth of a cave, I was confused until he brought me inside, as the light from the night sky beamed in, it lit up the cave, there was some glowing plants and a little pool of water, it was beautiful

"This place is wonderful, I'm glad I came here"

"I'm glad you came too" I heard him say from behind me then I felt his hands gently rest on my hips

I turned in his grasp so I was looking up at him

"You are one of us now y/n, I know you've only been here one day but I know you'll grow to become a strong member of our clan and I'll be there to help you every step of the way"

How is it that after only one day he's made me feel more welcome and loved than my whole life

I woke up in my pod, feeling the warm sun on my skin, I stretched as I sat up

I put on my breast covering and loincloth for the day and made sure my hair was all in place

I looked out from my pod down to the beach seeing everyone doing their daily routines, that's when I saw Tonowari talking to some of his friends

I ran down to the beach and made my way towards him

"Good morning Tonowari!" I smiled as he turned around

Once he saw me a huge smile spread on his pretty face

"Well good morning angel!" He said making me blush as he leaned down to look at me

"We'll see you later Tonowari don't have too much fun" his friends said who I totally forgot were there

"So are you going to train me today?" I asked trying to shake off my gushing feelings

"Of course, today I going to teach you to swim better and to ride an Ilu but first.....you need to change"

"What? But I don't have any change of clothes" I said nervously

"Come with me, those clothes aren't going to work I'm the water" he said as he put his big hand on my lower back and walked me towards some older woman

They seemed to be weaving and making clothing

"Would you be able to make y/n here some more suitable clothing for this lifestyle, we would very much appreciate it" he said politely

"Of course Tonowari, come we will measure you and see if any of our clothes will fit you" one of the woman said as she grabbed my hand and started to bring me back into their hut

"Wait.....Tonowari can you come with me" I asked not feeling comfortable going with the woman alone

He gave me a kind smile

"Of course"

The woman brought me to a room full of fabrics and shells from the sea

Tonowari sat in the corner as I was placed in the middle of the room, the woman took out a few pieces of rope and wrapped it around my chest and then my waist

"You are very big in the chest, not usual amoungst our woman but I might have something that will fit" she said

My face felt like the sun, I was so embarrassed, I didn't dare look over at Tonowari

She rummaged through a bunch of breast covering till she pulled one out, it was a bunch of seaweed and thread, decorated with sea gems and shells

"Here try it on" She said handing it to me

"Right now, right here"

"Yes, no need to hide everything its natural" she said

"Ummm okay"

I turned my back to Tonowari and changed my top, but I could feel his eyes burning into my back

Once I got the new one on it fit perfectly

"Well what do you think?" I asked Tonowari as I turned around to him, seeing he had his legs crossed and his hand covering his lap

"It's pretty, it suits you" he said but I could hear his voice crack making me smile

"Okay now put on this loincloth and you'll be good to go" she said as she gave me the cloth and left the room

I looked at it confused, there was many strings and I didn't really know how I was suppose to put it on and Tonowari noticed

He came and stood in front of me taking the loincloth

"Here I'll help you" he smiled gently making me get the confidence I needed to take of my cloth I was now wearing

He got down on his knees in front of me and I could see he was trying really hard not to look at my area

"Step into the leg areas" he said as he put it close to my feet

I put my hands in his shoulders for support and stepped in, he then pulled it up until it was fully on

He held my hips and turned me so my hip was to him, he grabbed my tail and put it through the back of the loincloth then wrapping it around my tail and back around my waist so it was secure

This cloth was more silk and flowing probably good for the water

He stood up with his hands still on my waist

"There it's perfect" his voice was husky, not like his usual lighthearted voice

"Thank you Tonowari, im sorry you had to do that I know it's uncomfortable"

"I didn't mind, it's not like it was something I didn't want to see" he smirked

"Now come on it's time to train"

I was left shocked and wanting more

Part.2

[lilacs-echoing]

no bc like. post island au where the boys experience permadirt. post island au where they have to shave their hair from matting. post island au where no amount of showering makes them feel clean.

post island au where the boys are significantly smaller and have strange stature compared to their peers. post island au where all the boys can think of is eat, eat, consume, make up for lost time.

post island au where nobody really talks about what happened.. post island au where the funerals are close casket. post island au where they can't even attend eachothers funerals, kissing dandelions before they blow them, hoping the wind reaches the island where only ashes blow. sending dandelions with a thousand flurries of "im sorry."

post island au survivors guilt. post island au where the boys know more about themselves than anyone else ever will. post island au where they are haunted by the knowledge of what they are capable of. post island au where everyone lives in the shell of a powerless little boy who once tasted total control. post island au where nobody feels like anything but an animal amongst society.

post island au where the war on the island dwarfs in comparison to the one outside. post island au where the boys know they already experienced where the war would go. post island au where the home they'd been yearning for is replaced by a war zone. post island au where sanctuary is gone. sanctuary was the island. and they blew it.

traumatizing dreadful angsty post island au.