#based lucemond

[lemonhemlock]

So then, maybe a weird ask, how would you write or explore Lucemond?

So, a couple of months ago, I accidentally stumbled upon this lucemond fic that completely rearranged my chakras. Thing is I tried to find it recently but couldn't, so perhaps the author deleted it, which is such a pity because it was truly spectacular. I don't remember a whole lot bc it was late at night when I read it (thinking I would come back to it later), but it was very much surreal poetry body horror. I am not a gore girly at all, but the language was mesmerising. I happen to have sent my bf a few snippets for shock value (also not a gore enjoyer), so I can share the little of it I saved:

The tender jelly of Lucerys’ eye bursts like a ripe grape between teeth, climbing, sheer white, up Aemond’s blade, as if it were dripping wax.

Its viscous liquidity leaving no gruesome trophy or good-luck charm to pickle in vinegar and make a gift of, Aemond decides to lick the mucoid fluid from the metal and impel it through his own flesh. When he puts the blade to his tongue no taste but that of his own blood stains the quivering muscle.

If the author of this fic happens upon this post, I'd just want to let you know your talent with words was very appreciated. 🙏

Returning to the topic, I would definitely keep this element and lean into the horror aspect. I'd keep some background jace/luke as vibes, with aegond on the opposing side to make it as spicy and convoluted as possible. (It took me ages to remember I have a jaceluke tag since I hid it so well from team black I ended up hiding it from myself, too. Updated my tags list with this occasion lest we forget!)

Readers of my blog will know by now that I sometimes go on rants about The Magnus Archives, but, bear with me, I think we could borrow some elements to make lucemond really extra fucky. So, within the TMA universe, there are several entities that govern different sets of fears and the one I like the most and the one I think fits really well here is The Beholding - so lots of eye imagery, the fear of being perceived, of secrets being revealed, of forbidden/awful knowledge, of knowledge that would destroy you, of being exposed or shamed or judged. The problem I have with Luke (which permeates a lot into lucemond fics) is that he's so fucking boring and milquetoast & doesn't really react / isn't affected enough by the events surrounding him, so much so that it kind of turns him borderline sociopathic, just in the most boring way possible. So let's give him some internal conflict!

I would give Luke a serious case of scopophobia, basically turn him into the perfect victim for the Beholding. Make him realise deep down that he's a bastard and how much danger he's in because of his mother's lies and gaslighting. Make him terrified of becoming Lord of Driftmark, like actively paranoid some Velaryon cousin is going to slash his throat in his sleep or something (maybe even Rhaena??) Have that intensify after Vaemond's execution, because now the blacks have already spilled first blood in his name. Have him feel increasingly isolated from his family because they feel like he's exaggerating and don't really grasp the gravity of the situation - in addition to more gentle gaslighting done by Rhaenyra, who thinks this is the proper way to assuage his fears (even ridiculous stuff like how he shares blood with Borros Baratheon via Rhaenys), and more violent type of suppression by Jace, who absolutely does not want to hear about how they're bastards and everybody knows about it. So the fear of being perceived, of his "secrets" being revealed, only worse, because they're already out in the open, so what he really fears is shame and judgment, which could come at any minute. Any person could at any time start pointing out what an obvious bastard he is and the entire foundation of his life would start cracking.

This intense fear of judgment would be where lucemond comes into play. Aemond as a person he actively harmed, an act that he did his best to sweep under the rug, absolutely horrified to face him, because that would mean facing his actual crimes; the punishment/retribution for that would have to be immense and he's not in a proper headspace to handle that. When he finally sees Aemond again, fighting fit and ready to go, all those feelings of inadequacy would come crashing down. Aemond casting his single eye of furious judgment on Luke, painfully aware of each and every one of Luke's flaws and planning his wrathful comeuppance!

In TMA, I really enjoyed the statements where The Eye would terrorize their victim* because I personally found it hilarious, so I think I'd try to recreate that dynamic a bit between Aemond and Luke. Whether it veers into body horror and violence or remains at the promise of violence and psychological torment, I think there's a lot to explore in a funky, novel way that doesn't involve this unearned Romeo and Juliet binomial.

If you're really intent on turning this sexual, I think an under-discussed aspect of the eye-gouging is how Luke essentially gave Aemond a huge disadvantage when it comes to participating in traditional masculinity, something that we know Aemond cares a lot about - being a model Targaryen prince, having the depth perception necessary to ride his dragon, his martial prowess, even him being suitably attractive to the opposite sex. It wouldn't be outrageous to presume all of these new issues halted Aemond's sexual and social development and that it would make him feel Some Kind of Vengeful Way about it that would maybe manifest itself not in a very socially-appropriate way. Like, mayhaps, wanting Luke to undergo similar pains? ☠

For Aemond's side, I stumbled on this tik tok once that really encapsulates the kind of vibes I think would be really fun to play with. A corruption arc, being consumed by vengeance, allowing yourself to give into your worst impulses, contemplating the nature of justice etc.

For the aegond bit mentioned above, I really like this idea. Luke pondering which is worse: facing Aemond directly or being decimated by his big brother, who he himself once looked up to.

___________________________________________________________

*Here is an example if anyone is interested in the vibe I'm going for. I bookmarked the clip for when the statement begins, because the rest of the episode is filled with the metaplot: MAG 193 A Stern Look,

Some quotes from the transcripts!

He recognises those eyes. He’s seen them all his life, watching him, judging him, cutting through him so no part of him was secret or safe. They peel away the armour, his carefree smile and practiced shrugs. 

His mind races. He can’t tell the truth, obviously. Elias can’t look this man in the face, and tell him that he is what scares him. That his eyes, the curiosity and judgement that pulses out of them, they terrify him in a way he can’t put into words. He feels that prickly panic building in the back of his skull, that worry that spills through: he knows. 

A cough from over the desk breaks his train of thought. His interviewer is staring at him, and all at once he’s back with himself, burning with embarrassment. Those eyes stare, impassive and stern as ever, but… is that a twinkle of satisfaction? As though he has been given him an answer he likes.

He stops. Those eyes. They know. They can see right through all his bullshit, right to the core of him. They know what he really thinks.

[patolemus]

Alright so I am really into the Lucerys putting Aemond in his place agenda right now (blame five stages of grief for that one it’s been consuming me) and I can’t help but think that he would constantly remind Aemond that despite being a prince, he does not behave like someone of their House.

Like, Aemond and his siblings look the part. They all ride dragons, they all have the Targaryen look. But that is the thing. They just look like Targaryens.

Because it is not to the Gods of Old Valyria they pray to. It is not black and red they wear. It is not High Valyrian the lenguaje they feel most comfortable speaking.

Alicent’s children may bear the dragon’s name, but they are more Hightower than they could ever be Targaryen, and Lucerys does not hesitate before saying so.

“You speak of my parentage, but I at least know and honor the traditions of my House. The only thing that makes you different from the common folk is your tainted dragon blood.”

It drives Aemond mad with rage — because a part of himself can’t help but think that Lucerys is right.

[coleoffduty]

lucemond fic coming out at the end of july.

title; brutus.

[greeksorceress]

my friends: *talking about their stuff*

me: *arriving fashionably late with a six shots coffee, bags under my eyes and hairs sticking out of my braid* listen, aemond loved lucerys so much-

[artemis-red-hotd]

Lucemond Well Met AU

sfw, threadfic cross-posted from Twitter. I recommend reading the original format at the link below, because the og Twitter post contains music link + an image. But if you hate twitter, I copied it below. Based on the romance novel "Well Met" by Jen DeLuca

Aemond & Luke volunteer at a Renaissance Fair with Rhaena & Helaena. Aemond RPs as a knight, Luke RPs as a lord. They need to interact for the story line, to their dismay. Somehow, their character interactions keep coming off as flirty 🤔

Lucerys had been trying to avoid Aemond since the eye incident a decade ago. Awkward family dinners were inevitable from time to time, with Aemond glaring holes into him. Rhaena had been excited to play the role of a noble Lady at this year's fair.

However, the guy meant to play her Lord cousin bailed. She begged Lucerys to join her so the storyline could continue as is, and he begrudgingly accepted after being reminded about how much they had enjoyed improv club back in high school.

Aemond had been dragged into it by his university HEMA(historical european martial arts) club, being one of the top martial artists and jousters of their region, and had caved when first Rhaena, then Helaena, had begged him to join.

“It will be fun! Aegon will be there too!”

Aemond wasn’t thrilled, but he was passionate about people having an accurate idea of HEMA, so he agreed.

When Aemond and Lucerys saw eachother in the briefing, they pointedly ignored eachother, except when Aemond glared at Luke the entire time. And when Luke nervously checked if Aemond was still glaring at him. He was. Always.

The first day, Aemond is donning a full suit of armor, ready to take part in a tourney for the fair attendees to enjoy. It is also a vital kicking off point to their story lines. Aemond goes up to where Rhaena & Luke are seated.

“Lady Tides! I would be honored to be granted your favor!” calls out Aemond into the stands. His eye is fixed on Luke, who squirms under his glare, even as Rhaena bestows her favor upon his jousting lance. Everyone claps politely. Including Luke, though he cannot help rolling his eyes.

“Oh, you have something to add?” says Aemond sharply, pointing his lance at Luke’s chest. Some people in the audience gasp. Aemond smirks. “My Lord Strong.”

“Tides!” hisses Rhaena under her breath. After a decade of attitude, Luke has had it.

Luke stands up, snatches Rhaena’s favor off the lance and crumbles it in his fist. The gasps get louder. Rhaena shoots Lucerys a horrified look.

“You know what, I don’t think you deserve my cousin’s favour, dear Knight Tower. She can do better.”

Aemond face is alight with fury now, part anger, part mortification. Lucerys doesn’t know where he was going with this.

“Who deserves her favor then?” says Aemond. “Yourself? A bastard?”

Someone in the stands gasps in shock.

“Wow,” says Rhaena, putting her head into her hands.

Luke is fuming now too.

“Is this how you speak to your /liege Lord/, ser Tower?” he calls out, ignoring the dozens of eyes fixed on him in rapt attention now. “I could have you flogged!”

“As if you’re even Strong enough to make a dent in me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Luke is smirking now, until Rhaena elbows him so hard he nearly falls off the stands. “Ow!”

Luke suddenly remembers where he is and shoots Rhaena an apologetic glance.

“Well… I can only hope your opponent lays you on your back for me,” he says quickly.

Someone in the stand hoots. Luke isn’t sure why. Aemond looks puzzled too.

“The favor!” hisses Rhaena. Luke looks down at the flower wreath in his fist. It has been mangled beyond recognition. In a moment of improvisation, Luke quickly grabs his own favor (meant for one of the visitors, but alas) and throws it around Aemond’s lance.

“For bad luck, Ser Tower.” he says, meeting Aemond’s glare with his own.

The crowd claps as Aemond turns back towards the field where his opponent is waiting, confused but rolling with it. Luke sits back down and avoids Rhaena’s exasperated glare.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. He got under my skin,” says Luke quietly, watching the match.

Annoyingly, Aemond wins, meaning Lucerys has to bestow his prizes upon him, when it should have been Rhaena. Aemond isn’t thrilled about it either, as it will involve him kneeling in front of Luke to receive honors.

Aemond does get a gasp when he removes his helmet though, revealing his sapphire eye for all to see. Luke silently begs him to keep his cool, not wanting a repeat of earlier. But.

“Behold,” Aemond throws his helmet to the ground. “This bastard lord… was the one to take my eye.”

“Aemond!” grits Luke, ignoring the gasps of delight from the crowd. “Shut up!”

Aemond finally takes the knee, smirking gleefully up at Luke’s red face. Luke wracks his brains.

“A sword fighting accident!” he calls out, holding his hands out apologetically.

“I am the only one to have ever bested Ser Tower here. A great feat, you must all know, after seeing his skills today.”

Aemond’s face is red in anger again, but Luke quickly places the flat of his blade on his shoulder to keep him from rising up and proving Luke very wrong.

Luke loudly bestows upon Aemond the honors he needs to proceed in his story line. Aemond keeps quiet, but his eye promises a certain revenge. When Luke is done, the crowd disperses, sensing the end of the scene.

“So much better than last year,” Luke catches someone whispering.

Rhaena drags them both into the staff room inside of a tavern, fuming the entire way.

“Boys! People paid to come here!” she hisses, but is interrupted when the tavern bard tumbles into the staff room.

“Oh my god!” says Aegon. “That was so good guys. So fucking hot. Everyone loved it, I could tell.”

“What?” asks Aemond.

“Brother! Didn’t know you had it in you!” Aegon claps him on the back, making his armor clang loudly. To Luke, he says. “Great improve!”

Luke shrugs, shooting Aemond an angry but confused look.

“Thanks man,” he says, uncertain. “Aemond here couldn’t keep his shit together.”

“Wow, still in character I see. Ser Tower and Lord Tides really have chemistry.”

Aegon claps Luke on the back too, then drags him into the tavern for some mead while Aemond changes. Luke sits in the corner of the room furthest away from Aemond, fielding small moments of interaction with the other fair goers. Mostly complimenting his performance earlier.

Luke had worked the dialogue to ensure the weekend’s plot could stay on track after Aemond’s impulsiveness, so he gladly takes the praise, grumbling into his beer. Helaena joins him, after Rhaena commandeered Aegon to vent. She is dressed as a tavern wench, and plays the part.

Luke expects to be told off by the fair organizer, but he only gives him a thumbs up when Luke sidles up to him to apologize. He can only pray that the next day, Aemond will keep it together.

He does not.

Rhaena follows the script, and gets kidnapped by a Dark Knight, and is whisked off. Luke goes around recruiting fair goers on a quest to rescue her, and they need to find Ser Tower to go pull some heroics. Aemond rolls up on his horse. Dismounts.

Luke found the story line a bit cliché , but who was he to deny the audience a little romance. The crowd gathered around them seem happy enough with the events at least. One person even gets bold enough to come speak to Luke, to his delight.

“Aren’t you upset, Lord Strong? That Ser Tower will leave you for Lady Tides?”

“Yes,” says Luke, rolling with it. His character does not want this marriage to happen. “Devastated. Alas, he is the only one who can rescue Lady Tides from the clutches of the Dark Knight.”

The crowd aawwws, and Luke pulls a sad face to match their energy. But on the inside, he is panicking. He is losing the thread of what the crowd is doing, and he looks over at Aemond pleadingly. Aemond smirks, making Luke’s stomach sink.

“Am I? I thought you were stronger than me?”

Luke looks at him with a broken expression. Aemond rolls his eye, but keeps pushing on.

“How about we duel? For the privilege of Lady Tide’s hand? Since you seem to be so reluctant to see me wed to her,” says Aemond, to Luke’s horror.

“No!” gasps the crowd.

“Ew, aren’t the Tides cousins?” says someone.

“No!” echoes Luke. “No dueling!”

“You owe me a debt, boy,” says Aemond, swishing his sword. Impressively, Luke admits to himself. Aemond huffs. “You are a spoiled little Lord. A craven.”

“I cannot fight you,” says Lucerys, grasping at the strings of the conversation with the desperation of a drowning man. “I-Uh... Swore an oath to Lady Tides. That I would never harm you.”

“Should have sworn that to me ten years ago,” says Aemond, pointing at his face.

Luke winces, but the crowd is hooked, hanging onto their every word.

“Whatever debt we have unsettled, Ser Tower… We must put aside for Lady Tides. Your future bride. My dear cousin.”

Someone in the crowd gasps.

“No! You can’t let him go!” calls out someone else.

Luke dramatically clasps his hand over his heart.

“Alas, we must all go. We must rescue Lady Tides,” he calls out into the crowds, making sure to project his voice.

Except, Aemond is not cooperating.

“I don’t give a shit about the Dark Knight!” shouted his uncle, drawing the crowd back to him. Eye rapt in sadistic glee at seeing Luke squirm in mortification. “I only care about this. What we have between us.”

“Aemond! Ser Tower,” Luke grasps his arm and squeezes hard.

“Please… just… We need to go on this mission ok!” he hisses. “Lady Tides needs us!”

“Lady Tides can wait. My Lord Strong, what are you afraid of? Hm?” says Aemond, looking ready to squash Luke’s head in with his shield.

“Jesus Christ!” mutters someone, sounding delighted.

At least the audience was having fun, thinks Luke pathetically to himself.

Suddenly, another horse canters up to them. Upon it is seated Helaena, donning a suit of armour, looking cheery.

“Oh, the it’s Lena the tavern wench!”

“The bard told me to go save and marry Lady Tides,” she says, sounding her usual dreamy self. “Ser Tower is released from his vows by the King himself, he is now free to marry whomever his heart chooses.”

The crowd cheers. Luke cheers along, confused.

He is so fired. He isn’t getting paid much, but he’s definitely fired. Aemond claps along, grumbling, a bit red in the face as his sister glares pointedly at him.

“Alright, let’s go save Lady Tides! Follow me!” sings out Helaena, leading the crowd away.

A young woman dressed in a red kirtle approaches them. She wipes a tear from her eyes.

“That was beautiful,” she says in a wet voice. Aemond and Luke exchange a confused look. “This meant a lot to me. We deserve a happy ending.”

“The King is good,” says Lucerys, not knowing what else to say. Aemond smiles cheerily down at him. “Um… It’s important to follow your heart. Even in the most trying times.”

The woman gives him and Aemond a hug and chases after Helaena, a big smile on her face.

Luke and Aemond watch her go, the silence stretching out significantly.

“I think our characters are gay,” says Luke finally. Aemond lets out a short laugh.

“You think it’s going to save you?” says Aemond, brandishing his sword again. Luke groans.

“Please no. I’m so tired.”

But Aemond does not relent, and Luke runs off, hoping the armor slows his uncle down. It does, only marginally.

Helaena defeats the Dark Knight to the delight of the fair attendees, and whisks Lady Tides off to have their union blessed by the Septon.

The ceremony is almost interrupted when Luke dives under the stage, trying to escape Aemond. Aemond dives in after him, dragging him out by the foot. The Septon, the fair organizer, pulls them apart, looking white with fury in the face.

“A double wedding then!” growls the man, pushing Luke and Aemond on stage to the cheering of the crowd.

“Wait, no!” says Luke.

“Well, come on Lord Tides, pay your debt,” says Aemond, shoving Luke a bit too hard, a vicious smirk on his face.

They play along until the end of the ceremony, where they are told to improvise vows, to both of their chagrin. Aemond looks a lot less gleeful when they are commanded to seal the wedding with a kiss.

But the crowd is cheering, so they can only lean forward and press their lips together. They furiously avoid eye contact when they pull apart.

This weekend had not gone according to plan, thinks Luke to himself.

Next time, he was going to ask to be a Knight, so he can defend himself. Or perhaps a shopkeeper, so he could accuse Aemond of theft and get the fair goers to drag him away.

It’s an unnecessary thought, however. Rhaena never asks either of them to bail her out ever again. ~ Fin

[parkkrys]

Alright so! New fic posted! Also starring Aemond's undercut that I asked how people felt about last night. Got a good response so I added it here.

Based off that Tumblr post I posted a long time ago.

You can find the link here

Let me know what you think?

[ultrasunn]

every once in a blue moon the fandom comes up with a new genderbent!luke fic to obsess over i hate yall actually

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (Could be lucemond, where Daemon long prepared for the betrayal of the greens and urged his children to make alliances of their own, and Lucerys' anger has reached his endpoint)

Lucerys is pissed. He is angered, he is tired, his sorrow for the loss of his sister and the rage he felt for her undue death was what made him storm through the Baratheon home. He already knew his uncle was there. He saw the decaying dragon before he even got to land.

He knew him being there wouldn't do anything. His grandmother already told him how different Borros was to his father, but he had to at least pretend to try, for his mother. So there he was, dripping wet from the storm, hate and anger in his eyes, but a smooth, calm face, as to not give the people more reasons to look down on him. He deigned to smile at the girls, they were his kin, after all, and someone who he had been sending letters to ever since they all met, a secret from Borros, lest he tries to force one of his girls to marry him. They, in turn, smiled back.

He didn't bother looking at his uncle Aemond, barely acknowledged his jibe. He knew being ignored would piss him off more than any answer he would ever give, and that was more than enough of an incentive to pretend he was nothing more than passing wind from the storm, loud enough to howl, but something easily ignorable. He simply came to deliver the letter. He already knows that man wouldn't budge, had already planned to marry one of his girls to Aemond, or whoever the greens were willing to sacrifice. To him, Borros was already a traitor and an oathbreaker, and him being there was just a farce.

When the obvious refusal from Borros came, coupled with a few insults that made Lucerys momentarily enjoy a vision of just ordering Arrax to enter the hall and fry him before his courtiers, he nodded, and told him he would take his message to the queen, before turning around, his head held high. He nodded once more to the girls, and they knew. It was time to accelerate the plan. Borros is to die as soon as Aemond leaves. He will drink his ale, swallow his meat. The story would be that he saw the ghost of his father, angered by Borros for making him, making his house, bear the name oathbreaker, before forcefully taking his son's soul, leaving behind his frightened body as a warning. That way, it would be seen as a horrible omen, Aemond would only find out once he reached King's Landing, and would be too late to return.

In reality, Floris is to drop a special little medicine in her father's drink, one made by Alys, that causes people to have frightful illusions based on things they have been thinking about. Eventually, they becomes so stressed from fright, they started trying to get away from whatever apparitions their mind created, and finally, die from their heart giving out. He has already made sure the main thing on that man's mind would be his father's vow to his mother, from the letter. If things go as planned, (and he ensured it will, seeing as he gave a stronger mix to Floris) the eldest, Cassandra, is to be the new lady Baratheon in his place, and he knows she would support them. The greens would call them traitors, oathbreakers, but then again, Cassandra can claim she was undoing her father's oathbreaking by following her grandfather's vows, so his soul can rest at last. They can call for foul play, but could they when the man dies right in front of all his men, loyal or otherwise, watching him run from someone who isn't there, watching him scream for his father to not hurt him, before succumbing to his death, as if Lord Boremund snatched his soul from his body to ensure he never breaks another oath?

He wonders if any powerful house would try to side with the greens with the threat of their previous heads coming to haunt them to their death for oathbreaking. He thinks not, as the people of Westeros seems to hold great importance to the words of those long dead. If they do, well.... he has already made quite a lot of connections. It wouldn't be hard to ensure someone's predecessor would visit them to give a "stern warning".

Before he could leave the place and lead poor, wet Arrax out of the Storms, Aemond decided to order him to wait, to claim an apparent "debt". Lucerys was just going to ignore him, but his anger filled him. They were already stealing his mother's throne, and their own inheritances, simply because their mother wasn't a man. They have already taken their mother's chance to say goodbye to their grandfather, not even allowing her to burn his pyre. They have already killed his sister, who they didn't even allow to breathe. If there was anyone here that had the right to demand for someone to pay a debt, it was him, his family. Not Aemond.

And he will get revenge. Just not now. But he will not allow Aemond the chance to call him a coward. Instead of facing Aemond, he looked back to the soon-to-be-deceased Lord Borros.

"My Lord, I know it isn't my place to tell you how to run your house, but I do strongly suggest you close your windows and doors."

There was confusion in the crowd, even Aemond looked momentarily confused at his statement.

"The howling of this storm is quite strange. The wind just now sounded like it was trying to say something."

With the people realizing what he was implying, and his uncle's face going red, (with embarrasement or anger, who knows, who even cares?) he walked away calmly as the guards prevented Aemond from chasing him, his screams for his eye ignored once more. Lucerys, after all, has more pressing matters to attend. He is to fly to a cave one of the girls secretly found. There he would wait out the storm, wait out the shocking death of Borros, before "flying back" to Storm's End due to a "premonition" of sorts, and return home with the the Baratheon alliance in his pocket.

------------

Plotholes? Yes. Why? Because tired, can't think much, school sucking the life out of me.

[childotkw]

Oh my God you like lucemond. My favorite writer likes my new obsession. The best tomarry/Harrymort writer I know likes lucemond.

When can we expect the fics? (Pretty please?)

Nnggghhhh fine. I'm thinking of calling it ruination because it's ✨dramatic✨

(Also, anons, you flatter me - let me repay your love by feeding our budding obsession)

It's essentially a 'Lucerys survives the fall and keeps his memories' story. The piece of Arrax's body that he was attached to took the brunt of the damage, and he washed up on a small rocky, uninhabited island, miraculously alive.

--- -- --- -- ---

Lucerys woke on the shore of an islet.

Cold water lapped at his legs, a teasing threat, and his body ached down to his bones. Each breath brought with it a fresh wave of agony, his ribs rattling in his bruised chest.

But none of that could eclipse the yawning, cavernous, echoing sense of loss ringing like a death knell in his heart.

Arrax.

His eyes burned with sea salt and sand and fresh tears. A sob caught in his throat, iron pooling in his mouth as his new reality etched itself into his soul.

His dragon, his life-long companion, his friend - gone. Snatched. Taken.

...

Eventually, Lucerys managed to pull his battered body further up the shoreline until he collapsed, trembling, at the base of the dark rock outcrop that seemed to dominate the tiny island. As he dragged his weakened legs close, leaving red imprints from his blood-soaked clothes, his dark eyes finally scanned his surroundings.

And what he saw made the sorrow the flooded him feel but a drop compared to the rage that seared its way through his blood.

He hadn't washed up alone.

Chunks of flesh - soft pink muscles and pearlescent white skin - were scattered up and down the small inlet.

The sight hollowed out what remained of his lucidity.

--- -- --- -- ---

It'd explore what the violent and sudden loss of his bond with Arrax would do to him.

For days Lucerys would be trapped on this islet in Shipbreaker Bay. The waters would be too harsh for him to dare to swim (not that that meant much with the distance between him and the mainland), and his only source of water would be the collection of rainwater that pooled in some hollows in the rocks.

He'd manage to create a small fire from some sun-dried wood that washed up, but when the hunger kicked in and the shaking got too much for him to try to hunt fish - he'd have one thing to eat.

The idea would disgust him, horrify him - a desecration and a last betrayal towards his friend. But hunger's a hard foe to battle, and another part of him would think that even now Arrax was looking after him, protecting him from starvation.

This would be the catalyst, because two days later is when Cannibal came for him.

--- -- --- -- ---

Arrax had been light and warm, their bond crackling merrily like a campfire. Inviting. Mischievous. Young.

Cannibal reminded Lucerys of the jagged mess surrounding the Iron Throne. Cold steel and dangerous. Steeped in a history he would never experience, that he could only see the end result of.

He loomed large in the edges of Lucerys' senses, still as wild and threatening as he had been when he came for him that day.

Their bond was nothing like his and Arrax's. There was no love there, no affection - only a keen possessiveness and the rumbling, storm-like understanding that they were the same.

Cannibals. Cutting their teeth on the flesh of other dragons.

--- -- --- -- ---

Cannibal would fly Lucerys back to Dragonstone - their return a mix of terror and jubilation.

Jubilation, because the son they feared dead had come back to them.

Terror, because not all of him returned on the back of the largest, most infamous wild dragon.

A light in Lucerys had gone out, the last dregs of his innocence died in Vhagar's jaws, and it would be obvious to everyone that looked at him.

He would be sharper, darker and more aggressive as his bond with Cannibal settled and their ferocity fed on each other's; and he would be aflame with the need to avenge his first, gentler dragon.

Rhaenyra would be concerned, dreading what these changes meant; but Daemon would be the one to turn the endless rage into a weapon.

--- -- --- -- ---

Daemon's hand curled around the base of his neck, the weight familiar and firm and warm. Lucerys allowed his step-father to tilt his head, a thumb pressing against the hinge of his jaw, and he met those purple eyes without fear.

"Alright?" the man asked, whisper soft and painfully gentle despite the violence evident in the lines of his face.

Lucerys paused, blinking heavily, and exhaled with bitter honesty. "No," he answered.

Daemon smiled at him, a small quirk of his lips filled with fatherly fondness. "You will be," he promised, tugging Lucerys in until his forehead rested against the man's chest.

--- -- --- -- ---

Eventually, news would break that Lucerys survived and now rode Cannibal.

And Aemond, who no longer had kinslayer hanging over his head, the word whispered at his back like a dagger sinking into his soft flank, would be torn between relief, guilt and the same niggling want that had dogged his steps every day for the last ten years.

[roguesdelight]

i need new lucemond fics based on the new hotd teaser release so badly

[lemonhemlock]

this is the only context in which lucemond works ☠️

[patolemus]

“You dare speak to me like that?”

“I dare,” Lucerys eyes hold a fierceness born out of hatred and resentment. “Because I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon, son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I am Heir to Driftmark and the Driftwood Throne, and future Lord of the Tides. You’d be best remembering that.”

“You presume a lot of those titles, nephew,” Aemond sounds condescending, even when Lucerys scoffs in disbelief.

“And who else shall inherit Driftmark when my Grandsire passes away? You?” Lucerys laughs at the mere thought of it. It is a cruel thing. “You may know how court in King’s Landing works qȳbor, but you have no idea of what it takes to rule over the Tides,” Aemond sneers at him, and Lucerys allows himself a smile made completely of teeth. “You have not been trained to take over the seas, and you have not been accepted by the Velaryon fleet either. I, on the other hand, have been trained since I was five name days to take over Driftmark one day, and the fleets have acknowledged me as their next Commander,” he says confidently, for he knows his words to be true. “No matter what you and your Green Council may want, the truth is Driftmark would be mine no matter who sits the Iron Throne, because there is simply no one else who could possibly handle it.”

Another little snippet of five stages of grief because I am a slut for Lucerys putting Aemond in his place

[coleoffduty]

i haven’t done wip wednesday in a while… all i can say is the bottomond fic is burrowing into me real good

[corviids]

What would have happened in MD if the twins had been born with dark hair? I feel like so much of their marriage and trust was built on the fact that they had successful looking children in the eyes of Aemond and Alicent esp (bc she still had such a large influence on him during those early years), so would they never have progressed to the stage they’re at now if Aenys and Saera looked like Luke? I really wouldn’t put it past Alicent to try and convince Aemond they’re bastards and if Aemond did even entertain the idea even for a second in Luke’s vicinity, I truly believe it would have broken something in Luke while being at that fragile and lonely point in his life, ESP due to the cold and harsh way he was treated on their wedding night (which I lowkey think is the saddest moment for Luke in the entire fic)

hmmmm interesting premise. i think it’d def make life harder for luke solely based on the fact that that year at the red keep would be miserable if alicent was not receptive to the kids. they largely get left alone in the fic because they are so obviously aemond’s that alicent can pretend they are just his and ignore luke. but if they looked like luke, alicent would likely be distant with them and the rumors of bastardy that she’d poisoned court with just regarding the velaryon boys would extend to luke’s kids. if they looked like luke, there wouldn’t be too much of a basis to question their paternity but that wouldn’t stop people just being cruel.

i think aemond’s insecurities towards fatherhood would also be further exacerbated because he has people in his ear but i also don’t see him cold to the kids, just even more distant. he’s got people talking poorly about his own kids and saying things that he himself has said about luke and his siblings. lucemond’s marriage would just not improve in the same way. luke adores his kids and would be super on edge to protect them from court gossip while growing bitter towards aemond for not protecting them. aemond would be more insecure because his mother/brother/grandfather and there’s also some political issues that could arise from many sides by accusing his kids of being bastards (even if it’s baseless). basically, it’d be a “gets a lot worse before it gets better”

[shortnotsweet]

Back with the Lucemond Bridgerton agenda. Sketch wip based on Kate & Anthony’s dance scene but We Could Form An Attachment from season 1 because that song slaps, gets my heart skippin beats n shit. Can you tell I’m going through my contemporary regency romance phase like is it obvious

[daenystheedreamer]

I think I’ve sent you an ask about lucemond before but I think it’s funny how now that their fandom has died down a good majority have migrated to being drarry shippers

Rlly funny as the mauraders part of the fandom hates them and I like observing mauraders fandom and lcmds like my little ants in a jar so it’s like my ants r fightiiingggg <3

yo drarry? i was soooo sure they'd convert to jegulus omg... thank you for the update i love researching fandom trends. also love observing marauders its extremely funny its the best case study of fanon ever i think. totally from whole cloth, bends to trends, changed over the years as fandom attitudes change. so funny. u can judge them based on how they deal with peter pettigrew its great (i truly believe that if fandom didnt hate fat people jeter would have beat out jegulus. but no its twink ukes all the way down!)

once the funeral is over ill be very happy to never have to see the word taoba ever again. god or their bunny luke or mermaid luke stuff. mermaid AUs are always SO horny in the weirdest way.... or having to see gifs of aemond misinterpreted. u guys do NOT understand him thats what offends me most. i HATE seeing his actions interpreted under the gaze of "he lusts for luke" like NO he has an inferiority complex and isnt over getting bullied or getting owned by a fortnite kid. god. worse than the daddy dom!aemond x reader stuff.... u will never understand his LAYERS!