#it’s all very wild and also very fascinating to me

[iamnmbr3]

I love your meta but it's gotten to the point for me that when I read fics and Harry says something like "He's a disgusting Death Eater" I'm like- Nope, not in character. Harry? No. 1 Draco Malfoy apologist Harry? Unrealistic, I can't.

Thank you so much! That's really nice of you to say! And lol saaaaame. I mean don't get me wrong. I love some bitter 'both-these-characters-have-literally-tried-to-kill-each-other' enemies to lovers but that's not drarry (as their dynamic is portrayed in canon). And I think that's fascinating because they should hate each other a lot more than they do but they just can never bring themselves to. I just find it so striking how little real violence there is between them despite their very intense rivalry evolving into them literally being soldiers on opposite sides of a war. And how they just can't bring themselves to really truly hurt each other the way you'd expect and how they both always risk everything to save each other even when they should have no reason to.

Personally I think that's more interesting than them just disliking and distrusting each other. Because yes there is rivalry and bad blood and hostility but there's so much more than that and that fascinating push and pull is what makes their interactions so interesting to me.

I mean, canonically by the end of book 6 Harry has shifted into full-on worrying about Draco. And he keeps worrying about him all through book 7. (Not to mention saving his life and being saved in return by Draco at the Manor). This is wild. Draco is a Death Eater. Draco let other Death Eaters into the school. Draco almost got Katie and Ron - 2 friends of Harry's - killed. Draco is indirectly responsible for Bill's face getting ripped off. He also seemingly contributed to Dumbledore's apparent murder by disarming him and leaving him vulnerable.

But Harry doesn't hate him. He understands that Draco has changed his mind and doesn't want to be doing what he's doing anymore and has realized the folly of the side he's chosen (but tragically too late). He pities him. He worries about him. He doesn't despise or blame him. He even apparently conceals Dracos's crimes from magical law enforcement and blames everything on Snape.

Given this, I always personally find it a bit jarring when canon compliant fics have Harry go too overboard with the whole "omg he was a Death Eater" angle because it doesn't fit with his actions in canon. I mean after he walks in on Draco crying in book 6 and saying some hugely incriminating things Harry's reaction is to completely back off - simply because his investigation is putting Draco in danger. Even though Draco is pretty clearly a potential danger to others. And by the end of book 6 he's even more sympathetic to him after seeing Draco's change of heart. In book 7 he's viscerally horrified by seeing Draco forced to torture Rowle and the thing that motivates him to block out his connection to Voldemort for the first time is not wanting to see Draco tortured after the escape from the Manor. And he thinks about him quite frequently. And he even puts not only his own life at risk to save him, but also the lives of his friends (who he values far more than he values himself).

Given all this, while I certainly think Harry wouldn't immediately be best friends with Draco or forget about all the bad things he and his family did, I don't think he'd be over the top hating him like I see in some fics where Harry is outraged Draco didn't go to Azkaban or enraged by his mere presence at Hogwarts for 8th year or stuff like that, given he wasn't that bothered by Draco in 6th or 7th year when he had a lot more reason to be. That level of hostility and mistrust just doesn't feel like it fits to me.

Of course everyone is free to interpret and write the characters how they like. These are just my personal views and preferences. (And to be fair I also find it a bit jarring when Harry starts talking like he's been on tumblr reading drarry metas in defense of Draco so it's definitely a balance).

[jentlemahae]

if yyj leaves sm is fucked actually

[tinygameroom]

I just got the Wounded Wild and I. Am inconsolable. I'm so fucking sorry love of my life I'm so sorry!! Fuck!!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

hypothetical struggle between Christianity and paganism in bbc merlin? 👀 one that's very neurodivergent? 👀 do tell

Okay, so Athurian times take place in the early dark ages. Which was probably a weird time for religion in Britain. Because the Roman occupation had just come to an end, leaving behind the structure of catholicism at least with those in positions of power. But religious beliefs were still in the process of blending together with the local practices and other religions, leading to some odd gnostic beliefs. Obviously, bbc merlin doesn't talk about Christianity within Camelot but I think we can assume the catholic church would have a position at the round table. Presumably, Arthur would grow up instructed in catholic belief, go to mass, and have bishops or whatever advising him. He would rule by Devine right, sanctioned by the pope and magic would be characterized as demonic. And that somehow raises the stakes for me, imaging magical merlin within the walls of a very catholic Camelot.

I just have this image of merlin in the back of a cathedral as Arthur attends mass. Kneeling in this beautiful building, head bowed low as the congregation sings praise to a foreign God in a foreign tongue. A God that would apparently have merlin tied to a stake and burned alive. And merlin choking out his empty prayers, echoing in the verbal praise under the isolation of his nonbelief and magical association. Full of fear and venom.

The hypothetical struggle I imagine is one of catholic enforcement pushed by Arthur's religious advisors and Arthur's morality. Because Arthur is a good person and slaughtering a people on the basis religion is insane. So, what does it mean for Arthur if he stops listening to his advisors and starts accepting magic? He has to contend with a spiritual struggle, not just the secular issues presented in the show. And I would looooooove to watch that. The bending of Arthur's beliefs into something more flexible and less rigidly Christian according to the church of the time

[toytulini]

boston rush hour traffic really has u experiencing such a range of human manners. i was looking judgementally at the lack of distance between the bumpers of 2 cars, the driver doing the tailgating noticed me looking, and gestured to me asking if i needed/wanted to get over, implying he'd let me over if i did, but i said no, and he gave me a thumbs up. and continued the tailgating

[violexides]

last night i finished my "rewatch" of SDR2 and i do have a lot of thoughts specifically when comparing the different strengths and weaknesses of THH and SDR2 however for the sake of time (i have to leave for class soon) one thing i will say is that getting older and a hiatus did not, in fact, make me any less in love with komaeda nagito's character.

[comradevo]

anyway I have a very real hatred for people who are so gender essentialist that they say that transmen have the exact same kind of male privileges and power as cis men. like do you fucking hear yourself. do I need to tap the 'Results showed that both transgender women and men had higher rates of violent victimization than their cisgender counterparts, but there were no differences between transgender men and women.' sign again? like babe you're just a transphobe be real.

[honeyvenommusic]

.

[a-passing-storm]

Also! Sorry, I am in a Rambling Mood! According to the substitute teacher, one of my teachers described me as his most intelligent student, and I'm like... I would be lying if I said that it did not go straight to my head, but I also think it's super weird and fucked up if he did say that, but I also really doubt that he did. I imagine he said something like "they have the highest grade in the class" or "they have shown the most demonstrated interest in the class," (<- still skeptical about that one, because it's subjective), but like... Wild. I want to ask him about it, because it went straight to my head because I'm really curious about what he actually said, but I don't think it's a thing I could Bring Up.

[chronomally]

Me reading a book about American expats in 1920s Paris: Hm this would make a good AU

[contact-guy]

“#I read so many gay Victorian love letters and books to get the tone right lol #Plato‘s symposium reference was THE way to signal you liked men in the late 19th century“ would you mind sharing some of your sources? 👀 I also want to write gay Victorian fanfiction am just naturally curious about the victorians

Omg 1000%, let me cite my sources:

Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteeth Century by Graham Robb - this book is a treasure trove of well researched information. A lot of queer history focuses on men and I really appreciate all the stories about women in this one. It’s 20 years old and by (as far as I can tell) a straight author, so there’s some limitations - a total lack of awareness of bisexuality and trans identity - but I really enjoyed it regardless. There’s also like four pages where he discusses Sherlock Holmes as an iconic gay protagonist that changed my brain.

Fanny and Stella by Neil McKenna - a heavily researched story of two trans femmes in Victorian England, the crossdressing trial that scandalized London, their sisterhood and surrounding community, and the love triangle they were involved in. It’s written in a VERY fun and gossipy way, with a ton of primary sources, and is such a compelling story! This author also wrote a book about Wilde I haven’t read yet.

Gay History and Literature by Ricor Norton - it’s a website, not a book (I can’t find his books except at really high prices!) but it’s an obsessively compiled list of…basically…what it says on the tin. There’s a collection of gay love letters and newspaper clippings that are fascinating to read!

The Portrait of Mr. W. H. by Oscar Wilde, heard of him? This is my favorite Wilde story! It’s about the theory that Shakespeare’s sonnets were written to a young man, and how the desire for proof drives a man to death, and the frustrations and joys of looking for yourself in long-dead writing.

Before Queer Theory: Victorian Aestheticism and the Self by Dustin Friedman - reading this book felt like making my brain lift weights, but it was really interesting - it’s about the Aesthetic movement and how modern queer identity began in the nineteeth century.

Maurice by E. M. Forster (not technically Victorian but close) is a story written in 1913 about gay love (published in 1971 and dedicated to “a happier time” 🥲). It gave me some ideas about how a confession could play out. Plato’s Symposium is used as a pickup line, of course.

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[neptuneiris]

Wild Hearts | (One Shot)

'you, it's always been you'

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 8.6k

next part • main masterlist

this is the new idea that I was talking about hehe🤭

i hope you like it a lot and first of all, i want you to know that there will be part two and nothing else. so enjoy this, dig it and let me know your opinion that is the most excited i am to read❤

enjoy and thank you so much for your support beautiful people!

warnings: angst, sex content, arranged married, minor mentions of cuts and blood, smut but not so elaborate.

The Gods can be cruel.

And for some time they have been cruel, especially to you.

You are a lady, yes, but not of a great house enough to be worth anything really big and significant. All your father can offer the Realm is a few soldiers, horses and you.

You are the only daughter of an arranged marriage trying to find their place among the Court. And when you are born a woman, your duty is to marry a suitable man, please him and give birth to as many children as possible.

That was your purpose in coming to King's Landing after Queen Alicent approved your stay at the Red Keep and you became a lady-in-waiting to the highborn ladys who also remain at Court.

But no one, not even you, could have prevented that those plans would no longer be a priority for you the moment you met Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You knew of the one-eyed prince's reputation, as well as his brutality in combat, his cold behavior and also of his recognition as the rider of the largest dragon in the world. But most of all, you knew that his disinterested and sometimes mean personality... was due to how he lost his eye at such a young age.

But that was what he wanted to show all the people of the Court and its visitors.

After such humiliating years of trying to prove himself while at the same time listening to whispers and rumors about him and the pity he caused people for losing his eye, Aemond had no interest in pleasing the Court, so he was just mean, disinterested and cold.

But with you it was all different.

Perhaps it was being alone for so long that he finally got tired of himself and let you in and see his other side, his true side that very few were privileged to see. After all, you were just a lowborn lady who had lived her whole life with the same duty as him: to please the Realm and fill its needs.

But even he never imagined that you and he would understand each other so well.

The gleam of his violet eye, charged with an unusual intensity and determination, the effect he made you feel when you looked back at him and saw his patch covering his left socket and the way he spoke and behaved with you, triggered a wave of unknown emotions and expectations in you.

Your first casual encounter with the prince began in the library, where you exchanged literary tastes. You revealed your fascination for the history of the Andals, as well as shared with him how interesting you found the stories of his family, the Targaryens.

And he shared with you his admiration for history and philosophy as well.

Your casual encounters with him continued in the library and before long, those encounters extended to walks in the gardens. Those walks became a mostly secret habit, where you not only shared equal opinions about books and history, but where you both got to know each other a little more.

And despite the growing friendship and the bonds that intertwined with every conversation and interaction, the weight of undeniable reality persisted.

However, neither of you stopped.

On some trips he had to make, on every return he would always bring some gift for you, whether it was a piece of jewelry or a new book that you don't have access to, to leave secretly in you chamber. Or he would even surprise you with a rare flower that is not seen in the Crowlands, handing it to you so delicately while you tried to keep the blush on your cheeks from being so obvious.

You too tried to look casual when you went to the training yard just to watch him train discreetly, admiring his skills and in every fight smiling proudly every time he made his opponents surrender to him.

And in the midst of everything and everyone, his violet eye always met yours.

At banquets and celebrations it was also the same. The two of you couldn't engage in conversation as such, at least not alone, so all night long, you could only exchange glances and act like complete strangers.

But in the occasional places where the two of you meet and no one else is around, you can act completely free.

He shared with you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, told you more about the history of his ancestors, even taught you some High Valyrian words, while you, who in comparison to him do not possess anything as great and exciting as he does, share with him your thoughts, dreams and tastes.

You both became friends. You became the friend he didn't know he needed and you definitely didn't expect someone like him, especially him, to enjoy your company so much.

And during those years, you couldn't blame the Gods for falling completely in love with the prince.

That was your total freedom and decision, even though you knew how impossible the situation was and that the two of you could probably never be together.

Your house is not worth enough to allow a union between you and a prince of the Realm. It was also useless to suggest it, because the answer would be no, both from the Queen and from your parents, who would have been totally pleased.

But Aemond is destined for more, you know that. And that more is definitely not you and not even close.

And despite this, you couldn't help but imagine as a fleeting dream the moment when he and you unite and become one. A dream that will never happen in which you finally become his wife and you can call him yours, just as he can also call you his, in body and soul.

But that dream is finally shattered when they announce the official betrothal between him and Lady Floris Baratheon.

It was something that was eventually going to happen, you knew it was going to happen, but still, the news takes you by surprise and your heart breaks into pieces, while everyone around you rejoices at the news and approves.

The days following the betrothal announcement become dark and sad for you. You retreat most of your time in your chamber, not having the mood to go out and face the Court, much less him.

And when you had to face the daylight, your steps became stealthy and sparse, trying to keep your distance as much as possible and avoiding any possible encounter with him or anyone else from the royal family.

Aemond of course realized the distance you took and respected it. Not because he knew exactly what happened, but because he thought you had other important matters that did not allow you to share your time with him.

It wasn't until an audience at the Court where the Queen and the Hand of the King attend to the needs of the people, that Aemond finally caught a glimpse of you. But you didn't return his gaze even for a moment. And it is only then that he tries to understand the reason for your distancing, but your eyes avoid any eye contact with him.

You spend several days living in the same way, until one silent morning, Aemond finds you in the library all alone. He knows this is not your favorite time to read, nor is it his, so to say you are avoiding him is clear at that moment.

He opens one of the doors gently and closes it audibly enough to get your attention. He sees perfectly how your whole body tenses and nerves are reflected in your gaze, as well as discontent.

That especially catches his attention and with more purpose he wanders deeper into the library, watching you completely intently and in search of an explanation, wanting to know what he has done to make his presence before you now uncomfortable and annoying to you.

"My prince," you say politely enough, bowing your head to him, but already wanting to leave.

You certainly did not expect him to appear and now you only try to hide from him as much as you can so that he avoids looking at the disappointment on your face.

"My Lady," he says, still with bewilderment in his gaze, taking a couple of steps towards you, "It is good to finally see you after so many weeks without your presence."

You force a small smile, lowering your gaze.

"It's good to see you too, my prince."

His closeness begins to unsettle you, feeling each step he takes towards you as an echo of emotions you'd rather keep hidden. And this is exactly why you desperately seek a way out, a convincing excuse to get away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, my prince, I must retire," you decide to say without further ado, hoping that it will work, "I wish you a good day."

But you only manage to move two steps forward when he quickly blocks your path.

"Wait."

Instantly you watch him intently and in awe, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast, as he looks at you confused and hopeful.

"You've been... absent lately," he says, his words laden with a mixture of confusion and longing.

You swallow hard, averting your gaze from his for a moment. You don't even want to look him in the eye but that would be rude and not appropriate behavior in front of a prince. So you have no choice.

"Yes," you say in a mumble, trying to find an excuse quickly, "I-I've had to take care of some important matters with my family. Also, my responsibilities at Court have kept me occupied with the ladies and other engagements, which has left me less free time, my prince."

And despite your explanation, really not at all convincing, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

"And will you stop saying that?" he inquires in a low tone and you watch him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

"Exactly that, my title," he points out deliberately, "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. I don't understand what all the formality is about."

You press your lips together, again averting your gaze from him, as you as well as he, feel that tension between the two of you, a tension completely unfamiliar and one you have never felt before in each other's presence.

You had never felt uncomfortable in his presence and you had never wanted to get away from him before.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to offend you," you observe him with a serious expression, "If you'll excuse me, I have to leave now to attend to an engagement."

Again you try to walk past him and head for the library doors, but Aemond prevents it once again, blocking your path and pushing you back with his determined and clearly annoyed gaze.

"You are avoiding me," he sentences, firm with his words, showing his inconformity, surprising you, "Nothing is the same between both of us anymore and your explanations don't justify it," he says, with annoyance in his voice and a determination, "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

He asks, watching you with a restrained fury, mostly to see how you try to escape from him, while you press your lips together, trying not to let your look show your pain, disappointment and resignation.

But his gaze clings to yours with an intensity charged with longing, wanting to know, while the silence is uncomfortable and you feel again that tension between the two of you. Until finally you decide to break the silence to not quite answer her question, still evading it.

"This is inappropriate. We shouldn't be alone."

You say without looking him in the eye and that only increases the anger inside him more, watching you without understanding.

"Why the shyness all of a sudden?"

You bite your lips, feeling the discontent all over your insides as you say your next words.

"You are betrothed. People might think badly of you and me if they see us here alone."

"Oh, please Y/N," he tells you incredulously, annoyed, "You're acting ridiculous."

"Aemond-

"Why this sudden concern for appearances?" he questions, his tone infused with irritation and annoyance, "Everyone knows we're close, we always have been, and now it's inappropriate?" he inquire, not understanding.

You let out a short breath, closing your eyes for a moment, really not wanting this to be any harder than it probably will be.

"You don't understand," you murmur sadly, biting your lips, "You are betrothed now," you observe him with the resistance to cry in your gaze, "Now there are limits we cannot cross. And it would be best if this were no longer to go on," you say with a lump in your throat, "Your gifts and our meetings must stop, for the good of your future marriage and out of respect for your f-future... wife."

The weight of your words are felt in your tone, with sadness invading you as you utter them, as well as the ending of this... friendship.

Again the heavy silence hangs between the two of you, laden with a sadness and helplessness that neither of you can control. And although Aemond doesn't fully understand your reasons for distancing yourself from him, he knows there is something else that he still can't quite figure it out.

"Y/N, if you're upset because I didn't tell you about the plans my mother and grandsire had for me-

"No, no, I assure you it's not that," you hasten to say, hiding your sadness and disappointment, "It would eventually happen, wouldn't it?" you shrug, trying to smile genuinely towards him, but you can't, "You must do your duty and I will too, sooner or later," you say, lowering your gaze.

Aemond is speechless for a moment, watching you and nothing else, still feeling the guilt inside, while you struggle to contain your true emotions and shout to him in that moment that you love him, let him know once and for all, though it won't change anything.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his barely audible voice full of bewilderment and a hint of pain, "Still I didn't want to-

"No, no... it's not your fault," you say again quickly, struggling to keep your composure, "Truly, it's all right. I should leave now."

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a second to look at you in concert with longing and concern.

"Can we please talk about this? I don't want things to end up like this between us."

"Don't worry," you try to smile genuinely at him, but rather a grimace appears on your lips, "I'm sure we can meet in the hallways and talk at the feast."

You tell him in a confident and assured tone, but even you know that won't be true.

"Oh and... hum... congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you say with a lump in your throat and a forced smile on your lips.

To you, the falsity of your congratulations echoes in the air, a subtle echo of disappointment and resignation flooding your heart. Aemond tries to say something with the right words, but you don't give him the time as you finally move forward and no one stops you, each step echoing with the heaviness of what could have been and was not.

But just when you think you've managed to get far enough away, a hand gently lands on your arm, once again stopping you.

"Wait, please."

Aemond's voice sounds full of urgency and longing, making your breath catch for a second. And when you turn to look at him with the clear resignation and sadness in your gaze, his look reveals a mixture of torment and determination, frustration as well.

"I did not wish for this, Y/N," he confesses truthfully, his voice soft and emotionally charged. "It is not my desire to marry Lord Borros' daughter. That is not what I wish for myself."

Your eyes fill with tears as you hear his words, surprise in your gaze. And he stares directly into your eyes with despair, as if his thoughts are trying to be conveyed through his gaze.

And even though you have nothing to say regarding that, he continues with a confession that takes your breath away.

"Y/N..." he whispers, his expression heavy with longing. "If I had a choice, if the decision were mine, I would not hesitate in....

His words hang in the air, causing confusion in you for a moment, but as you watch him closely, his gaze speaks for him.

He watches you with attention, longing and hope, adoringly seeing the way your beautiful purple dress highlights your figure and beauty, with those precious and discreet jewels adorning your neck and fingers... his woman.

He shows you his affection and expresses it simply by observing you that he doesn't need to say anything else aloud. The meaning of her words is dispersed between the two of you, revealing a shared desire and a deep connection.

As you, upon understanding, surprise and hope collide within you, leaving you breathless at the implicit, yet clear revelation. Emotions intertwine in a whirlwind of feelings as the weight of his words sink deep within you. Your heart only beats faster, unable to believe what you are hearing, as time seems to have stopped, unable to speak.

And only then there, you can feel joy in knowing that your feelings are reciprocated, but the pain of knowing that it is now too late, simply ruins everything and fills you with pain.

"Why are you saying it until now?" you whisper with your voice broken and your gaze lowered.

"Y/N, please-

You don't let him say anything else, as with a lump in your throat and tears streaming down your cheeks, a sight Aemond doesn't like to see, you turn away from him more quickly and walk out of the library, leaving him alone with the weight of these confessions and unspoken words.

Also with a heart full of regret.

The news of your courtship came weeks after the last time you spoke to Aemond in the library.

You definitely did not expect to hear that at all, as you felt like you had been unexpectedly punched hard in your stomach and a sharp pain settled in your chest as your father spoke complacently about how he received two advantageous offers for the asking of your hand, Lord Ronan Redwyne and Lord Alan Beesbury.

Despite your father's efforts to express the importance and political benefits of such possible unions, to you it was as if the air itself had become heavier and stifling.

Only on this occasion the Gods had been good to you, as both men are the same age as you, so the fear of having to marry a man who multiplies your age and was surely going to be bad to you evaporates.

But still, you feel trapped and obligated.

Of course, your parents are quick to push you to start having conversations with both men to see which of the two is the most suitable for you.

Lord Alan, with his refined presence and gentle smile, known to be a skilled knight, is kind and very gentlemanly. You always see his attempt to make you feel comfortable with his presence, also in the topics of conversation that arise between the two, telling you about his home, his family, some stories and sharing some wishes with you.

You appreciate that, as you can tell he's doing his best, but even so, your mind reels at the thought of him being the possible candidate to take your hand, which adds another layer of complexity to your situation.

The same goes for Lord Ronan.

Despite his kindness, chivalry and the attractiveness of his face, you find no peace in the situation. You don't even care that they are both advantageous for a future marriage, all you want is freedom, to wait a little longer until you heal.

But at least you are being given the choice, a privilege not many women get from their parents when it comes time to marry and simply sell them as a trophy to the first advantageous man.

"It's a beautiful day, don't you think, my Lady?" says Ronan, breaking the silence between the two as you stroll through the Red Keep gardens.

"Yes, it is," you reply with a forced smile, lowering your gaze, keeping your pace slow.

He watches you intently.

"I just want you to know that I am eager to get to know you better, my Lady," he tells you gently and formally, "And any questions you have about me, you can tell me. Also any thoughts you have, I will be pleased to hear them."

You nod politely, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation, unable to help yourself. And though you truly appreciate Ronan's kindness, your heart still yearns for something that now eludes you.

As you continue the walk, you strive to find something in Ronan, anything, just as you do whenever you are in Lord Alan's company, but you always fail. And even though neither of them is a bad man, you know that they too are caught up in choosing a future wife that is not entirely of their choosing.

"I thank you for your kindness, my Lord."

You say in a sincere voice, looking him in the eyes for the first time since you had started the walk,

"And also for your interest. Not many men are interested in the thoughts of women these days."

Ronan places a kind and understanding little smile on his lips, nodding in your direction.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, my Lady. And I know it's only a short time since we've begun to know each other, but I enjoy your company."

You nod again, keeping your gaze straight ahead, unable to help but feel how you still feel overwhelmed by the weight of courtship and the fact that you will soon marry him or Lord Alan.

And at the same time, reality dawns on you with undeniable clarity: Ronan and Alan are good men, but neither is him.

While both may be honorable companions, your heart still yearns for someone you can't have, feeling utterly sad and resigned, because it's not fair, not to the two of them either.

But how can you make those feelings go away fast?

And just when things couldn't be more unexpected for you, as you turn down one of the bush paths along with Ronan, you both find yourselves face to face with Aemond accompanied by Lady Floris at his side, who were walking in the opposite direction.

And the air is enveloped with immediate tension.

You knew that eventually the news of your courtship with two possible candidates to give your hand in marriage would reach Aemond's ears, but when your eyes involuntarily meet his, you see only dissatisfaction and restrained fury.

This triggers a whirlwind of emotions within you, trying to disguise your surprise and discomfort, also nerves, as well as you try to focus on your companion, trying to move on and appear unaffected by this.

"Lady Y/N," Lady Floris greets politely with a smile, breaking the silence, "Lord Ronan," she address him, "How lovely to see you both this morning."

"Lady Floris," you reply, trying to remain calm, then look almost fearfully at Aemond, "Prince Aemond," you tilt your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

"My Lady," he answers you in a soft tone.

Ronan at your side also greets Lady Floris in a respectful manner, then turns to Aemond.

"My prince."

"Lord Ronan," says Aemond, in a dismissive tone, observing you attentively and at the same time in seriousness.

Aemond's tone does not go unnoticed by you, with an intensity on his face that does not go unnoticed either, as you struggle to remain calm in the face of the uncomfortable situation.

It is clear that Ronan's presence at your side does not please him at all.

As Lady Floris at his side, she attempts to carry on a polite conversation, oblivious to the tension that has taken over the moment.

"I would like to offer my best wishes to you both on your courtship," Lady Floris begins to say kindly, "Fortunately the prince and I are in the same place as you and understand what it can be to have expectations high in families if you decide to join your houses."

You feel more the knot in your stomach and the discomfort all over your body, not daring to say anything regarding that, while Aemond remains just as silent as you.

And fortunately Ronan is the one who appreciates Floris' gesture, while Aemond keeps his eye on you with an expressionless but penetrating gaze, also watching Ronan from time to time.

"Thank you, my Lady," Ronan replies courteously, "Your words are most kind and we wish you both well in your future marriage."

"Of course. We hope to see you both at our upcoming wedding," Floris adds with a kind and visibly excited smile, while you again feel your heart give a painful jump.

And since you say nothing, nor does Aemond, Ronan hastens to speak.

"Of course, my Lady. We will see you there."

With pain in your eyes, your gaze involuntarily drifts to Aemond for a brief moment, where he is already watching you. And in that fleeting moment, the looks in both of your eyes convey more than words can express.

With a polite bow, the four of you take your leave and each pair continues on their own way.

You try to focus on your steps along with Ronan's, but the echo of tension and unspoken feelings leave an unpleasant sensation throughout your body. And that's when you hope that soon, both you and he will find peace in your respective futures.

But it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. Neither did acceptance.

Aemond continued the rest of his walk with Floris in the gardens with his mind still focused on the encounter with you and that boy clearly unworthy of you. He didn't even pay attention to what Floris was talking about, he had not the slightest interest and obliged, he had to complete his walk with her contributing very little to the conversation.

Even he himself could not avoid the feeling of suffocation and frustration that invaded him. Seeing Y/N, his Y/N, next to that poor boy, one of his possible candidates to take her hand in marriage, provoked a mixture of indescribable emotions inside him and he made a great effort to keep his composure.

He feels furious and emotionally on the verge of exploding, like a mad man, with impotence filling him with rage.

Why should she marry a man who was not him? Why should he be forced to witness her courtship with another man? Why couldn't he have realized that she also loves him the same way he loves her and reacted sooner?

He felt that he was really going to go crazy, so as soon as he bids farewell to Floris and leaves her in the company of the other ladies of the Court, he heads for the training yard.

Big mistake.

As soon as his presence arrives at this place of the Red Keep, the figure of Lord Ronan pulls him out of his thoughts and draws his full attention.

At least he has the decency to hold a sword.

He thinks to himself, watching as he finds himself engrossed in his own training, accompanied by other knights, practicing his sword moves. He also thinks about focusing on his own training, but finds it a better idea to meet the candidate of his dear friend Y/N, wanting to know what truly awaits her.

After all, Lord Ronan is not the only candidate, Lord Alan also frequents the training yard and will eventually see him as well. So with a determined step, he approaches him.

"Lord Ronan," he says in a cool but controlled tone as he approaches, heading towards the weapons table.

"Prince Aemond," Ronan replies, stopping his training and turning to him, "It is good to see you here as well, my prince."

His gaze assesses Ronan closely, noting his every gesture and movement. And despite the anger still flowing through his veins, he remains calm, not revealing too much of his thoughts.

"I guess you don't train enough at home. House Redwyne is best known for making sweet wine from the grapes that grow on your island," he comments neutrally, watching Ronan's position with meticulous attention.

"Ah... no, my prince," Ronan says politely, "I have had training lessons with the sword, among other weapons, since I was a young boy. So have other members of my family and I assure you we are well trained," he replies, adjusting the position of his sword, "After all, a knight must remain prepared at all times."

"Hm," he says seriously, "And that is what you have accomplished with so many years of training?"

Ronan remains calm in the face of the prince's critical gaze, though Aemond's insinuation resonates with a defiant tone.

"P-pardon me?"

"With those moves is that how you're going to ensure protection for your future wife?" he inquires with a dismissive tone, challenging Ronan with his words.

Tension begins to be felt in the air, the verbal confrontation slipping between the two men. And though Ronan maintains his composure, not wanting his words to affect him, the disdain in the prince's words does not go unnoticed.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my prince," Ronan said calmly, controlling each word to convey determination, "And my duty as protector of my future wife is not limited to combat alone. I suppose there are more important aspects."

Aemond tilts his head, watching him in confusion.

"And what aspects are those, my Lord?" he asks, clearly disinterested.

"Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice," he replied determinedly. "Protection goes beyond sword skills; it involves being willing to give your all for the person you are sworn to protect."

Ronan's words echoed in the air, filling the space between them with a seriousness that could not be ignored. And Aemond, his brow furrowed, lets out a sigh and watches him more seriously than before.

"Do you hear yourself, my lord? Speaking like the ladies of the Court who read and listen to love ballads," he snaps, watching him in disapproval, "Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice are not going to protect your future wife from a life-threatening attack," he says and then turns away, taking his sword and a shield from the table.

Ronan swallows hard.

"You need not worry, my prince. Still I assure you that I am well prepared for combat."

"Oh yeah?" he looks at him expectantly, turning to him with his weapons in hands, "Then prove it."

Ronan looks a little confused.

"My prince-

"Come on," he interrupts him, egging him on with defiance, discontent and agitation in his tone and look, "If you're as skillful as you proclaim, then prove it."

The atmosphere grows more tense, as Aemond waits for Ronan to accept his challenge and prove his worth beyond words. Both men hold each other's gazes firmly, with the tension increasing by the second, but neither takes a step back.

The confrontation becomes tangible. Glares charged with a subtle but unmistakable rivalry. And without further words, the air filled with the anticipation of the physical training ahead, as the two head to the center of the training yard, each preparing in their own way.

Aemond tightens his grip on his sword and without hesitation, lunges towards Ronan with fierce determination, causing the poor knight to have little anticipation to protect himself from his sword, but managing to dodge it and answer him in kind.

At first it appears to be casual training, yet Aemond wants to get a reaction out of him.

And between every clash of swords and every move full of speed and precision, at every failure of Ronan, Aemond taunts and shouts questions and insults at him in a defiant voice while demanding superior performance.

And at every failure and every taunt, Ronan's determination grows, also inevitably to the prince's provocations.

"Is that all you can do!?"

Aemond exclaims arrogantly to him, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to unsettle him.

Ronan growls and focuses on his movements, responding with brutality and force, trying to answer every blow he threw at him, which to Aemond, couldn't be more pathetic and weak movements.

"This is what you plan to defend yourself with? This is what you have learned?" he inquires, mockingly, "What a shame."

Ronan lowers his sword a little, watching him in bewilderment and panting in exhaustion.

"My prince-

He tries to say but Aemond won't let him.

"No," he tells him seriously, "Be a fucking man and fight me back."

Aemond raises his sword again and slams it against his, causing him to lose his balance, while Ronan as best he can defends himself from their attacks, while the combat begins to attract the attention of the other knights and some people of the Court.

And only when Aemond sees that they have just started and he can no longer stand and does not even have more strength in his arms, the confrontation went from a simple duel to a battle without mercy.

And he in a fit of anger and frustration, leads to hit him with his foot in the chest with excessive force, making him gasp in pain and throwing him to the ground, and then walk quickly towards him, with purpose, raising his sword, so Ronan quickly tries to get up, raising his sword, blocking his attack.

Then Aemond's sword dangerously grazes Ronan's shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a blow to his side.

"My prince-

"You yield!?" he exclaims to him in his madness, bringing the point of his sword to his throat.

"Yes! I yield!"

"Just like that!? So easy!?"

"Prince Aemond!"

He hears someone shout in the distance but he focuses entirely on Ronan below him.

"I yield!"

"He's bleeding!"

"My prince!" comes Criston Cole immediately.

And only at that moment does Aemond stop, breathing shakily, his gaze with barely contained fury. And only at that moment he also notices that Ronan has a wound on his shoulder with which he had brushed his sword earlier, not realizing at the time that he had wounded him.

Ronan presses his free hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, watching him in horror and clearly calling for help.

Aemond squeezes his sword again so hard that it marks his white knuckles, watching everyone around him for a moment, then with a hard stare, turning to him again, angling his body so that only he can hear him.

"You are not worthy of her," he whispers in a low voice, his words laden with disdain and resentment.

And without caring about the stares or even her opponent's injury, he leaves the shield on the ground and with his sword in hand heads towards the interior of the Red Keep's castle.

Aemond knew that eventually what happened at the training yard would reach your ears. He also expected a confrontation about it, but he didn't imagine he would face your fury late at night.

His guards are required to stand guard in different hallways, so taking advantage of the fact that there are none in the hallway by his doors, you quickly make your way there to enter his chamber as fast as your body will allow.

He looks up from his book in his lap, sitting near the fireplace, watching you attentively at once, but before he can say anything, you turn to him with your lips pressed together and annoyance in your eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" you inquire in a serious and demanding tone, looking for explanations.

And just like you, Aemond isn't having your attitude either. He's annoyed to see how you haven't taken any time at all to come to the defense of that stupid, poor, defenseless boy.

Putting his book aside, he stands up, imposing his presence on you. Despite having to raise your face to face him directly, you don't let his posture intimidate you.

"I see that that... Ronan matters too much to you, my Lady," he says in a dismissive tone, "It took you no time at all to fall for his sure sweet words and promises of love. After all, you and he are very much alike."

You inhale deeply before responding, seeking calm despite his attitude and the tone of his words.

"Ronan and I are getting to know each other, nothing more. Just as you are getting to know Floris Baratheon. But I'm not doing anything against you, yours is for sure, she's going to be your wife. But you can't go hurting and almost killing the men who can be my future husband."

He looks away from yours for a moment, irritated.

"I don't know what you expected, honestly," he tells you seriously and indifferently, "That's what happens in combat when we fight with weapons, Y/N, men get hurt. And if Ronan is weak and wasn't taught well, that's not my problem."

You stand your ground, incredulous to hear his words.

"That doesn't justify what you did. Everyone witnessed how the combat began and it was you who unfairly exploded against him, hurting him," you reproach him with determination. "His wound was deep. He needed eight stitches!"

Aemond, sick of this, averts his gaze from yours and turns his back on you, heading towards his table to pour himself a glass of wine under your confused and incredulous gaze.

"I don't understand why you're so worried, he'll be fine. After all, you still have another possible candidate for your hand, I hear," he says in a tone devoid of emotion, laden with bitterness, "Though I doubt he's much stronger than Ronan."

His voice sounds harsh, his words laden with a bitter resentment that he can barely hide, jealous.

"So this is how things will be?"

You ask him earnestly and sadly, fighting back tears that threaten to escape at any moment.

"You'll go around hurting my suitors until there are none left and I have no chance of marrying anyone else but not you either?"

Tension hangs in the air as you wait for his response, feeling the weight of your words and the clash of emotions between the two of you.

And he remains silent, staring out the window with a hard stare, as if not looking for an answer through the glass, turning his back to you and not daring to look at you at that moment.

Finally the first tear rolls down your cheek and Aemond listens as you gently sniffle your nose, then turns to you, his face showing a mixture of emotions, from hardness to the flash of regret and longing.

And he lets out a defeated sigh.

"That's not what this is about, Y/N," he murmurs in a softer tone, his expression revealing his inner struggle, "They're not worthy of you. Your father is choosing wrong."

And that's when you explode with anger and frustration, unable to contain yourself any longer.

"I just don't understand why you care so much, Aemond!" you exclaim without understanding, "You shouldn't see them as a threat because they are not. You have nothing to do here!"

You face him, as your tears fall silently, with a defiant look and your posture firm, though full of sadness, anguish and confusion, inside and outside. And he too responds to you in kind.

"Of course I do!" he turns to you angrily, exclaiming in his fury, "This does concern me because those fucking men and your father are going to take you away from me! And they have no right!"

And again your emotions boil over, fury and pain getting the best of you.

"Do you even listen to yourself? How irrational you are being?" you inquire, not understanding, "You didn't even do anything in the beginning, you are the prince, the one who had the power to do something about it and you never even once asked for my hand!" you shout at him, your voice full of reproach, sadness and disappointment.

Furious, Aemond turns around and in a burst of anger, throws his hand towards the table, causing the wine jar and the cups to fall to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sudden sound makes you jump and recoil, startled by the noise and force of the act.

He turns his back and heads for the back of his chair, leaning hard against it as he tries to contain his fury. With her breathing rapid and agitated he struggles to regain his composure, his body tensing and closing his eye tightly.

The air becomes tense and the silence uncomfortable, as Aemond fights against himself and you just allow yourself to cry silently.

When he speaks again, with a tinge of bitterness in his gaze, still not turning to look at you and his voice soft but laden with resignation, still holding back his fury.

"I wanted to," he confesses to you, his vulnerability visible, "But my mother and grandsire would never have approved, you know that."

His statement leaves you speechless, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment that he didn't even try, not once and yet...he has the nerve to do this to you.

You remain silent and the disappointment and bitterness reflect even more on your face as the tears run their course, to finally gather your courage and speak.

"Then... let me go," you whisper, it being more of a painful plea than a command.

Silence expands in the room, marking every second with the heaviness of unresolved emotions. And you, overwhelmed with disappointment and pain, understand that you have nothing more to do here and turn to leave.

You don't even care if one of the guards sees you coming out of his chamber, you don't even care if rumors arise seeing you here late at night and everything gets too complicated, you just need to get out of here soon.

And with tears still running down your cheeks and being completely heartbroken, you grab the doorknob. But just as you are about to turn it, his firm and determined hand lands on your waist and turns you towards him, stopping you.

The action takes you by surprise and you look at him without understanding, he doesn't give you time to say anything either as he places one hand on your cheek and the other keeps it firmly on your waist, bringing his body close to yours.

And still without reacting, he moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your face.

"I can't," he murmurs, his voice cracking with anguish, laden with longing and regret, "I can't," he repeats in a whisper, gently caressing your cheek, "I'm sorry."

And just then, without a thought for anyone else and without a care in the world, his lips trap yours in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Paralyzed, surprise takes you completely and you can only feel how every movement of his lips is a mixture of apology and desire, asking you to kiss him back.

His arms wrap firmly around you, clinging to you as if he's going to lose you at any moment. And unable to resist a second longer, with his soft lips and warm mouth on top of yours, he makes the world fade away around you in that instant and you kiss him back.

You place your arms around his neck and cling to him completely, moving your lips in sync with his, as he presses your body against his and lets out a gasp at the wonderful feeling of having you this way with him.

And you feel as if you are floating, this being exactly what you had dreamed and prayed for so much, wishing and praying to the Gods that this is not also one of your cruel dreams.

But this is real. It is finally happening.

So you allow yourself to lose yourself completely in it, not thinking about the consequences and not caring about anything else, as Aemond walks you around without stopping kissing you for a single moment, until his feet touch the edge of his bed.

"I love you. I love you so much, my sweet girl."

He whispers into your lips, watching you with all that love and desire in his gaze, noticing your swollen and parted lips, watching him back with the same intensity and completely surprised to hear his words.

And without saying anything back, with the actions speaking for themselves, you kiss him again, feeling that urge to cry, but of happiness.

Aemond falls down sitting on the edge of his bed and you take a seat on his lap, placing your knees on either side of his hips, clinging to his neck and kissing him slow, deep, making you feel everything.

"I love you too," you murmur against his lips, watching him with nothing but affection and desire.

He kisses you again desperately, feeling something warm in his chest at your words, holding your waist with one of his hands and the other beginning to lift the edges of your skirt, making his way to touch your bare thigh.

You gasp into his lips, feeling his warm hand and the cool metal of his rings, only to tilt your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, trying to find your sensitive spot to make you shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, lifting his gaze to you.

"A-aemond," you gasp, feeling the hardness beneath you.

You reach up with one of your hands and remove his eye patch, wanting to see everything about him, instantly reflecting the faint light of his blue sapphire, looking so beautiful and dazzling.

You smile softly at the sight of him, then leave a soft kiss on his cheek, beginning to leave a small trail down his face to kiss him on the lips, as his hand on your thigh makes gentle, firm strokes on your skin.

Slowly, he lifts his hand from your waist to the laces of your dress, watching you attentively afterwards and needing first of all your permission. And you help him untie the knots yourself.

Your front of the dress loosens and revealing your white gown underneath, Aemond lifts one of his hands and gently traces your skin between the valley of your breasts, making you shudder and shiver, then stops at the straps, watching you again.

"May I?"

With the blush on your cheeks and the nerves in your lower abdomen, really wanting to do this, you nod.

"Yes."

His hand slowly slides the strap down your shoulder and arm, then exposes your breasts to him, making you feel more nervous, but you feel completely safe to be doing this with him.

Truly everything that happens next, giving him your mainhead and letting his calloused hands explore all over your naked body, is by choice and you think to yourself that if there is one man you would willingly trust with this, it's him.

And just as the tip of his hot, hard, heavy cock makes its way between your walls, he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel comfortable. Instantly blood stains his sheets, but he doesn't care at all.

And when he begins to move inside you, slowly and very carefully, waiting for you to get used to it, he wipes away every tear that escapes your eyes and comforts you with his hands and kisses, making sure that at all times you are well.

"You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight, my love."

And despite his obscene words, his actions are anything but, his movements careful and careful not to hurt you, asking you how you feel.

He kisses you sweetly and caresses your breasts, he makes sure to pleasure you too, as he understands that this is not just about him and the act is not just about fucking, but him making love to you.

He growls into your lips and you gasp as he begins to move with more purpose inside you, feeling the sweat all over your body and forehead, clinging to his shoulders and gently digging your nails into his skin also lightly illuminated by sweat.

"Do you have any idea how long I imagine this?" he whispers against your lips, moving his hips and pounding that sweet spot inside you, making you moan beneath him.

But he quiets your moans with his lips, not wanting anyone out there to hear you, it would be too risky.

"Aemond," you say his name in a moan, biting your lips.

"What's wrong, my sweet girl? Does it hurt?" he says to start moving more gently.

"N-no. It just... feels so good," you manage to say over the sensual movement of his hips that make you see stars behind your eyes.

The act doesn't last long and very soon Aemond makes you reach your highest point, making you experience a sensation you had no idea about all over your body and he also spills all his seed inside you, grunting and moaning from the pleasure as he feels your walls squeezing him deliciously.

And then, both of you sweaty and trying to catch your breath, you embrace and take a moment in his bed.

You feel a tingle between your legs that is more than gratifying and Aemond, for the first time in a long time, feels at peace and completely at ease, especially having you in his arms at this moment.

There was no time for regrets and worries, it was all done. So the two of you dive into that little world where only the two of you exist.

But even though you didn't want to think about it, you think about the future, with uncertainty beginning to invade you, as you inhale Aemond's scent, hiding your face between his neck and chest, embracing him as he encloses you in his arms and gently caresses your bare shoulder with his thumb, listening to his soft breathing above you.

You let out a sigh, close your eyes and wish you could stay like this forever, starting to feel your eyes water and that huge worry in your chest for what you just did.

When Aemond speaks.

"In the morrow I will talk to your father and ask for your hand."

He says in a soft voice and everything in you comes to a complete standstill, listening to him attentively.

"I'm sure he won't be able to resist my proposal. No one will be able to stop us when they know I have claimed your mainhead, not even my mother and grandsire. And then... we will have our Valyrian wedding and there will be no turning back," he murmurs and then places a soft smile on his lips, "You will be mine, as much as you already are now."

You feel him leave a soft kiss in your hair and you smile softly, moving closer towards him, if possible.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, my love," you whisper, grateful.

And finally you can be at peace now.

[deedala]

My submission for the Gallavich Fanart Masquerade 2024

Doing this art was so strange, i tried really hard to go against all my instincts and habits!! It was kind of a fascinating and weird exercise in trying to pick apart all the little things that makes my art look like me...and then *not* do those things. I even tried to draw ian and mickey from an era and with the haircuts that I usually don't go for. this whole artwork is me trying to not do my own artwork, and yet it still came out like me in the end anyway i think. wild how that works!! The title on ao3: You Are Pure Beside Me as a Sleeping Amber, (from Pablo Neruda's Sonnet LXXXI), was another meager attempt at misdirection as i essentially dont know a single thing about poetry. ...and also im usually quite allergic to proper capitalization 🤪 Very interesting experience but super fun!! Thanks @gallavichthings for the event and thanks to everyone who played and commented and kudos'd!! <3

[lure-of-writing]

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister. 

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become. 

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face. 

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.  

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did. 

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes. 

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped. 

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an  assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost. 

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out. 

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.  

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family. 

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day. 

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?”  all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics 

 “Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.”  Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

 “So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

[sixth-light]

the thing that fascinates me about the whole Brandon Sanderson episode 2x08 meltdown is that, look. he is EXTREMELY popular with a certain very specific subset of SFF fan who loves 'Magic A is Magic A' type magic systems where it's really sci-fi in fantasy dressing and part of the fun of the exercise for him and his readers is interrogating it to find all the logical loopholes and cool shit that you can do while still being within the rules of the system and so on. and that's perfectly legit.

but it's also...even though WoT does have aspects of this, in that channeling is a very rules-based magic system compared to e.g. magic in LoTR (which is the classic 'no rules only vibes' high fantasy magic) it also co-exists along magic which is MUCH more vibes-based (whatever Min does, Ogier Treesinging, Wolfbrothers). RJ was also never interested in writing the sort of edge-case rules-lawyering that BS obviously loves; it's pretty clear he wanted channeling to have rules to give himself rails to run on when incorporating it into the plot, not so he could logically deconstruct the thing. (like, how exactly did Mierin Eronaile and Beidomon use the One Power to drill into the Dark One's prison the first time when the Dark One is outside the Pattern? we have no idea because it doesn't matter, it just matters that they did it.) there's also plenty of inconsistencies and weird notes in the earlier books because he hadn't fully settled on how things worked yet - famously, Moiraine's staff.

and none of that matters really, because ultimately the internal logic and ability to be gamed out of your magic system is not a sign of writing quality, it's an artistic choice about how you want to depict magic in your SFF setting and also about what helps you as an author to write an internally coherent story. there's a lot of very good fantasy where the magic is EXTREMELY handwave-y and it's fine because that's not the point of the thing.

so to see that BS apparently seems to think that it IS a sign of writing quality and furthermore that the show is bad if it doesn't meet *his personal standard* of magic system logic, which he is somehow 'qualified' to have because...he likes to write magic systems with lots of rules a lot...is just. wild. sir, you have identified a very specific niche of nerd who will give you lots of money for your very specific books, that's great for you but the world of SFF is much bigger and weirder and cooler than that and that's okay.