#on s2 episode 18

[what-even-is-sleep]

UGHH THE OWL HOUSE IS SO GOOD

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[amnestyliketaz]

not to get all sentimental or anything but season 2 of dndads has like fully been with my thru high school. like the season started in january of my sophomore year, the first real year back since covid, and now it ended around the same time of my senior year. i’m graduating in a few months and it’s just kinda freaky like me and this show that means so much to me are both done/almost done at school at the same time

[mothedmanillustration]

happy father's day to the single dad who's trying his best! here's a bunch of sketches of alakshmi and abyssal together!

[sarucane]

OFMD Spiral Narratives 43: Stede's Fantasies Creating Reality

Intro: What I love most about how season 2 builds on season 1 of OFMD is the spiral narrative structure. Ground is repeatedly and explicitly re-trod from season 1 to season 2, but in season 2 everything goes deeper than season 1. Meanings are shuffled, emotions are stronger and truer, and transformation is showcased above everything. The first season plucks certain notes, then the second season plucks the same ones--but louder, and then it weaves them together to create a symphony.

---

At the beginning of each season of OFMD, Stede is living in a fantasy. In the first season, it's a fantasy of being "the greatest pirate who ever lived." In the second season, it's a fantasy of romance (and a bit of uber-pirate fun). In each season, the fantasy is tempered over time by reality. Stede adapts, changes his expectations, and figures out how to keep moving forward. But a funny thing happens: over time, his fantasy ideas of reality reshape reality around him. It's not the perfect reality he once imagined and projected on the world. By the end of each season, it's a fantasy that has outgrown him, spread from him to others and enriched their lives, and the result is imperfect, hard-earned, and absolutely beautiful.

In season 1, Stede is blissfully unaware of how out of touch with reality his fantasy is. By all signs, he genuinely seems to believe his first "raid" goes well, and that he came off as a "real" pirate while stealing a plant.

And he thinks he's doing a great job as a pirate captain, even though he's totally unaware of what's going on in his crew. They don't remember his crazy shit about "talking it through," and they don't care.

They don't really get what the hell he's trying to do with his "amenities," (Pete demands to know what game he's even playing), and Stede's attempts to overlay his class-shaped fantasies onto reality lead to a "ballroom" and a library full of books the crew can't read. He doesn't think he's living in a fantasy world, but he is.

Stede's fantasy world of Season 2 is spiraled in to become more intense: he's literally in a fantasy when the season opens.

The fantasy starts with the season 1 fantasy: he's a super-pirate, complete with sword skills to match Izzy's, one-liners, vengeance for betrayals, and an earring. Then the older fantasy merges with the more recent fantasy, as references to Ed appear--followed by the man himself.

But this isn't the real Ed: this is a fantasy super-pirate version of Ed (hence the return of his beard, even though Stede last saw him completely clean-shaven). And this is a fantasy version of Ed who isn't mad at all over what Stede did last season. Love conquers all and sunset bearded* beach sex awaits. Fantasy (adolescent) romance.

And then the reality of Stede's situation attempts to suffocate him to death: Ed marrooned his crew and went off to chase madness in Stede's ship (largely as a consequence of what Stede did to him, although Izzy gets a hunk of blame for that one too), so now Stede and the gang are living in squalor.

Just like, in Season 1, Stede was lost in a fantasy that Lucius was inscribing (a literal example of Stede imposing his fantasy on reality, the idea being the this book of shit will be what future generations think of him) so it would eclipse any reality--right up until Buttons intervened with bad news.

In season 1, Stede is able to avoid reality tossing him overboard by imposing a second layer of fantasy over reality, claiming he killed Nigel so the crew will respect him.

In season 2, Stede is also using writing to avoid reality, also presenting a narrative of what's happening around him that only bears the most basic resemblance to reality (like the book Lucius wrote).

But this time, his relationship to the fantasy is more complex: it's his way of trying to cope with how quickly his life spiraled out of control; to cope with the distance between him and Ed right now; to banish the insecurity-birthed fears of his past.

But despite the fact that Stede is still struggling with the mismatch between fantasy and reality, he also demonstrates real growth in the second season.

In season 1, Stede really believed that his fantasy would come to life in front of him, as soon as he arranged it so the conditions would be right.

But in season 2, Stede knows he's creating a fantasy. He knows the fantasy that things are going well is pure copium. And that fantasy is an evolution of his "perfect pirate" fantasy from season 1, the fantasy that meant Stede's dream started with dueling and defeating Izzy, not with reaching Ed. But in season 2, Stede is able to recognize and set aside that fantasy before it takes over his life and gets him killed, like it almost did in season 1.

But the second part of Stede's season 2 fantasy is Ed, and his desperate belief that their romance will survive what's happened since they last met. Stede could have written these letters and then set them aside, to give to Ed when they meet again. Instead, even after acknowledging that the odds of Ed finding the letters are slim, even after acknowledging reality, Stede chooses a fantasy. Chooses to hope, and defies reality to hang onto that hope.

Stede's different relationships with his fantasies foreshadow his resolution this season: his fantasies about being a super-pirate captain will fade, but his romantic dream of Ed will not. And by the end of the year, of course, he'll set aside one in favor of the other.

But in the meantime, as the seasons unfold, Stede's fantasies run up into reality and lose--but not before they get him where he needs to be.

In the first season, Stede hangs onto his fantasy and hangs onto his fantasy and ends up on a Spanish warship, where he's stabbed and almost dies.

But even though riding his fantasy here was insane and misguided, it's changed his life forever--for the better. Because Stede's fantasy of being the Gentleman Pirate had a measurable effect on reality.

If Stede hadn't held onto his fantasies well past knowing "I'm not a pirate, I'm an idiot," if he hadn't imposed one layer of fantasy after another on reality, he never even would have met Ed. The odds were slim, as Stede said, of him and Ed finding each other in the first place--but Stede grabbed reality with both hands, closed his eyes, and hummed, and here they are.

And something similar happens in season 2.

If anyone had asked Ed at this point whether he wanted to see Stede--that Stede wanted to apologize--the answer would probably have been a deafeningly loud "NO." Stede's been wandering around telling anyone who will listen how crazy he is about Ed and how they're "on a break" but it'll all be fine, and if anything the obstacle will be that Ed's doing so well without him that Stede'll disrupt his life. All of this is ridiculously out of sync with reality. But it all got Stede where he needed to be. Stede believed so hard, and so long, that he was in the right place at the right time to make something fantastical really happen.

The structure gets a bit tricky here, because Stede's reckoning with his fantasy in season 1 comes before it works out for him (with Ed's arrival), but comes after it works out for him in Season 2.

In season 2, first off, just as Stede's pirate fantasy led straight to him being stabbed, his romantic fantasy leads right to him being headbutted.

Reality asserts itself, and Stede has to deal. Both times, he starts dealing with some denial.

And both times, his attempt to deny is punched in the face by reality.

In season 1, Stede's development balancing fantasy and reality is fairly straightforward--Stede believes his fantasy long enough to attract Ed, who then helps Stede not get killed by his fantasy. In season 2, Stede sits and talks to Ed and does the relationship work that lets them move forward, embracing real communication instead of romantic fantasies. He works with Izzy and learns how to bring his piracy closer to reality, to respect other people's fantasies (the cursed suit)

But here's the thing: even as Stede adjusts, sets out to become a better pirate (by taking notes, but still, he is trying) and to become a better partner, the seeds of his fantasies have been sown.

The fantasies Stede tried to impose on reality return, and they serve to reshape reality--to save him, and to give hope in darkness to the man he loves.

In season 1, Stede's fantasies of being a bloodthirsty killer and having murdered Chauncy almost get him executed--but they also get him saved. And in season 2, Stede's fantasies and resulting brief reign as a "super-pirate" may be gone, but he's still gained enough skills in pursuit of that fantasy to survive for this:

It's hardly equivalent to defeating Izzy Hands in a duel, but Stede's fantasy followed by his work has gotten him where he wants to be.

And then, in both seasons, Stede's Episode 1 fantasy appears in his Episode 8 reality. His dream of being a different kind of pirate captain is animated by his crew. His fantasy of creating a place where traumatize pirates can grow as people has come true, because other people came to want it as much as he does.

And in Season 2, going deeper as usual, the same music as in Stede's dream plays as Ed and Stede reunite. And when this fantasy becomes reality, it's more complicated than it was in Stede's dreams. But it's shared, and so it goes deeper--and it's all the more true for being earned by two imperfect men who defied the world and their own fears for each other.

And of course Stede knows. After all, his knowing made all of this happen.

[mangora]

On one hand Trevek is canon which is infuriating and terrible because Trevor deserves better and Derek is a nothing character with no likable or sympathetic traits beyond occasionally having funny lines and Emily is literally right there. On the other hand Trevek is canon which is awesome because Noahh’s character had to kiss a man

[arsenicflame]

i was not gonna liveblog any of this but oh my god oh my god holy shit

[idksmtms]

To Love, What A Curse (Aegon II x Little Sister!reader, Unrequited!Aemond x Little Sister!reader)

A/N: It’s taken me a week to get over Aemond’s betrayal but this was written at the height of my pain. 

Summary: (S2 episode 4 spoilers) You watch from a distance as Aemond and Vhagar send your husband and his dragon tumbling to the Earth. You land in the newly created clearing to find Aemond intent on murdering your beloved. 

Word count: 3,880

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap between reader and siblings because I needed it for a part of the plotline but I didn’t specify it, slightly obsessive reader, ig toxic codependency between reader and Aegon, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, believing that a main character has died, Aemond Targaryen slander, (isn’t Aemond himself a warning??), SPOILERS: S2 Ep4, kinda smut? Like I describe the female body from a sexual male gaze, probs typos  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Even as a child, Aemond sometimes believed himself incapable of love. Not in a bad way, he did not feel he lost much without it, simply that he was incapable of it. Alicent, in the rare moment she chose to spend her time with her children, would read a story all about love, and he would find he could not understand it. He simply couldn’t relate. He had warm feelings for Alicent, a certain care for Helaena to be sure, but it was always belied by a certain numbness in his heart. 

And then suddenly… there you were. In his mind you appeared out of the fire. Like a dragon rising out of the ashes it created. In reality, you had been born just as he was reaching maturity, the age when you finally started remembering things for the rest of your lifetime. He had stood outside of Alicent’s birthing chambers, anxiously waiting for her to come out and tell him everything was fine. He could hear her screams, guttural and animalistic. He had only ever heard the dragons make such sounds. And then there was silence, a long moment of silence he would never forget because he knew not whether Alicent was dead, the child dead, everyone dead but him. Then the cry of a child, loud and shrill and rather annoying. 

He had pressed his ear to the door to try and listen, but all he got was cooing and hushing and the clatter of tools and the sloshing of water. It was but ten minutes later he almost fell forward into the room when someone opened the door. Alicent lay on the bed, shining with sweat, her beautiful red hair spread out all over the pillows and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths. A nursemaid on the side beckoned him inside as she gently swayed with a bundle of cloth wrapped in her arms. He wasn’t sure who to go to at first, Alicent or the short chubby woman with red cheeks who smiled warmer than Alicent ever had. He chose the latter, his intense curiosity to see the child surely contained in the bundle of cloth in her arms far outweighing the concern he had once held for Alicent. 

The nurse maid simply handed a young Aemond a little bundle of blankets with your little baby face peeking out of it. He stared at the pinched little face, this wriggling creature that was red all over. He believed that that was the first time in his life he had felt real love. Oh, and when you grasped onto his finger with your little hand, he felt he had been placed in a hot pan to gently heat up from the inside-out. From that moment on he had loved you. He had loved you so dearly that sometimes he snuck into the nursery just to watch you sleep. 

You were small, innocent, like a fresh snowflake fallen into the palm of his hand. You were to be protected at all costs, for the rest of his life. He willingly took up the challenge. Your entire childhood seemed a collection of memories of Aemond. Aemond cheering you on as you called ‘dracarys!’ for the first time. Aemond chasing you around the halls of the red keep when you wanted to play. Aemond distracting you when Alicent couldn’t be bothered to be your mother…  

Though it began as something innocent, something brotherly and sweet, it seemed the Targaryen curse for it to grow out of control. Suddenly a few years passed and you had become a woman. And suddenly he could not keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. One night, some moons after your eighteenth nameday, he had come to your quarters to return a book he had stolen at some point during the day. Not realising that you had had a rather difficult day, that you had wished to bathe in peace, you had sent all your maids away. He had walked in on you rising from your bath. No one had been there to stop him or usher him out, and he had stood there, frozen, watching you jump and try to cover yourself with your hands before grabbing the robe left on one of the tables beside the bathtub. He had dropped his head, his remaining eye shuttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. A short and quick ‘my apologies’ left his mouth and he walked back out. But the image came with him. 

You, shiny and wet, glistening in the light of the fire. The sound of the water dripping off of you and back into the bathtub, little plink plink plink sounds as they hit the edges. Your hair, darkened at the edges and sticking haphazardly to the skin of your shoulders. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. The space between them that was just shadowed enough that he could only see the top where your lips began to separate… He could not sleep for days for fear of encountering the image again behind closed eyes, in the free land of his dreams.  

You were sweet, and kind, a bit of a miracle considering the situation you had been raised in, and it suddenly seemed an unfair expectation for him not to fall in love with you. Had you not been made for him? Crafted by the same womb to be his for eternity? You defied everyone with your kindness devoted to him. You made him smile with your smile, made him dance as you danced. You sang little songs you made up in your head and cuddled into his side so he could read to you in High Valyrian. You seemed just as attached to him as he was to you. You were perfect… except for one thing. What he considered your fatal flaw. Your unending, almost obsessive devotion to Aegon. 

Mayhaps you had had the same effect on Aegon as you had had with him. Maybe it was simply that you had slowly made Aegon partial to you by being that sweet creature that you were. Though he believed anything possible when it came to you, he was never quite sure how you had changed Aegon. If not for everyone, but at least for you. It was obvious to the eyes of those who could view into House Targaryen that Aegon, described by his closest family as a hedonistic wastrel, cared for you, took care of you, hid from you all the deficiencies of his character. No one could make head or tail of it. How did you differ from Helaena or Aemond or even distant Daeron? You, conceived exactly the same way as the others, related to him exactly the same way as the others, were no different to the siblings he already had. But he thought Helaena weird, thought Aemond a rather pathetic and easy target, didn’t think of Daeron at all, and viewed the rest of his life as an excuse to get drunk. Aemond believed it to be your kindness that, if capable of piercing his own stony disposition, could easily curl up around Aegon’s fragile heart and devote him to you.  

In truth, out of all of his siblings, you had simply been the one to truly love Aegon, whether he wanted it or not. You seemed to make up for all the love he lacked from every other person in his life. You saw him as the eldest, the one to look up to, the one to lavish with love and devotion in your position as the youngest. He would be the one to protect you, the one to treat you as his littlest and most loved one. Wishful or not, all the stories told you that this was his position. Though Aemond spent most of his time looking after you, being the protector, you did not seem to hold him in esteem for it. He was simply there. 

At first, Aegon had failed in these expectations of yours. He had not bothered to spend time with you, not bothered to indulge in the love you so freely offered him. He believed you were just another creature created by Alicent to look down upon him. Another person to disappoint with his shortcomings. He later considered those his lowest moments. But then he had seen the way your face fell when he had shooed you away, saw the way tears collected at the corners of your eyes when you offered him a flower and he had barely turned. Slowly, he began to humour you, smiling widely when you offered him the flower once more. Not shooing you away anymore, but simply telling you that he would come find you when he was available to do it. He pressed kisses to your little cheeks and tickled your stomach. And with this care returned, your devotion grew. 

He remembered vividly the first time he had truly noticed not only how much he cared for you, but how much you seemed to care for him in return. He had taken the blame for you once, when Alicent had walked into her living quarters and found a jug of wine spilled all over the floor. You had dropped it in your bid to reach up and grab it, hoping to sip from the jug though you weren’t allowed wine yet. Aegon had claimed it was him, that he was too drunk to see properly (when in fact he had been sober for the first time in a long time). He had been sent to bed without being allowed any dinner, and Alicent had raged at him for twenty minutes about his lack of duty, respect, propriety. But then you had snuck to his room after everyone had gone to bed with two plates filled to the brim with food. He felt he had never eaten better in his entire life. You had sat with him, giggling then shushing yourself as you looked up at him starry eyed. You seemed to give him all the kindness and love you possessed in your body, and he was ready to take. Frankly, he had nowhere else to get it from anyway. 

Maybe some part of you had always believed that you and Aegon were meant for each other, but you truly seemed to realise it the night Aemond read you the Targaryen histories. He had started at the beginning, telling you all about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. You had sat up on his bed, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face him as you listened, enraptured. As Aemond spoke of the love Aegon bestowed upon Rhaenys, you thought of your Aegon. Of course, it all made sense now, you were destined. He was Aegon, and you would be his sister-wife, his Rhaenys, meant to be as it was in the greatest of histories. 

When your dragons mated, your beauty and his Sunfyre, it felt cemented into fate. It would have to be so. The gods had deemed it. When Otto and the council began clamouring for the children to be married, particularly Aegon, Alicent had gone to pray every day in the sept for a fortnight before allowing your betrothal. You secretly believed that she was praying for the gods to intervene somehow but you knew they were the ones that had chosen this. 

When your betrothal was announced, it was the first time neither you nor he had complained about a decision made by Alicent or the council. Alicent had called all of you to her chambers, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and you, to announce it, and neither you nor Aegon had a word to say in dissent. You had simply turned to each other and nodded, little hidden smiles only visible in the dancing of your eyes. Of course neither of you noticed the way Aemond clenched his fists behind his back, or the stony glare he switched between Alicent and Aegon. He had come over, kissed you on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as you hugged him animatedly.  

Aegon had even kissed you for the first time the night of your betrothal ball, hidden in an alcove at the darkest part of the night, hands buried in your hair, tilting your head back and pressing his mouth to yours as if he wanted to devour you starting at the lips. He had whispered ‘I love you’s’ in your ear the entire evening and you danced with no one else. 

Aemond was not sure when you broke his heart the most. When you had gushed to him all evening about your elation at being betrothed to Aegon, when you had seemingly forgotten his existence the night of your betrothal ball, or the evening you announced you were pregnant with Jahaerys and Jahaera. 

People seemed to tread carefully around you after Jahaerys’s death. You believed this to be the reason you found out too late that Aegon had taken off to Rook’s Rest. 

Every day, at some random point in the day, you would seek out Aegon, and the both of you would sit curled up together eating biscuits, drinking wine, and comforting each other. In the aftermath of Jahaerys’s death you had thought that was a necessity lest he try and run from you in his grief. Though he had still bludgeoned the man to death, had still had all the ratcatchers hanged, you were simply happy that he did not hide from you. 

In that spirit, you had gone in search of him, only to find out he had left an hour ago to chase down the battle after conversing with Alicent. You were forced to waste a little more time to change into your riding clothes as your beauty was saddled, though you had abandoned the attempts of your ladies maids trying to pull an extra blouse over your head. You wore only a simple tunic over your chemise and ran for the dragonpit. 

You weren’t quite sure why the gods wanted to punish you so. Your baby, little Jahaerys, was his death not enough? You were late, but not late enough to be spared the vision from a distance of Aemond commanding Vhagar to attack Sunfyre and Aegon. Your heart was in your throat, choking you. Your grip on the reins loosened, and as you watched Sunfyre tumble down from the sky, your dragon shrieked and began flying even faster. You heard the crash, even from how far you were. Your hands were sweaty and cold, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be off the dragon. You began unclipping yourself from the saddle, ready to slip off and plummet to the ground. Your mind was running so fast you couldn’t grasp a thought, only saw what you saw, heard what you heard, and felt what you felt. There were no words. But you stopped yourself, clipped yourself back in, and let yourself be brought ever closer to Aegon in whatever condition you would find him. 

Aemond watched the forest floor burn around Aegon without a single feeling. He watched the embers on Aegon’s body, sizzling away at his hair and skin. He watched the soot gather on Aegon’s armour, watched Sunfyre huff and writhe in pain as the fire continued its relentless assault all over their bodies. He did not feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no sadness. There was no happiness either, no joy or elation. There was simply nothing. 

His sword was in his hand, pulled mostly out of the scabbard, when he heard rustling behind him. He turned slightly, just enough so his remaining eye could gaze on the intruder, and he saw you. At first he blinked, once and then twice to be sure you were there and not a mirage in the heat. But then he saw the way you were looking at him, the creases around your eyes and mouth as you gasped, mouth agape in pain. Your breaths were ragged, and you were still mostly hidden in the brush, but he could see your face so clearly, as if you had been outlined against the shrubbery. The face that he had watched grow out of its baby fat and into the shape of the young woman that you were. The face that had once smiled brightly in his direction and sought him out for comfort. The face that he had loved so dearly. The face that now burned with rage. 

“You-you traitor! You coward! You have no loyalty, no respect!” You sounded almost hysterical as you spoke, clambering over shrubbery and shattered branches. Aemond stared at you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, each word laced with the deepest pain one could possibly experience, a half-sob half-choking sound. Your cheeks were bright red and shiny with sweat, you had shed your riding coat and your grey pants were covered in sap from clambering over a tree trunk. Aemond thought you had never looked more beautiful. “You truly are self-serving, and-and cruel.” Each word hit him in the chest as if Vhagar was breathing fire directly at him. He would not care if it had not been you saying these words. His grip on his sword tightened as he watched you begin to shed tears (though you already had dried tracks down your cheeks), hurrying around and looking for a way through the circle of fire around Aegon and Vhagar. You turned to him for a moment, a singular moment, and his heart stopped dead at the way your face was contorted in pain and anger and pure hatred. Your eyebrows knitted by a crease above your nose bridge, your mouth pulling back at the corners and your eyes burning like wildfire. “You’re a monster.” 

The word seemed to echo in the forest, even above the sound of the fire. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths heaving as he stared at you with a sense of his body crumbling. Not once in the entire battle had he felt this close to devastation. Not once in his life. Even in the darkest nightmares he experienced, not once did he ever imagine you saying these words to him, to look at him so… 

Aemond had not once cared about Aegon’s wellbeing in his entire life. Even now, he did not care about it. If Aegon died he would not shed a tear. In all honesty, he would be more inclined to smile, but watching you walk through fire to get to that manic drunk’s body sent a spear through his heart. Why? Why were you so willing to succumb to your own death for that fool? Why, throughout your entire lives have you always chosen Aegon, when he was standing right here, ready, rather, impatient, to love you? He would have raised his sword and begun walking again, a certain defiance suddenly filling him to the brim, had it not been for the way you began to wail at the sight of Aegon. 

It was a wail of death. He did not think a person was capable of this sound. Around him in the forest, another high keening sound began. It was your dragon, head raised to the sky, mouth open and roaring like the pain was within her. Then, behind him, with the very ground rumbling as she rose, Vhagar raised her head to the sky and roared so loud that legend states it was heard from the Wall to the southernmost tip of Dorne. Even Sunfyre, with his last breaths, keened in pain and joined the cacophony. Aemond pressed his hands to his ears and waited for it to cease. A war was being waged on him, inside and out. 

He closed his eyes, trying to forget you, forget the pain you inflicted on him simply by being in pain, but the gods would not let him. 

You were on the floor now, hands shaking as you reached out to pull Aegon’s half-singed body onto your lap. You were caressing his hair, rocking back and forth and crying salty tears directly onto his wounds. Aemond could not move. However much he wanted to walk toward you, wanted to walk away from you, the gods had set him to his place. You turned your head up to look at him through the fire, shaking and hiccuping. Your eyes were so full with tears that he could only see light reflected in them. 

“What did you hope to get out of this?!” You sobbed, almost screaming with the pain. It was minutes before you could even speak again.“Did you expect I would suddenly love you? Did you think you could buy me with a crown?” 

There it was, finally out in the open. The truth both of you had danced around since you had become of marrying age. You had known, of course you had known, though he had never been overly blatant about it, it was obvious that he had favoured you. The night your betrothal to Aegon had been announced, Aemond had gone to Alicent to beg her to change it, to offer Aegon Helaena's hand instead. But she had been adamant. His grandsire and Viserys had stated that it would be best for Aegon to marry a sister, prattle about emulating Aegon the Conqueror and preserving the purity of the King’s bloodline. It made sense to marry him to the youngest. Helaena could still be used to marry for advantage, a second child but first daughter held more sway. 

He could see that secretly his mother was happy to betroth Aegon to you. She didn’t want her youngest daughter to leave. She was by far more attached to you than any of her other children, and if you hadn’t married Aegon you would’ve been sent off. One marriage between siblings was enough, the rest were simply assets in a bigger game. 

Now, as Aemond looked at you, he could see none of the love you had once bestowed on him. The face he had once longed to caress, the lips he had once wished to kiss, all appalled at the sight of him. You had never sneered at him this way before, never even turned your face or voice to him in a negative way before. Maybe this was a nightmare, and soon he would wake up, sweating and panting and looking around with fright, before seeking you out, happy to discover that you were still unmarried, and ready to cuddle him to sleep.

You clung to Aegon even tighter as you glared at Aemond through your tears, just a blurry black spot in a sea of green. “If I was even capable of loving a creature like you before you did this,” you spat with such venomous rage that even Vhagar bristled behind Aemond. “I am incapable of it now.” You turned your head back down to Aegoon, and seemed to curl your body around him like a dragon curling over her eggs. The edges of your dress caught fire and slowly began to burn but you let it, not even feeling the heat. 

Ser Criston found the three of you like that, as if suspended in time. 

Taglist: @summerposie, @izuoyarmin 

A/n: Tell me. Was Aemond or Reader right about why Alicent didn’t refuse the betrothal between reader and Aegon? 

[ianime0]

TGCF Audio Drama S2 | Episode 18

[nicksolemnlyswears]

hi! i just saw the ask you answered about leaving aemond out and i giggled.

if i may offer an idea, what about if reader finds out where aemond goes to find comfort (the brothel) and is upset because she thought differently of him but maybe he confesses what he actually does there (tittie suckin and therapy) and she offers aemond her own comfort. maybe reader looks more like their mother and it's exactly what aemond wants/needs. he's such a broken boy with horrible mommy issues.

this is not me at all telling you that you NEED to write a fic about this. i just had this idea jumbled around in my head and i don't know how to write it myself. 😂

thank you for your fics. they are truly wonderful. 💜

pairing: aemond targaryen x hightower!reader

word count: ~8.3k

warnings: 18+, cursing, spoilers of s2 of hotd, talks about brothels and prostitutes, fingering, p in v, lactation (milk play? i don't even know what i did), nipple play, slight mommy kink (or a lot depending how you see it), talks of infidelity, slight somno, riding

a/n: it's funny that this ask was sent cause i had something similar in mind. so this came super easily to me. i added some fire to the reader cause after ep 4 of hotd i was so angry at aemond (and still am). i can't believe he did that to aegon (he's my boy of the season) not to mention what he did to queen meleys and queen rhaenys. i'm not sure if i'd be able to forgive him. @heybank i hope this is somewhat like what you had in mind!

it came out a little longer than expect but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy! also aemond is stubborn in this fic but an equally stubborn reader and i love her for it. the reader and aegon are lowkey besties because i only want the best for him lol so don't mind that. i am ecstatic for the next episode and see the fall out of ep 4.

do you know the struggle i had to find aemond's whore's name. omg most difficult part of this oneshot.

after this fic i think i need to go to church and confess. i'm sure the priest will douse me in holy water and make me pray a hundred holy marys or something.

enjoy!!

It slipped out in the midst of their endless teasing and banter. The one secret Aemond never wished for you to find out. You're strong enough to know about the others; you recognize who he truly is at his core: an ambitious, envious man, but this one secret? This one he prayed you never knew about.

Aegon and you had been indulging in the sweet wine imported from High Garden. A delicacy that made your head fuzzy and your body loose. After finding you strolling all alone through the gardens, he insisted on drinking with you. If someone were to appease him by complaining about matters of the council, it would be you.

Those meetings drag on for hours on end on multiple occasions during the day as ravens fly in to share news of the brewing war. It robs you of your husband's attention and robs Aegon of his will to live as they tell him what to do and say, completely ignoring any input he might have—as idiotic as it may be.

You meet your distant cousin midway, complaining about how boring the meetings are and how uptight everyone is, including your husband. You offer the new King honest advice disguised as flippant comments, hoping he'll accept it even if he thinks of it as his own.

"It's not like I'm the only one who indulges in the pleasure of the street of silk. Every nobleman loves to get their cock wet by those whores," Aegon mumbles as a response to being reprimanded for his escapade late last night with his guards.

The charitable King paid for the villager's drinks and entertainment for the night. It was a prosperous night for the brothel. The 'ladies' will do just about anything to get coin. Who says the King doesn't aid his subordinates in need?

You stifle a laugh with the back of your hand and shake your head at him, "Yes, but you're the King now. It's not about laying with a commoner. It's about security. There are people who would do just about anything to gain Rhaenyra's favor, including hurting you, Aegon…"

Reasoning with Aegon is a challenge. His mind spins in ways you will never comprehend, but you try to keep your cousin safe while appeasing the council.

If Aegon values something, it's his life. If he knows there is danger out there, he will hold back, even if it's for a night or two. Her duty as his friend is to keep reminding him of all the danger lurking in the dark corners of the silk street.

"I suppose you're right, dear cousin. Guess we'll have to bring them here," he laughs as he thinks of the pandemonium it will cause. "I'll have Thalia and Margery or perhaps Dorothy. Hell, why limit myself? I'm the King! The guards can have their pick of the lot, Aemond will have his old reliable, and Lord Lannister can have the beautiful Sarah."

Aegon tips his goblet, drinking the last drops of wine to quench his dry mouth, failing to notice his slip-up.

Aemond's name sends a burning chill down your spine, and your mouth turns to cotton as it dries up. As you repeat Aegon's words, your heart promises to break out of your ribcage. Surely, you misunderstood his words.

"Aemond's old reliable?" You laugh to keep Aegon at ease. Grabbing the pitcher of wine to fill both of your cups, urging him to drink more and get his tongue looser. He won't remember your interrogation by morning.

"Ah yes, the first woman he fucked. Thanks to me, might I add. He still loves to visit her. I'd say her tits got him all enamored."

Just like the women in court, Aegon prattles on and on about everything he knows about Aemond and his whore. Including how he found him laying with her just last night—naked as the day he was born, blue sapphire glinting freely under the candlelight.

Blinding hot fury courses through your veins, lighting you up in flames from the inside out. Aegon will assume your reddening face and chest are from the wine and his vulgar words. There is no use in correcting him as you urge him to continue talking.

By night's end, you are equally as drunk as Aegon. The Guards escort you both to your respective chambers, watching amusedly how you argue with Aegon about whose dragon is strongest, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre. In reality, you were plotting which sibling would aid you in yelling dracarys in Aemond's direction.

You wish the alcohol would make you forget, but the sad truth is you will remember every single detail. The pounding headache you'll have in the morning will be a painful reminder of the secrets spilled over red wine.

For a fortnight, you sit and think about the valuable information Aegon shared with you. Anger burns ardently inside of you as it has nowhere to go. As a lady of the court, you're not allowed to train with the men, and as a Hightower, you have no dragon to channel that anger through.

If your fury were to be caused by any other reason, you'd find release in Aemond's arms. His aching cock stroking your drenched walls fervently. His sweaty skin sticking to yours. His fingers digging into your curves to find purchase. The low tone of his voice in your ear whispering words you'd never dare repeat and shamefully make you peak around him.

The thought makes you sick. How many times has he fucked her in such a way? Is it different? Does he let go and fuck her harder as he's not afraid she'll break?

Thinking is your worst enemy. As you imagine every possible scenario, your insecurities rise from their hiding spots. Does he love her? He laid bare with her; he must feel something if he allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable position.

The memory of the first time he took off his eyepatch in your presence pains you. So many conversations and stones of trust had to be set to get to that point, yet he did it with her. A common whore that dares ask for coin to please him with her presence.

You are different from the other ladies of the court who accept their husbands sleeping around with unknown women. You are jealous and territorial, something Aemond knew when you married. Under the eyes of the seven, he swore that his loyalties lay solely with you.

Alas, all men do is lie. Not even the noblest of men can be trusted. All you asked for was a good husband that would not embarrass you. How foolish of you to believe Aemond would be it.

Your fury grows and manifests as you observe Aemond and his whereabouts. It's hard to keep your anger at bay, but he's too busy plotting with Criston Cole to notice your withdrawing nature and emotional distance.

Visiting his quarters nearly every night tells you all you need to know. In that fortnight, you find him missing a multitude of times. There's no doubt he's in the brothel. Where else might he be deep into the night as the world sleeps?

When you ask about his location, the guards hesitate and stumble over their words. They try to save their necks by lying because the Prince continues to slip from their grasp time and time again. They are not as skillful at lying as your husband.

Having had enough, you wait for Aemond's return in his quarters. A goblet of wine is balanced between your fingers. The red liquid swirls along the rounded goblet, mimicking how your anger swirls around you.

You observe the map laid out on the wooden table. His plans are incredibly different from Aegon's. You pity the King as his most trusted advisor and Hand do as they please behind his back.

You've barely drank the wine. The goblet is merely a distraction from your fidgeting hands. You do not need the courage it provides; your anger fuels your intentions.

Old stone rumbles and sets behind you. Turning on your seat, you find Aemond emerging from one of Maegor's tunnels. This is how he sneaks out so damn easily.

"Wife," Aemond greets, keeping his composure, but his tense posture reveals shock. Your husband tends to wear a relaxed stance in your presence. You're the last person he expected to be waiting for him.

"Husband," you reply. The word is bitter on your tongue.

"What brings you in so late? You should be resting," Aemond speaks, taking off his cloak and approaching your seated figure.

Your eyes lazily move up to meet his. "Rest," you chuckle humorlessly. "I haven't been able to find rest in weeks."

"Does something ail you? Should I call a maester?" He asks, giving you a once over. Other than the dark circles around your eyes, there seems to be nothing out of place.

You're still you. Beautiful copper hair that easily identifies you as a Hightower flows down your back, and big brown eyes that resemble his mother's look back at him, although contempt has replaced the unconditional adoration that typically resides there.

His worry sickens you. His existence is an annoyance like a pebble in your shoe. You've harbored this anger for too long, and simple distaste can quickly transform into hate.

"Where were you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He's not going to get out of this. He must face the consequences of his actions. You will not live in bitterness while he runs around doing as he pleases.

"Conducting some business for the King." Aemond tilts his head, observing your posture and the set of your eyebrows. There's an electricity around you that shoots warning signs at him.

"Where. Were. You?"

"I'm afraid it is none of your business," Aemond says with a sharp exhale. He steps away to avoid your glaring gaze, unbuckling his sheath and setting it on one of the many desks that litter his room.

"I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other." The goblet's thud on the table is as loud as your unspoken fury. Wine splashes on the map like blood will spill in battle.

"There are always secrets. I have them. You have them," Aemond answers, leaning back on the desk.

Your hands smooth down the fabric of your dress as you stand. Finding his calculating gaze, you say, "So that's what you call your whore over at the silk street? A secret? I thought her name was Sylvi?"

Aemond freezes, and his muscles tense. You can't possibly know. He's entirely still as if the action would stop time and give him a chance to come up with an explanation, a lie. "I do not know what you speak of," the hesitancy of his voice unveils the cruel truth.

"Spare me the lies, and do not treat me like a naive maiden, Aemond. You know how much I loathe being made a fool," you snap loudly.

Aemond takes three long strides to reach you. Reacting, you take a step back but have nowhere to go. He doesn't touch you, but Aemond towers over you as he glares back. "Who told you? Was it Aegon?" He hisses.

"Please," you scoff. "The maids talk, the guards talk, husband. It was only a matter of time. Did you think I'd never find out? Are you truly that dense, Aemond?"

Your glare is sharp enough to cut him. He fell in love with that look when directed at others, but now that it's looking straight at him, he finds it's the one thing he might hate most.

All people around him have looked at him like that at some point. Aegon. Daemon. Jacaerys. Alicent. All except for his sweet sister and you, his beloved wife.

That look alone makes him regret stepping into the brothel many moons ago.

You should've never found out about Sylvi. It was meant to be a fleeting moment, but the war takes a toll on everyone, including Aemond.

Alicent's disapproving attitude towards him after Lucerys' incident led him to the whore more times than he can count as he sought the comfort Alicent never gave him and he craved.

"What is it that whore gives you that I do not?" You maintain eye contact as your chest presses against his. Your stubbornness will not let you back away from this argument. You deserve an answer.

You thought you were a good wife. Because of you, Aemond has two sons. You provided male heirs, a nobleman's dream. You warmed his bed whenever he asked and even when he didn't. You confided in him. You chose him.

"Talk, damn it. Your scheming plans won't get you out of this one," you yell, slamming your fists on his chest. Picking a fight is the only thing you have left. You want to scream at him until your voice turns raw.

"There is nothing to say. She's a quick fuck; that's all she is," Aemond seamlessly lies, grabbing your thundering fists. His thumb rubs over the back of your hands, hoping the calming gesture will tame your anger.

"A quick fuck? I could've been queen if I tolerated Aegon's quick fucks. The option was right there, and I chose you because I stupidly believed you'd make a better husband," you scream as your cheeks turn an unbelievable shade of red.

"Wife, please," Aemond pleads as you remind him.

The choice to wed you was not his to make. It was entirely yours. Each night, he prayed you'd choose to marry him. A woman of incredible smarts and hypnotizing beauty deserved to be with a man who acknowledged those attributes, not a blundering man like Aegon, who would only use her for her body.

"Do not touch me," you spit, tearing your wrists from his grasp and pushing him back with all the muster you could gather. "How dare you try to touch me after you've laid with her? After you fucked her? You repulse me."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you spew your words. Aemond stands there, taking it all of your fury—he deserves it. What you hate the most is that he does nothing to defend himself, as if all of your words are the maddening truth.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," Aemond swallows as tears fall down your cheeks.

"These tears do not stem from hurt. They are from humiliation. You embarrassed me, Aemond. Do you know how many hours I've spent praising you in front of the other ladies of the court, speaking about how perfect of a husband you've been these past two years?"

Your pride might be bigger than his, and he's done the worst thing he could ever do— wound it. Such a prideful woman will only forgive him if there's a good enough reason and with lots of begging.

At his silence, you push past him and reach for the door. "I've made my duty as your wife and given you two sons. Do not expect more from me. Go to your little whore and see if she'll perform the wifely duties you asked from me." With one more glance towards your husband, you slam the door.

It is no mystery why Aemond is in a mood from that night forward. Guards stand straighter with him around, Aegon's so-called friends keep quiet, and Criston Cole bears the brunt of it all as Aemond calls him to spar. Each passing day becomes more brutal.

You have stayed true to your word and kept your distance from Aemond. You've never felt as far away from him as when you sit by him during meals. You no longer place your hand on his thigh when Aegon throws jabs at him or smile his way when he says something worth admiring.

If you must address him regarding the children, you do so but with a straight face and without awaiting his answer. The Red Keep has turned grey as you no longer pull him through the halls between duties to find a dark corner to kiss or touch him. Fleeting moments he truly cherished.

He's losing you, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it. He's sure that you will never look at him the same if he comes clean with the truth. It will burn whatever thread is left of your marriage.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Alicent asks. They're in her quarters discussing one of the many plans to prepare for war, and yet he's not paying attention.

"Nothing," he says softly, eyeing the map in front of him. We should send our men to the east."

Alicent tilts her head and sits across from him, studying him closely. "Is this about your wife?"

The glint the young Hightower carries is missing. Her constant search for Aemond throughout the day has ceased abruptly, startling Alicent and Helaena. She rarely mentions him, only speaking about him when asked, and even then, her words have bite.

Alicen believed her son could do no wrong regarding his wife. Aemond adored you. He pinned after you from the moment it was announced that you were searching for a husband.

Alicent was hesitant at first. Marrying inside the family was a queer Targaryen custom, not a Hightower one, yet Otto insisted. Another Hightower in the Red Keep meant more power. He pushed you to marry Aegon while Aemond asked Alicent to consider him instead. She left it in your hands. It was only fair that you made the choice of who you shared your life with.

Aemond is silent momentarily, "She's upset with me." His words are short as he avoids talking about the subject.

"What did you do?" Alicent sighs disappointedly, leaning back on her chair. Why must her sons ruin all good things in their lives?

Alicent's reaction causes him to close back up just as quickly. Yes, it is his fault, but his mother's lack of faith is disheartening. Once upon a time, Aemond would've confided in his mother, but recent events have severed that trust. "My marital problems are none of your concern."

"Then how am I to help you fix this?" She asks in a knowing tone. Alicent feels the weight of her house on her shoulders. She's responsible for keeping everything together.

"I don't recall asking for your help, mother." Aemond ignores her judging eyes, moving the metal pieces around the map. He was here to make war plans, not talk about his feelings.

"Very well," Alicent clears her throat, moving farther away from her son. The gods are punishing as each one of her children drift away from her.

Unlike Aemond's mother, you take your duty as a mother quite seriously. Your children are all you have, and you cherish them equally. You refused a wet nurse when you birthed your first, and when the second followed a year after, you proceeded to do the same.

Feeding them from your breast brings a wave of emotion that is impossible to describe. The bond that forms between mother and child is strengthened by this natural action. Why do the other ladies in court not do the same? All they do is gossip and indulge in the luxuries of the keep. They have no responsibilities other than to please their husbands and care for their children.

The loud cries of your youngest filter through the door and echo throughout the halls of the keep. The babe has been incessantly crying for the past hour for no reason. Feeding and changing his nappy did nothing to ease his discomfort, leaving you overwhelmed. Nonetheless, you continue to soothe your child because if you didn't, what kind of mother would you be?

You ignore Aemond as he steps into your chambers, bouncing the eleven-month-old in your arms. He must've followed the cries. "There, there, Baelor," you coo, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing through the thin strands of pale silver hair.

The babe continues to sniffle and release weak cries. The poor thing is exhausted yet refuses to sleep. He hangs onto his mother's dress and hair, opening and closing his chubby fist.

Aemond approaches you, extending his hands to take him from you, "May I?"

You cannot refuse him. Baelor is his son, and while he seeks the pleasure of common whores you know he adores his sons.

Baelor is fuzzy and complains when he's taken away from your warm embrace, but he immediately settles in his father's hold when he recognizes him. The smell of Aemond's leather clothes offered him the comfort he was searching for.

Baelor missed his father.

"Clearly, you're his favorite," you murmur, settling down in the chaise that faces the fireplace. You're worse for wear. It's hard to find rest when questions remain unanswered, and you've lost the person you love most.

"Only till it's time to feed," Aemond says to lighten the mood between you.

You scoff, removing your jewelry and tossing it on the cushion beside you. "Great, I'm a glorified cow, only used to feed."

Aemond falters, his hold on his son tightening as he curls closer into Aemond's neck. Baelor's soft breaths tickle his neck. "That's not what I meant, wife."

You continue to stare into the fire as tears line your eyes. "I know," you whisper. It's been a difficult day.

Had you not been betrayed by Aemond, you would've sought his attention and spilled all the thoughts running through your mind so he could tell you you were being unreasonable.

He would reassure you that you're intelligent, beautiful, a wonderful mother, cunning, captivating, and a dream come to life.

You're punishing yourself. You decided to distance yourself, and came to the horrid realization that it is much harder than you bargained. You underestimated what three years of always being together would do to you.

Aemond catches on to your apprehension and puts a sleeping Baelor on the cradle the nursemaid left by your bed. He returns to your side and kneels on the floor right by your feet.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the first time since that night. It's been a long, difficult four weeks without you by his side. He misses all the little things you did for him.

All the check-ups throughout the day to make sure he's broken fast or slept well. Brushing his hair at night before he takes you to bed and shows you his gratitude. Your eyes meeting his across the room, suggesting he takes you elsewhere for a stolen private moment away from everyone else.

He misses you telling him about everything Baelor and Rhaegar got up to in the day and about every new milestone they hit, suggesting they are as healthy as they can be. He misses the late nights spent tangled together, talking about what the future holds for you both, the idea of having a baby girl for Rhaegar and Baelor to protect.

"What do you apologize for now?"

"For betraying your trust. I made an oath and broke it, and for that, I apologize. It is my biggest regret in life," Aemond says, reaching for your hand. "Please, forgive me."

"Then why do you continue to lie?" You whisper as a tear rolls down your cheeks.

"That's the only truth there is," Aemond whispers breathlessly. You give him a pitiful chuckle and tug your hand away from his despite wanting to hold onto it forever.

Your nose burns as more tears spill from your eyes. Insecurity wrapping you in its arms. "Please, do not lie. Why do you want me to believe you went to the brothel for a fleeting pleasure when I have always been here? Am I not good enough for you?"

Your anger has simmered down to a smoky sadness that envelops you. Aemond is lying to you when you're the person he's supposed to trust the most. If there is a chance of rebuilding this marriage, he must tell you the truth, even if it ruins you.

"Gods, you are everything I wanted and more, my sweet wife," Aemond speaks, cupping your face to wipe away your salty tears.

He's at a loss. He's hurt you, but the pain can be remedied if he speaks the truth. How can he allow you to believe you're not enough when you're the perfect woman. His endeavors in the street of silk stem from his own damaged soul, never yours.

"I am afraid," Aemond confesses, brushing one last tear with the pad of his thumb before he retreats his hands. You stare back at him, puzzled. "It is not what you believe. I have not laid with another woman since I married you."

"Then what is it, Aemond? Because my mind has conjured up the worst of scenarios."

"You will not think of me the same," he says, ashamed, hanging his head to avoid your hurt gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You ask aloud, and without awaiting his response, you continue to speak, "Until you work up the courage to tell me the truth, things will remain the same. No matter how much it hurts."

Standing, you leave Aemond kneeling on the floor to prepare for sleep. You glance over your shoulder and watch Aemond stare deep into the fire. When you step out of the privacy screen, he's gone.

It takes another week of agony for Aemond to come to a decision. He cannot bear having you so close yet so far away. He misses you and greatly underestimates how much happier you make him.

He hasn't been to the brothel since the night you confronted him. He barely spares it a thought nowadays. You are the only person wreaking havoc in his head.

He fucked up his marriage, and now he has to pay his dues, even if it means coming clean about his intentions with Sylvi. It was barely sexual, he hasn't fucked her since he married you, but he couldn't let go of the comfort she provided, and Alicent withdrew.

He's smart enough to know it's a farce. The women in the brothel will do just about anything if it means they are paid. But Aemond deluded himself into believing Sylvi cared about what he had to say and told her things he hadn't spoken to anyone else. She played the part well, giving advice freely and reassuring him with soft touches and softer words.

When the guard opens the door to Aemond's chambers, allowing you to enter, he instantly stands, approaching you to ask for your hand and kiss the back of it.

You raise an eyebrow at him but allow him nonetheless. The press of his lips to your skin sends a spark up your arm and down your spine.

"Wife," he greets, guiding you to sit.

"Aemond," you reply, not quite giving in to his sweet actions. Aemond summoned you with the promise of the truth. That is why you're here.

"How does the day find you?"

"Aemond, please," you plead. You came for the truth, and niceties won't do anything to soften the brunt of his words. Prolonging this won't help anyone.

"Very well," Aemond sighs, gesturing you to sit. His hands remain on his lap where he opens and closes them anxiously. "I met her when I was three and ten. Aegon forced me to the brothel because he thought it was time I…became a man."

You dare not speak as Aemond justifies his actions. You need to know the truth before your nerves consume you.

This is the tricky part of his story. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and continues, "She was far older than I was and offered something I lacked in the Keep. Comfort, solace, familiarity, whatever you want to call it. I continued to visit her throughout my youth, although it wasn't always to find release rather than someone to listen and give me what my mother never could."

Aemond avoids looking at you, afraid of what he might find written on your face. Perhaps disgust, shame, or disapproval.

He owed you the truth, so he spoke about all the details of this affair. How he liked the intimacy of lying naked with Sylvi, suckling at her breast. How she would hold him in her arms and touch him. The advice she would offer. The things they spoke about. How he rejects her when she makes any advances, thinking that's what he wants. He admits that he is completely vulnerable and free for those hours because she will have his side no matter what he says.

"Do you have feelings for her?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It's terrifying to think he might harbor feelings for her. Such intimate acts easily allow feelings to infiltrate one's being. "Aemond, look at me."

Hesitantly, Aemond meets your eyes. Your face is blank, devoid of emotion that may indicate what you now think of him.

"No, and I never will," Aemond says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He chooses his words carefully, "She was an escape, someone to listen to the tragedy that was my life. She knew what I wanted and gave it unsolicited. I know it is not real, wife, but I was foolish enough to seek more."

The emotion that surfaces in your face is not directed at him; instead, it reflects the insecurities you have about yourself. "Did you not think I could give you what she did and actually mean it?"

Insecurities of his own rise up and make themselves shown, "I thought you would see me as a weaker man."

You're both so young with so much to learn, yet if there is one thing you're certain about, it's the love you share. That love would never make you see Aemond as weak; it would transform that quality he refers to as weak into something totally different and positive.

"You are not weak but a fool," you shake your head, reaching for him. It is your turn to cup his face to force him to focus only on you. "I know of those feelings you hide firmly, Aemond. I spent most of my childhood here in King's Landing. I watched while Aegon and the Strong boys teased you. I was here when you returned from Driftmark without an eye. I heard your cries of pain. You come off as this stoic man to everyone else, the fierce Aemond, but I know the real you."

"I am ashamed." Aemond is truthful. No more lies weight his beating heart.

"Do you swear to never look for her again? That you will come to me instead?"

"I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the seven. I swear it by my life," Aemond promises. "Will you return to me, wife?" He asks hopefully, placing his hands over yours, afraid your touch will leave him.

"Yes, husband," you nod, pressing your forehead against his.

Your lips find his as the last word you speak is uttered. It's been far too long, and his dragon blood is calling for you. Aemond is quick to react, moving his lips desperately against yours and pulling you to his lap.

He comes to you late at night once there are no more council calls or responsibilities to tend to. It's around that time when he has nothing to busy himself with, and the ache in his chest makes itself known.

It's a constant reminder that he is far from invincible. Pain and hurt live within him, ready to resurface at the most unexpected times.

"Husband." You greet him with a bright smile when he steps into your chambers.

"Wife," he speaks quietly, standing uncomfortably by your door. While he's agreed to come to you in his times of need, Aemond is unsure how to approach the situation.

"What is the matter?" A pout adorns your lips as you walk over to him. It's genuine concern.

Aemond stiffens when you approach him, tilting your head to assess him. You wrap your arms around his waist, searching for his gaze.

"Aemond?" You call to him softly.

"Please," he whispers with shaking hands that he places on your hips. The expensive material of your night shift is soft against his palms.

The tone of his voice and the reserved behavior tell you what he's asking for. You nod wordlessly and grab his hand, guiding him to your bed.

This is unlike those moments when passion takes over and desperate need forces you to tug and tear his clothes away. With patience and delicate fingers, you calmly help him undress.

Unbuckling the clasps of his leather doublet, you slide it down his arms and throw it to the side. The tunic that covers his chest comes off next, exposing the strong panels of his abdomen and the ropes of muscle of his arms. All a result of his extensive training.

Featherlight touches to his skin make his breath hitch as they slide down to his breeches, where you agilely untie the laces. You don't meet his eyes as you do so, giving him some resemblance of modesty, but Aemond watches intently how you treat him with such care.

You gently push him to sit on the bed, where you kneel to take off his boots and socks. Aemond allows his breeches to fall to the ground, leaving him completely naked, except for the eyepatch he wears like armor.

It protects him from the disgusted expressions people shoot him with because of the deformity he acquired as a child.

It never stops hurting.

You've never been repulsed by his missing eye. On the contrary, you're fascinated by the scar and the sapphire embedded in the empty socket.

Reaching around his head, you unclasp the leather and place the eyepatch with the rest of his clothing. You offer him a delicate smile while placing your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it.

Your touch on his raised scar eases the pain.

Withdrawing from him, you tug in the lacing of your night shift and shrug it off your shoulders to uncover your body. You had promised to offer him the same care she did in that wretched place.

The bed is covered by pillows and blankets to protect you from the cold of the incoming winter, and you mentally thank the maids for preparing the fire before they left you to rest. You lie over the furs, extending your hand towards Aemond to welcome him in.

Aemond's timidness is present, but he pushes it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and settles across your lap. Your skin is soft and warm against his, and your soft curves, molded to accommodate his children, bring him comfort.

As you brush through his hair with your fingers, you gently untie the band holding half of his hair up. You massage the silver tresses, his scalp prickling from the release of tension. He hums quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair.

"What troubles you, my Prince?" You finally ask.

Aemond's head rests on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbones. One of your hands rests upon his back, drawing figures across the expanse of it, feeling every bump and curve of his spine and muscles. The other grasps his hand, pulling it to your lips to press a reassuring kiss to the palm of it.

"That title. Prince." He murmurs sadly, taking a deep breath.

That familiar scent of oils invades his senses. It's a smell he remembers from his childhood when Alicent still cared for him. In turn, his body relaxes, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"It is a stepping stone in the hierarchy," you reply, recognizing what he implies. Aegon does not have what it takes to rule a kingdom, while Aemond years to sit on the throne.

Aemond reaches up to grasp at a strand of copper hair. The same shade as his mothers. He twists it around his finger while shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I thought all of my achievements would be more fruitful," he ponders.

It seems that ruling a kingdom falls on the eldest male heir, even if they are not fit to rule. Aegon sits on the throne, yet the rest of the council rules on his behalf. This puts the Targaryen name to shame; the fool barely speaks High Valyrian.

"Patience is key. Aegon shows no signs of changing. He will be his own downfall," you respond thoughtfully. You hate thinking about Aegon in such a way, but it's the truth. He wants to prove himself so badly but goes about it all the wrong way.

Copper hair leads to naked skin the same shade as his mother's, and for once, he can imagine himself in his mother's embrace. It brings tears to his eyes as he curls further into you, and his nose brushes against your skin.

With the pillows propping you up and Aemond curled on your lap, you press a kiss to the crown of his head. Your touch runs all over his skin, from his face to his feet.

Aemond continues to speak his mind, and you offer the perfect responses to his dilemmas, calming him when his emotions get the best of him and tears spill from his eyes.

He should've come to you sooner. You're a high-born lady who knows much more about life in court. There were always warning signs with Sylvi. She tried to manipulate him into thinking about the common folk and their ailments more than once. She would never understand that while House Targaryen is at war, there is no space to think about the well-being of its subordinates.

When silence ensues, Aemond allows himself to look up at you. You're serene as you hold him close to your body without an ounce of impatience. The resemblance to his mother is there, but he got something much better.

He got a woman who loves him unconditionally, flaws and all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Aemond closes his eyes and melts further into your touch. You hug him close and whisper your affections. This is how it was always meant to be.

That night, Aemond sleeps in your chambers. It would be wrong for him to leave after you've treated him with such tenderness. You are no simple whore from the street of silk. You are his wife, and as such, you are meant to be treated with utmost respect. Something he had failed to do but no more.

Breathy whines, wake him before the sun rises. Recognizing your voice, he wakes, looking at his surroundings for any danger. When you whine once more, he glances over at you.

You squirm in your sleep, seemingly uncomfortable. Something bothers you, but your exhaustion prevents you from waking. One of your hands reaches for your chest, and another whine spills from your lips.

Aemond's eye is drawn to the action. He reaches for the sheet covering your body and pulls on it to find the cause of your discomfort. His breath hitches, and his cock aches.

Your breasts are swollen and tender from being filled to their capacity, causing beads of milk to leak from the stiff peaks of your nipples.

Aemond briefly remembers you mentioning how Baelor has been fuzzy lately, and Rhaegar is getting older and doesn't seek you as often for food, yet you continue to produce copious amounts of milk. He has been blessed with a perfect wife and an excellent mother who produces enough sustenance for his children.

Aemond's pointer finger traces a path down your neck to your left breast. They are calling to him as his finger follows the curve of your breast up to your puffy areola and tip of your nipple. A slight press to the taught skin prompts more fluid to leak down your sides, and you hiss in discomfort.

Bringing his finger up to his lips, he licks the whitish liquid. Perhaps it's a mistake, as he's left wanting more. Aemond uncovers the top half of your naked body and leans over your chest. With one look towards your beautiful face, he wraps his lips around the plush flesh of your breast.A surge of liquid fills his mouth.

You have the sweetest milk he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. Aemond moans at the saccharine taste. It is so much better than the farce he had in the brothel. This milk comes from his wife, who nurtures his healthy sons.

A loud, sultry moan spills from your lips as some of the pressure is alleviated. You're now between sleep and awareness. Your hand cradling the back of Aemond's head.

Aemond's cock is painfully hard as it presses against your thigh. He's been driven into a frenzy, your milk serving as an aphrodisiac. His hand brushes against your inner thigh to answer a rising question.

Careful fingers find your wet slit, proving his theory right. He's not the only depraved person in the room. Your body is responsive to him even in altered states of consciousness.

Your cunt is absolutely drenched, making it so easy for Aemond to push a finger in. It's enough to fully wake you from your slumber. "Ah, Aemond." You throw your head back in pleasure.

It takes you a second to take in the entirety of Aemond's actions. The pleasure coursing through you, overwhelming your senses. A loud moan tears through your throat at the realization that Aemond is not simply teasing your breasts. Aemond feasts on your aching tits.

"Have your fill, my prince," you beg as that ache in your chest is pleasingly soothed.

Aemond is eager and rough. The light stubble of his jaw sends a current of electricity down to your cunt where you clench around his fingers.

"My Aemond, good boy." He responds to the praise why sliding another finger into your tight cunny. The slick sound of your arousal accompanies the suckling of his lips.

You squeeze your other breast to alleviate the tightening discomfort and drops fall on your hand. Drawn to it, Aemond switches, and you squeal as his teeth scrape the sensitive skin of your nipple.

Aemond ruts into your thigh as he quickens the pace of his fingers intruding on your cunny to part through your walls. The vibration of his quiet moans stimulates your swollen peaks.

If this is not heaven, he doesn't wish for it.

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair when you arch your back to offer yourself to him. His eye meets your hooded gaze and sets himself to give you whatever you please. His thumb circles your pearl expertly, and he curls his digits to hit your spot more firmly.

You cry in pleasure with your hips, riding his fingers until you come with a shudder and his name on your lips. Your walls clamp down on his fingers hard enough it is hard for him to retrieve them.

Aemond rises from your chest and pinches your cheeks with his fingers that remain coated with your slick, prompting your mouth to open. A stream of your milk falls from his mouth to yours as he gives you a sweet taste.

You believe another orgasm rips through your body as his lips press against yours to share a sweet tasting kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, allowing you the pleasure of tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Please," you beg for him, spreading your legs wantonly.

One to indulge his wife in all pleasures, Aemond pulls you on top of him, "Take what you desire."

His cock is fully erect and begging for attention. The tip is swollen and flushed a deep pink as it leaks pre that beads down his shaft.

Aemond acknowledges you've reached your limit when his beautiful wife, who adores worshipping his cock on her knees, grabs his length and sinks onto him without a preamble.

"Go on, my love, you can take it," Aemond hisses as you try to lower yourself to take all of him. His hands grip your hips tightly, urging you on. He swears your walls continue to contract from your previous peak.

"Aemond, husband," you moan lewdly. Your hips tentatively begin bouncing on him, and your tits follow to Aemond's delight.

He's mesmerized by them and how they continue to leak. Aemond mouths one more aggressively, teasing your nipple with his tongue, nipping at the surrounding flesh to leave his mark. His hand massages the other, allowing droplets to fall down your abdomen and onto your cunt.

"My perfect wife, such a good mother," Aemond mutters, praising you, "Pretty tits always full and her cunny always wet."

You hold onto Aemond's strong shoulders, your nails leaving marks across his back. Your hips grind on him deliciously as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

"Aemond, please," you beg, quickening your pace. You're on the verge of yet another delicious peak. "I want another." You'll have as many as he wants as long as he treats you with this much attention.

Aemond kisses up your neck and growls in your ear, "I shall give you as many as you'd like."

Swiftly, he turns you so your back is to the bed. He hikes your thighs up around his waist and snaps his hips fiercely. You first the bedsheets around you as Aemond holds bruisingly against your hips and thighs.

He's close to his own peak as well. Aemond manages to hold back because of all the attention he's giving your tits, but his cock cannot take anymore, especially with how deliciously your walls wrap around him.

Aemond admires his perfect wife. Your hair fans out on the pillows, and your facial expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as you come once more. Your breasts are less swollen, but your stiff peaks remain puffy and flushed from his attention. Your cunt chokes his cock, knowing exactly what it takes to please him.

His rhythmic thrusting begins to falter, so with a couple more jerks of his hips and a groan, he paints your insides white. "There we go, all for you."

"Thank you," you lilt, biting your lip at the sensation of being filled.

You giggle when he leans down to kiss all over your face, a laugh of his own reaching your ears.

The door creaking open wakes you up, bringing the sheets to your chest, you sit up. Aemond lets the bedsheet fall to his lap, ready to scold whoever dares interrupt his time with his wife.

A small blonde head peaks in, and a big grin unleashes on its lips when he sees his parents. Young Rhaegar toddles into the room, and his head is barely seen as he stands on the edge of the bed. His tiny hands try to grasp the edge, but he's still too small to get himself up.

Aemond reaches over to bring him up, pressing a kiss on his head, but Rhaegar happily crawls over Aemond and falls into your waiting arms.

Aemond's exposed sapphire earns no reaction. In fact, the eyepatch tends to catch his son's attention more. Aemond ensured that when his sons came into this world, he would greet them as he truly is.

You pepper kisses all over Rhaegar's face, and he giggles, squirming on your lap. While Baelor favored his father, Rhaegar was entirely yours. "What are you doing here, little dragon?" You ask him sweetly.

The nursemaid stepping through the open door answers your question, "Prince Aemond, Lady Hightower. My apologies, he scurried away before I could-"

"It is alright. You may leave us," Aemond says, waving his hand to dismiss her. The young girl bows her head, hiding her blushing cheeks, and scurries away without saying another word, aware of the compromising position of the Prince and his wife.

"My sweetest, why are you up so early?" You coo, threading your fingers through his messy hair that sticks up in all directions.

Rhaegar hides his face on your chest, mumbling, "Missed you."

You gasp dramatically, facing the young boy with a surprised expression. "You missed me? I missed you!" Your son laughs and presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

"What about me, little dragon?" Aemond asks, tickling his belly.

Rhaegar cutely shakes his head with a mischievous smile, squealing loudly when Aemond reaches for him and takes him into his own arms to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar's childlike laugh pierces the air as he asks for your help.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Aemond grumbles, playfully glaring at his son as he continues to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar repeats, pushing Aemond's hands away and waiting for you to scold Aemond or something.

You watch the interaction with a wide smile. It's nice to see Aemond this calm. "Give me back, my little dragon, or there are no more kisses for you," you threaten Aemond with a furrow of your eyebrows and a pout. Aemond abruptly stops and loosens his hold on the toddler.

Rhaegar laughs and throws himself in your arms, hugging your neck. His giggles never cease. Aemond winks at you and pulls you to lie on his chest.

"How about we go see Vhagar later?" Aemond asks Rhaegar who calmed down to a drowsy state. It's still very early for him to have been up. He must've had a bad dream.

"Sunfyre?" Rhaegar gasps, looking up at his father. Aemond rolls his eyes and nods. He guesses he can invite Aegon so his son can see the golden dragon.

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" You ask him amusedly, although you agree. Sunfyre is a beautiful dragon and much friendlier than Vhagar.

Rhaegar nods enthusiastically as he babbles about the pretty dragon. You lay with your back to Aemond's chest as he envelops you both with his arms.

At that moment, Aemond realizes he feels fulfilled with his little family by his side.

it was not part of the plan to let this oneshot be this long. there is something about the complexity of aemond's character that doesn't let me write something brief.

nonetheless this was a super fun oneshot to write. it took me the whole week because i was so busy but i had been thinking about it nonstop. i think i overdid it with the lactation part but oh well!

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept aemond's sapphire, rhaenyra's crown, criston cole slander, emojis, words of encouragement, a lot of praise, virtual hugs and gushing about sunfyre and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

-nikki 🖤

[fish-shaped-mango]

I may have been a little bored

Bitb ≈ 11:43:12

Apotheosis ≈ 27:15:26

Suckening ≈ 39:58:43 up to 13

Convergence ≈ 18:35:59

Avg episode length ≈ 3:57:28

Convergence with average 3 missing episodes ≈ 30:28:23

Pd s1 ≈ 43:48:16

Pd s2 ≈ 71:58:15

All pd ≈ 115:46:31

Fated s1 ≈ 52:07:34 not including the recap

Fated s2 ≈ 97:36:07

All of fated ≈ 149:43:41 with out recap

All of fated ≈ 150:49:36 with recap

Riptide ≈ 197:41:08 with out origins

Riptide ≈ 199:31:54 with origins

The black rose pirates ≈ 4:28:19

Mythborne ≈ 6:05:34

Age of heros ≈ 4:24:05

Monster control services ≈ 4:02:11

All together ≈ 582:41:30

[palisman273]

Brandon Rogers is finally getting called out and I'm glad for it

Even ignoring his own problematic and garbage behavior, he is responsible for so many terrible writing decisions and horrible jokes in Helluva Boss and yet the spindlehorse critics we've gone so long blaming only Viv and maybe Adam Neylan (which is warranted). But is immature "haha sex funni" comedy is basically half the foundation of Helluva's humor, with Viv's constant swearing and crap melodrama being the second half. And yet we're all blaming Viv for this? Nah, he is the cause of the unfunny sex jokes being the basis for so many punchlines on the show. Even in the episodes he doesn't write (which are in Season 2) the show clearly still carries on his style of humor when not doing maudlin melodrama.

It's time to debunk the narrative that "Brandon was the best, after he stopped writing so much in S2 him the show went downhill". No, the show's humor was flawed ever since he took the reigns, you just didn't mind it then cause it was a new show. After 18+ episodes of the same humor driven largely from his idea or comedy, people started getting tired. However, since Viv is in control of the show, people blamed her entirely for it (which isn't too unfounded), but often forgot that it is he was responsible for it too.

After the recent horrid "Octavia is a slut ha ha" comment from Brandon has now led to more people realizing he's a POS too what with reevaluating his problematic past, I'm hoping that Brandon will finally be held accountable for his actions and will be recognized as just as much to blame for Helluva's awful writing decisions and shit humor as Viv is.

[hugmekenobi]

Heal

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Shaking the effects of Tantiss is easier said than done

Warnings: Literally one use of (Y/N), swearing, hints of Tech/Phee, references to past pain and torture, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares and trouble sleeping, descriptions of illness (headaches), reader is hard on herself, suggestive dialogue, light PDA (kissing, teasing touches), mentions of food, me making up what everyone is up to on Pabu, fluff and happy ending

Masterlist for S1, S2 and S3

Word Count: 7.2K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Okay, not gonna lie, I struggled with this one. It was a last minute idea as I was rewatching and writing the final few episodes of season 3 but it worked and felt a lot better in my head and when it came to writing, my brain was not my friend lol. I hope it's still enjoyable! The next oneshot is the story I've had planned for months so that should be a smoother process haha

It had been a few weeks since you’d all taken up official residence in Pabu.

Shep’s offer of setting up homes for you all stayed true.

You and Hunter had been put in a hut perfectly designed for the two of you that was a short walk away from the water and there was even a spare room for Omega who alternated between sleeping in your home and the home Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker all shared.

The three other clones may have been grouped together but there was plenty of room, and not a lot of time was spent indoors anyway.

Wrecker had taken to fishing like, well, like a fish to water.

Crosshair did a bit of everything, helping out with tasks of whoever needed assistance but he mainly he kept up with practicing shooting with his left hand. He wanted the practice, and he genuinely enjoyed it. He didn’t miss being a soldier anymore but that didn’t mean he had to renege on his skills.

Tech spent much of his time with Phee or assisting Shep in rebuilding parts of Pabu that still needed it and upgrading equipment.  

Omega often kept close company with Lyana and the other young reg clones or she went off with Tech to plan out a potential search for lost or salvageable pieces of the Marauder- the two of them had dreams of rebuilding new a ship with as many pieces of their old home as possible. It was yet to be undertaken but the vision was there.

The task of reuniting the children from Tantiss with their families had been successful but with that final mission complete, you and Hunter were also in the same boat as Crosshair and still yet to find your official niche on island. For now, you both were just relishing in the peace and each other’s company.

One thing you had managed to achieve was finding a way to finally get in touch with Lyra again, who- despite being filled in on everything that had happened since you parted ways on Christophsis- still managed to scold you for the lack of communication. But after hearing you all were alive and settled, she’d sent you all packages of more suitable island clothes with promises to visit soon.

Everything was coming together and so you were feeling one with the island life.

However, life here was not without its challenges.

The impact and aftermath of Tantiss remained a constant shadow that would still find ways to rear its ugly head. Something you and Hunter in particular found yourselves dealing with.

--

“I figured we could have the party in the next couple of weeks right here in the colonnade and, I don’t know, you could slip away or…” Shep trailed off as he saw the way Hunter’s brow furrowed in pain.

“Uh huh.” Hunter agreed distantly. He didn’t want to ignore Shep, especially when he was doing him the favour, but fuck had the sun always been this bright? The blinding pain behind his eyes and throbbing in his skull was getting harder to dismiss.  

You were a casual observer and listener to the conversation between the young reg clones and the adult clones that had remained on the island- Deke, Stak and Mox had no shortage of questions for them. But you sensed a rising discomfort and then you caught the way Hunter kept pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting to get away from the glare of the warm sun. “Excuse me.” You politely removed yourself from the conversation and hurriedly walked over to where Shep and Hunter were conversing. “Shep, I’m sorry to interrupt but do you mind if I steal him away for a moment?”

“Not at all.” Shep bid the two of you farewell with a smile.

You lightly rested a hand on his upper arm. “Hunter? Another flare up?” You figured, keeping your worried voice quiet.

Hunter just about managed a nod and said through gritted teeth, “But I can wait it out. Shep-”

He would attempt to come up with an excuse every time and every time you wouldn’t even entertain it. “Come on.” You carefully wrapped an arm around him and guided him back home.

--

You opened the door and carried on through to the bedroom. You gently prompted him to sit on the bed as you knelt down and took his shoes off before you shut the bedroom window to cancel out the noise outside and closed the blinds to keep the sunlight out. You kept your voice low and monotone as you instructed him, “Lie down.”

Hunter did as you said and rested on his back.

The routine was second nature to you. He hadn’t had headaches like this for a while but since Tantiss and because of what he’d suffered there, they’d become more frequent. His senses hadn’t quite readjusted back to what they used to be.

You moved silently throughout the house as you went to the freezer and came back with the cold compress you stored specifically for these moments and placed it over his eyes. “I’ll just be in the living room if you need anything. Try to sleep.” You whispered caringly before you lightly squeezed his hand and made to leave. However, you had barely stepped away from the bed when Hunter’s hand caught your wrist.

“Stay.” He requested through a wince.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” You cautioned quietly. You had remained a couple times before, but it had never been a certainty that he wanted you to stay when he was going through this. You always waited for him to give the okay.

“You can’t.” He murmured. He needed you here to ground him in a way the usual methods could never do.

You removed your own shoes and supported his back as you sat him up and slotted yourself behind him.

Hunter rested his head against your chest.

You readjusted the compress slightly once you were both in a comfortable position. “This okay?” You asked as you softly massaged each of his temples.

Hunter let out a tranquil sigh and he could already feel the discomfort receding. You always knew just what it was he needed from you in these moments. “Perfect.”

--

Hunter wasn’t the only one still feeling the lingering toil of Tantiss. Your screams of terror and the way you thrashed next to him woke him up. He called your name and shook your arm to wake you up. “Hey, hey. Easy, easy. It’s alright.” He assured you as he saw your eyes widen in fear.

You shot awake and hastily sat up, your breathing hard and uneven.

“You’re okay. I’m here.” Hunter whispered soothingly as he sat up alongside you.

You closed your eyes and let his voice be the only thing you focused on.

“You’re alright. It was a bad dream.”

Right yes, a bad dream.

“Hold on.” Hunter pressed his lips to your clothed shoulder before he got out of bed and ran a cloth under some cold water.

You worked on getting your breathing back under control. You ran a hand over your face and felt the beads of sweat dripping down your temples and down your neck and back. Your sleep top was sticking to you uncomfortably. But you forced yourself to concentrate on anything that didn’t remind you of the nightmare you’d just escaped. You took in your secure and familiar surroundings of your bedroom to calm yourself down. You weren’t back there. You were on Pabu with Hunter. You were safe here.  

Hunter slid back in bed beside you. “Arms up.” He prompted delicately. When you did that, he carefully removed your sweat soaked top and tossed it to the side of the bed– he’d deal with it in the morning- and placed the cool cloth to the back of your neck and spine before he tenderly dabbed at your temples. He then put a replacement top back over your head and continued to press the flannel around your forehead and neck.

“I’m sorry.” You rasped as you hid your face in your palms in embarrassment. You hated this. He would already have tough days and you couldn’t even offer him any relief in the evenings. The two of you had gotten into a rather unfortunate ritual where you would comfort him during the day and then the roles would switch as soon as night fell.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Hunter reassured you lovingly. He placed the cloth on the bedside table and rubbed his hand up and down your back to ease away the lingering tension and to help settle you back down. “Same one?” He guessed.

You nodded but kept your face hidden from him. “I’m just standing there. I’m watching him hurt you over and over again and I’m not doing anything to stop it.” You said, your voice cracking with each word. “Then he goes to the rest of you- to Omega. I’m completely frozen and all I can do is watch you all writhe in pain. I keep fighting to move but nothing happens. I’m just so useless and I stand by and let it happen. You’re crying out for help, and I just stand there.” You whispered with plenty of self-loathing behind your words.

Hunter shushed you consolingly. “But that’s not what happened. It’s just the nightmare talking.”

“Is it? Because it feels an awful lot like that’s what I did.” You said with self-directed disgust.

““You didn’t do nothing. You didn’t give up. You did what you thought you needed to do to get us out of there alive.” Hunter reminded you.

“Imprisoned.” You corrected.

“Alive.” Hunter countered.

You knew there was no sense in arguing with him over it. “I should be over this by now. I coped after Christophsis. I don’t know why this is sticking with me so much.” You said critically instead.

Hunter was all too familiar with this line of argument. As soon as you admitted to the nightmare and the fear it brought, you started looking for ways to berate yourself for feeling the way you were. “You couldn’t process Christophsis on your own time. You were in a position where you were forced to carry on. And I don’t think going through and being impacted by torture has a time requirement.”

You finally half-turned to face him. “Do you really believe that?”

The doubt in your voice made his throat constrict and chest tighten. “I know it.”

“But dealing with this is annoying.” You mumbled self-consciously and you averted your gaze once more.

“Do you get annoyed when you’ve needed to help me?”

You lifted your eyes back to him. “No, of course not.”

“Exactly. You help me through those episodes. Why do you think I’d treat you any differently?” He rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone. “You still need to give yourself the same treatment you give other people.” He said caringly.

You leaned your head against Hunter’s shoulder and just gave a series of reluctant but agreeable noises to signal your acceptance of his statement.

“You’re talking to me though. That counts for something.” Hunter praised, angling his head so he could kiss your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m a work in progress.” You managed to say with some light-heartedness before your voice went solemn again. “Just don’t give up on me… please.”

“Never.” Hunter promised with steadfast seriousness.

Your eyes flickered shut and you snuggled closer to him as he ran his hand up and down your arm in soft, delicate patterns.

“Want to sleeping try again?” He suggested after he felt your breathing and pulse settle back down.

You gulped but agreed to give sleep another go. “Okay.” You laid back down readjusted the covers you had kicked off in your sleep-panicked state. You breathed deeply as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to at least get a couple uninterrupted hours. But the darker part of your nightmare, the part you couldn’t vocalise, lingered with you and you didn’t know how to get past it.

Hunter wrapped his arm around your side and pulled your back tight to his chest, but despite all you opened up about, he knew you were holding something back. It was the same every night and he knew sleep would continue to elude you.

--

This new day was nearly over. Dusk had come and gone but the concept of night and sleep filled you with a deep anxiety. You needed to clear your head before you even thought about winding down for the night. “I’m going for a walk; I’ll be back soon.” You said, giving Hunter a chaste kiss to his lips before you exited your home.

Hunter gave you a slight smile as you parted from him, and he could only watch you leave. He had never felt so helpless.

He knew he couldn’t quite help you in the way you needed but there might be someone else who could.

--

“Hey there, Hunter.” Phee greeted cheerily as she opened the door to greet the clone.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Hunter asked apologetically.

Phee rolled her eyes, “Pfftt no way. He’s been at this for hours, if you can get his attention onto something else, be my guest.”  She led him through to the living room.

Tech grunted his greeting as he sought out the tool that he needed for the task he was completing for Shep. The island had a healer- Dalia, but she mainly operated out of her home because, until recently, that suited just fine. But when the attack on Pabu occurred, Shep and Dalia had found themselves ill-prepared for accommodating the seriousness of the injuries that followed so Tech was assisting in expanding and updating her equipment and resources. AZ was already a big help with that, but more was needing done. It was a longer but important project that Tech was taking very seriously.

 “Sorry about the mess.” Phee said with an annoyed yet affectionate stare in Tech’s direction, but she was not surprised when the clone did not appear to even register that she’d spoken. She had stopped trying to get Tech to tidy as he went about altering this latest piece of machinery since he’d insistently claimed there was an order to the chaos around him. The entire area in which he was working was covered with random tools and intricate pieces of machinery. Phee struggled to see how this all equalled a system since all she saw was an array random pieces of metal taking up her living room floor. It didn’t truly bother her though; it was just another quirk she was fond off. Her appreciation for his intelligence and passion outweighed a little untidiness.

“Don’t worry, it’s something I’m very used to.” Hunter said lightly as he carefully stepped over some discarded screws.

“Sit down.” Phee encouraged, gesturing to a spare chair as she took a seat on the couch across from where Tech was working in the middle of the floor. But when Hunter made no move to do so, Phee properly looked at him and she noticed the distant and slightly nervous expression Hunter donned. “Everything alright?”

“I need your help, Tech.” Hunter said in answer.

Tech spoke for the first time since Hunter arrived as he found the spanner he needed, “I’m not yet finished with this. Once I’m done-”

“I don’t need you to fix anything, Tech. It’s about (Y/N). She’s struggling right now and-”

“Well, we know that she has a habit of taking things on by herself. A habit both of you have shared for quite a while.” Tech said plainly, not taking his eyes off the medical equipment he was fixing up. “I wouldn’t take her refusal or dismissals personally.”

Hunter bit back his frustrated huff. He knew attempting to get his brother’s focus when he was so absorbed by a project was always going to be challenging. He went to speak again but Phee beat him to it.

Enough was enough. Phee firmly nudged Tech’s good thigh with her boot, “Would you stop playing around with that and actually pay attention to what he has to say?”

Tech snapped out of his intense concentration. “Right, yes. Sorry, Hunter.” He started officially packing up. Once he was done, he gave his brother his full attention and it was then that he saw the genuine worry on Hunter’s face which told him it was more important than any mechanical repair. “What’s going on with her?”

“She keeps having nightmares from her capture on Tantiss. I can’t remember the last time she slept through the night.” Hunter took a ragged breath. “And it’s not like she’s keeping them to herself and that’s why they’re so bad. She’s doing everything we’ve worked on. She talks to me; she lets me in and help her, but I know there’s something else she’s keeping hidden. And it’s because she knows I can’t offer her the right words, or she wants to protect me from whatever it is she’s not telling me. I’m stuck and she’s not getting any better and I can’t offer her anything more than what I’m currently doing.”

“So, how exactly can I help?” Tech asked, rather puzzled as to why his brother had come to him with this dilemma. He wasn’t exactly known for providing helpful assistance for this type of issue. It wasn’t that he never wanted to, it just always didn’t come easily to him and usually you and Hunter would always be able to work through it yourselves.

Hunter began tentatively, “Y-your experiences were- were similar. I’d thought about Crosshair but what he went through was a bit different and from what you’ve told us, it sounds closer to what she’s been through. I hate to ask it of you but-”

“Where is she?” Tech asked, getting to his feet.

“If you’re not comfortable doing this I understand. It’s a lot to talk about and-”

“Hunter, just tell me where she is.” Tech interrupted with a firm reassurance to show that he truly didn’t mind.

“Down by the shore.” Hunter told him through a grateful sigh.  

Tech nodded and got ready to leave for the beach.

--

You breathed in the fresh and clean sea air, a gentle breeze wafted through your hair. The moonlight cast the water and sand in a luminous white glow. It offered you a peace you were yet to find in your own mind. The faint but demanding whines of the hound you’d acquired on your walk down had you smiling to yourself as you focused on the sounds of the waves lapping on the shore.

Tech saw you seated on the sand, Batcher waiting for you to throw a stick for her. “Did you know that gravity and the gravitational pull of the moon creates a phenomenon called tidal force, which is what causes the ocean tides to change?”

“I mean… I knew it was something like that.” You straightened your shoulders and managed a tight smile in his direction. “Hey, Tech.” You hoped you didn’t sound as exhausted as you felt.

Tech picked up on the heaviness in your voice despite your attempts to conceal it. “Also, did you know that water absorbs the red light of the colour spectrum, leaving the blue for us to see.” He added as he threw the stick for the hound.

You hummed out your acceptance of the fact as a reply whilst Batcher returned the stick but- after greeting Tech- decided she’d had enough and curled up beside you. “You didn’t come here to share ocean facts, Tech.” You said after a moment. “What’s going on?”

“You’re right. I have another purpose in joining you.” Tech admitted as he sat down on your other side.

“Which is?” You asked leadingly.

“Hunter asked me to. He’s worried about you.” He gave you a chance to speak but you offered nothing, so he carried on, “From what I hear, you’re having difficulty sleeping due to nightmares. They are based around your confinement on Tantiss?”

You cleared your throat to buy yourself some time before you answered, “Yeah.” You brought your knees to your chest.

“Can you tell me more? Whatever you’re comfortable sharing is fine.”

You breathed deeply and peered up at the starry night sky. “Well, you know about Christophsis.”

Tech nodded. That was something he’d been told about on the shuttle back.

“Tantiss… Tantiss was different. I took beatings but they were a treat compared to that fucking droid. Hemlock did a much better job of getting the most out of that damn serum. It got harder and harder to fight it. He knew exactly what buttons to push.”

“I’m afraid I had a helping hand in that.” Tech said sheepishly.

You placed your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t blame you, Tech. Not at all.” You reassured him earnestly.

“Regardless, his methods would’ve been that effective because I told him what would work.”

You patted his shoulder to indicate that you really didn’t hold any of that period against him before you removed it and placed it back across your bent legs. You surprisingly found that you kept wanting to talk so you carried on, “I’d never be able to ignore him, he’d always be able to get in my head so, instead, I’d would look for things to take me out of it.”

“A reasonable response.” Tech agreed. The times when he’d resisted, he’d acted similarly.

You felt irritation rise in you. You’d been weak, how could he not see that? “He told me you were alive, and I used it as a way to keep pushing back against him. Omega didn’t doubt it and she only heard him say it once.”

Hunter had warned him about this before he’d left. He expected you to say things designed to make him reprimand you instead of sympathising with you. The part of ‘no emotion’ element of the Jedi Code was deeply engrained in you. Despite your affinity for handling attachment and genuine love for them, when it came to your own emotions, you had gotten a bit too good at supressing or dismissing them. “Years fighting in a war has a way of creating a certain cynicism- or realism- depending on your point of view. It helps with survival and enduring each battle. I may have gotten out of it but even I have to admit that the odds were slim. I called out the plan. I knew what I was doing, I didn’t expect to live, and I didn’t expect you all to assume that I had.” Tech easily explained away the argument. “I’m grateful for Omega’s optimism and hope- it is a wonderful quality of hers and it got me out of there and brought me back to you all-, but I never expected you to believe I lived.”

You couldn’t accept the fact that the people around you were okay with how you’d acted. Every night was a painful reminder of how you’d failed them. “What I don’t understand is why Tantiss is still affecting me in this way. I got over Christophsis just fine.”

“No, you didn’t process Christophsis. You were thrown into mission after mission and were left with no choice but to keep going. It is highly plausible that Hemlock’s own similar torture was harder to get through because it was a reminder of a traumatic time that you’d already experienced but not healed from. Plus, I don’t believe feeling the effects of torture has a time requirement.”

You sighed heavily, “You’re the second person to tell me all that.”

“Does that not tell you something?” Tech prodded but he did it gently.

“I guess.” You said through a weary sigh as you ran your hands through the sand to distract yourself. “I handed myself over to Hemlock though. I gave up.”

“The guilt you’re experiencing over agreeing to Hemlock’s terms is natural. You-”

“It wasn’t guilt. Not wholly.” You said, your voice so quiet it barely registered over the rhythmic lull of the waves.

Tech glanced at you in surprise, but you were keeping your head down, stroking Batcher’s snout- the dog seemed to sense your distress and had nuzzled closer to you. He allowed the silence to grow as he patiently awaited further explanation from you.  

You swallowed thickly as you went to speak again. “I was relieved.” You admitted, it was the first time you’d ever said the words out loud, and you instantly wished you could take them back. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you awaited the disappointed and shameful remarks from Tech.

“What were you relieved about?” Tech asked calmly.

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting. “Um-” You searched for the words to answer him. “When I was-” You broke off and started again and you found yourself being more honest than you’d anticipated. “When I was in that training room watching Hunter be tortured and I heard Hemlock say that he was going to do the same conditioning to Crosshair again and to Wrecker too… I gave him what he wanted. Throughout my time there, he wanted me to join him and that’s what I was prepared to do. But as I said it, there was a sense of relief. Finally, I could stop fighting him. The torture he put me through would end. And in the dream- nightmare- I keep having, as much as I hate what’s happening, part of why I can’t move to help any of you is because I’m just relived it isn’t me.” You visibly tensed as you finished speaking. Saying that last part out loud caused you physical pain and your stomach churned nervously as you waited for judgement. There had been a reason you couldn’t share this with Hunter. It sounded so selfish, so pathetic.

“I understand that.”

You angled your head to face him. It was your turn to wait for him to talk.

Tech took a grounding breath before he elaborated, “In my time imprisoned there, Hemlock wanted to know all he could about you all. He knew there would be a time where he’d have to face you all again. I didn’t quite experience the same beatings you took; it was always psychological. But whenever I showed willing to give him information, all I felt in that moment was a profound relief that the torment and pain would end. Granted, that swiftly became guilt as soon as he left but I couldn’t deny the respite those few minutes of me telling him about you all gave me. Now, did you only feel relief at it being over? Or was it relief that you could join him and do his bidding?”

You thought back to that time and realised what he was getting at. “No, it was because I knew if I gave him what he wanted, then at least they wouldn’t have to go through any more agony. At the time, imprisonment felt like the better option than becoming one of his operatives and experiencing that level of hurt.”

“Precisely. Your sleep is being haunted by the worst outcome. It’s praying on the flash of relief you felt and twisting it into something more than what it was. If you accept what happened and stop fighting it, it loses its power. You didn’t do anything wrong, you acted how you needed to. The only person that has the power to blame you is yourself. No one here does, sometimes it just helps to hear it out loud once in a while and it’s true. You resisted him for as long as you physically could. Those circumstances would’ve cracked anyone.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Is that how you did it?” You asked quietly.

“Well, I didn’t. Not always.” Tech reminded you, assuming you were referring to how he resisted Hemlock’s torment.

“No.” You released another deep sigh. “You seem to have settled here. You’re coping with it, and you were there for a long time.”

“I was in hell on Tantiss but not so much anymore. Being reunited with you all has really helped. Though I think if I had to watch any of them get hurt the way you had to, it would be different.” As he spoke, Tech realised why Hunter had come to him for this. He was sharing this part of him with you because he knew you were the only one that would truly get it. There was no worry of judgement, no worries of saying something too jarring. You would understand him just as he understood you. “I’ve accepted what happened to me and how I reacted to it but you’re the only one that knows those particular details of my experience. Phee and my brothers do not. Family helps with some of the burden but until you’ve had the unfortunate time of living it, their support can only do so much. We need each other it would seem.” Tech said with a kind look in your direction.

You widened your eyes at his openness. You were incredibly touched by that, and you didn’t take the lightly. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You asked a question, I merely answered.”

You shot him a look, “That’s not the only thing I’m thanking you for.” After speaking to him and fully unburdening yourself to someone who could only understand where you were coming from without the worry of saying the wrong thing or being too much, you felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You weren’t plagued by all the horrible and conflicting feelings that had followed you since Tantiss. You could breathe. You were free. You gently squeezed his hand as you said, “Thank you for what you’ve done tonight. For all of it.”

Tech shrugged off the thanks but smiled at you all the same. “We’re family, it’s what we do.”

--

You walked through the door to your home and took your shoes off.

Hunter walked out of the bedroom as he heard you come through the door. “Hey, how was your walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you just drank him in. You took in the way he leaned against the doorway, the book he was reading dangling from his hand. The way the soft linens of his sleep clothes framed his body. The way he’d still kept and worn the necklace you’d given him all that time ago. And the way he was looking at you with such deep care and affection, it made your heart clench and emotions clog up in your throat- you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

Hunter took your silence for upset. “I had to tell him. I thought-” But he didn’t get to finish his sentence as you strode towards him and embraced him.

You hugged him tightly. “Thank you.” You whispered.

Dropping his book and wrapping his arms around you instantly, Hunter rested his cheek on top of your head. He didn’t need or expect you to share the details of the conversation with Tech, he’d realised that you needed a different kind of comfort and that was okay. All that mattered to him was that it helped you.

You let the warmth of his soothing hold flow through your body, and you kept your voice hushed as you said, “I want you to know that it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you it all.”

“I know.” Hunter replied softly as he caringly caressed your back. He would not break away until you wanted to.

You pressed your face into the crook of his shoulder. Even though he had sent Tech your way, you didn’t want him to feel like he’d let you down or anything along that vein. “You did everything right. I needed you there… I still need you there. I can’t get through it without you but…” The words to describe just what it was Tech gifted you got lost and you frantically searched for them so he would know why you hadn’t just come to him with it.

The last thing Hunter needed or wanted was you feeling like you had to reassure him on the issue. “Sweetheart, all I wanted was for this to get easier for you. I know that there are emotions and parts of that experience on Tantiss that I will never fully understand- as much as that kills me, I wish none of it had happened to you or Tech in the first place but that doesn’t change the fact that it did. You needed more than a shoulder to lean on, and if Tech gave you that, then that’s all that matters to me. I won’t stop being there, whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

The wave of emotion came rushing back and tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found yourself pressing yourself tighter to him still so there were absolutely no gaps between you. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I love you, giving up is never an option.” Hunter murmured as he kissed the crown of your head.

“I love you too.” You croaked as you fought through the lump in your throat.

You stayed like that for a couple more minutes before you finally pulled away.

Hunter wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped your eyes. “Fancy an early night?”

“Yeah.” You said through a deep exhale as the exhaustion you’d been fighting with came crashing into you. “That sounds good.”

--

3 weeks later.

“How’s your pain? Anymore headaches?” You asked Hunter as the two of you wandered arm in arm through the main square. You had been keeping a watchful eye in the time that had passed but he hadn’t had any bad episodes of late.

“Everything feels back to normal.” Hunter replied. “And you? How are you sleeping these days?” From what he could tell, you were sleeping through the night but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t still there.

“No nightmares at all.” You said with a relieved sigh. The weight of what you’d endured was no longer keeping you down. It had no control over you anymore. You’d thrown yourself back into mediating again and that also seemed to help a lot.

You both walked in easy silence, smiling at the clones from Tantiss who had stayed and at the merchants shouting out enticing deals and offerings from their stalls as you passed by.  

“Although, there’s one thing I need…”

You glanced at him expectantly.

“Can you try it now? I should be fine.”

You hadn’t done it since settling down here in case it was too much. “You’re sure?” You double checked.

Hunter nodded. It was the final step to the normality that he craved.

You both paused and headed over to the side walkway of the colonnade that offered shelter from the open area. You reached out into his familiar Force signature, the connection you formed with it giving you an extra sense of security and warmth. How does this feel?

Hunter closed his eyes and breathed out a serene sigh as he heard your voice in his head, but it felt like everything finally clicked back into place. Then, he felt the gentle press of your lips against his. He reacted automatically and placed his hands on your waist as he returned the embrace.

“What was that for?” He whispered against your lips as you parted.

“It’s part of the check up process.” You murmured before you took half a step back to look at him properly, but you kept your arms looped around his neck so that he was still close to you.

Hunter gave you a fond smile. “Ah, of course.” He sweetly stroked his thumb along your jawline.

You shut your eyes and leaned into his touch.

“Are you happy?” Hunter asked after a few beats of silence.

You dropped your arms and looked at him in surprise. “Yes, of course I am!” You looked at him, worry furrowing across your brow. “What brought that on?”

Hunter awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. “I know things haven’t been easy since we arrived here. It didn’t get off to the peaceful start that I’d hoped for. I just want to make sure it’s still what you want and that you’re definitely feeling better.”

You were caught off guard by the emotions that caught in your throat. What did you do to deserve such a man? “I am very content and happy here; Hunter.” You took a hold of each of his hands. “I’m very content and happy being here with you.” You let out a faint, slightly embarrassed laugh, “I am very much in love with you, you silly man. Every day that I wake up beside you, every day that I get to come home to you and every day I just get to be around you is a day that reminds me that how lucky I am.” You removed your hands and lightly followed the lines of his face tattoo. “Are you happy?”

“Completely.” Hunter murmured as his eyes fluttered shut as he fell completely complaint under your touch.

“Good. Settling down here is what exactly what I want, things just weren’t settling down as quickly as I would’ve liked but it’s different now. We’re both doing much better, it’s a good thing.” You kissed his cheek and delicately brushed your fingers through the shorter strands of hair at the front of his head. I love you, that’s never changed, and it never will. Does that about cover everything?

“Almost.” Hunter said huskily as his own love for you overcame him.

Before you could question what he meant, he tugged you in tight to him and kissed you passionately. You felt him cradle the hinge of your jaw, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you granted him access without a second thought. You tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed yourself close to him. You allowed yourself a few minutes to just get lost in the pleasure he was giving you, but you remembered where you were and with a groan, you withdrew from his embrace.

It hurt you to pull away and from the way Hunter just insistently pushed you back against the stone column and carried on kissing and raking his teeth along your neck, he wasn’t impressed with stopping either. “We- we came here for groceries.” You hummed distractedly as you found yourself titling your head to give him easier access.

“So, we’ll get them tomorrow.” Hunter responded simply as he kissed behind your ear and brushed his fingers under your shirt and along the soft skin of your stomach.

“We have- have no f- food and-” You attempted to protest but now his mouth was doing wonderful things along your pulse point that was making you feel very lightheaded.

“That’s fine. What I’m in the mood for, only you can give me.” Hunter teasingly dipped his fingers just under the waistband of your leggings.

You forced yourself to get a grip before you were too far gone. “Get off.” You playfully shoved at his chest with an exasperated shake of your head.

Hunter inclined his head in surrender, “How about you shop, and I meet you at home?” He offered as he stopped his teasing and removed himself from you.

“Is this your bizarre way of just wanting to get out of a chore?” You joked, crossing your arms and feigning irritation.

“No, I just think that if I stay, we’re going to wind up getting done for public indecency and it would be entirely my fault.”

Despite his admission, you still saw a faint but lustful glint in his eyes and you knew he was envisioning precisely what would happen if the two of you remained by this column. And you knew both of you would decide it was worth the risk. You gulped as you hastily said before you lost control of yourself, “I’ll see you at home.”

Hunter released a low chuckle before he kissed you softly once more, the promise of what was to come still lingered behind the action despite his best attempts to keep it brief.

You took a few hesitant steps away him and then gathered yourself and went about your task- your walk brisker than before.

--

Hunter watched you before he moved out from the shelter of the pillar. He spotted Omega sitting with Lyana by the Maya tree. He called over to her.

“What’s up?” Omega asked breezily as she jogged over to him.

“Can you round up the boys and meet me at home? I’ll get Echo on comms.”

“How come?” Omega asked curiously.

“There’s a mission I’m gonna need all your help with. But it needs to just be the five of us.” He indicated to where you were making a purchase. “Think you can get Lyana to delay her return?”

“A mission? Then why can’t-” An excited gasp left her as she saw the silent but confirming look that Hunter gave her. They’d all been eagerly waiting for this. “Yes! I’m on it!” She sprinted off back to Lyana, chaotically relaying the instructions before she ran go find the others.

Hunter laughed to himself as he saw her enthusiastic departure before he hustled off back home and readied the comm channel for Echo. It didn’t take long for the clone to answer.

“You better be calling for the reason I hope you’re calling for.” Echo said by way of greeting.

“Think you can help me out?” Hunter replied with a validatory nod at the holoimage of Echo and he saw the way Echo’s shoulders lifted as he realised it was finally going to happen. Hunter had talked to them all about it in the days after arriving on Pabu and it had been met with an enthusiastic yet somehow still teasing response. It reminded him of how he felt back before the two of you officially got together, with the others just waiting for it to happen. He’d wanted to do it sooner, but your circumstances changed, and so he wanted to wait until both of you were recovered. And, whilst they’d all accepted his decision to hold off, they had been impatient for this day for both genuine well-being purposes but also because they wanted it for the two of you- his family were very supportive and insistent on him doing this. With things faring better, he felt comfortable doing it now. “I don’t want to take you away from anything urgent or-”

“Name it!” Echo said with a pleased smile.

Before he could get into what he needed Echo to do, he heard the door open. Hunter half-turned to see the crowd of eager and motivated faces made up of Omega and his brothers.  

All of them gathered round him and Echo’s hologram.

Hunter took a deep inhale and exhale. In a strange way, this was going to be one of the most important yet daunting missions he’d undertaken. “Alright, we don’t have long before she gets home. Here’s what I need…”

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia @justsomerandompersonintheworld

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[thealieninhiding]

The Katie McGrath Archives (WIP)

A repository of my ongoing digital archeology & archival work please contact me if you have anything to contribute and buy me a coffee if you value my content

message me if you want a link to her complete filmography 🤫

Updates

(last updated 2024-07-03)

2024-07-03

Scans:

2014-02-07 London Times - Dracula sets

Audio:

(Un)likeminded 2x02 How to Survive The Apocalypse

2024-05-24

Video:

2017 Katie McGrath interview [CW|KMcGsource]

2017 Supergirl Season 3 Sweet dreams (are made of this) Music Video

2017 CW SDCC Promo Supergirl and Arrow

2019-01-01 The CW Promo Open To All

2021-04-25 Supergirl Season 6 Katie McGrath Lena Luthor

2021-09-15 Supergirl Season 6 Katie McGrath Reflecting on Supergirl

2024-05-22

Audio:

Interview - 2009-07-17 Katie McGrath Mr Media interview

Interview - 2009-10-15 Geek Syndicate Merlin BTS special

Video:

BTS - 2008-10-08 Blue Peter Merlin BTS

Events - 2009 TV Choice Awards Digital Spy interview

Events - Getty Videos of 2009 TV Choice Awards, 2010 Merlin Series 3 launch, 2011 W.E. premiere, 2017 King Arthur Premiere

2024-05-17

Archived interviews

2008-12-07 Tribune Magazine - What Katie Did

2011-10-14 What's on TV - Merlin's Katie McGrath- 'Bad girls have more fun!'

2012-12-03 Fanhattan Blog - Colin Morgan, Katie McGrath and Bradley James on Season 5 and The Series Finale

2018-08-01 The TV Junkies - Supergirl SDCC 2018 Interviews- Lena’s Impractical Lab Outfits, the Return of Reporter Kara and a More Grounded Season 4

Audio

HHush samples

Interview - 2009-2011 Sci-fi Talk rewind merlin the series specials episode 1

Interview - 2011? Merlin S4 Sci-fi talk byte katie mcgrath on morgana

Interview - 2013 BBC Radio 1xtra part 1 & part 2

(Un)likeminded 1x02 While You Were Dreaming

Trees a crowd- Irish folklore segment

Magazine scans

2008-09-20 Radio Times

2009-06-08 TV Week (Aus)

2010-09-05 Sunday Express

2010-09-30 Totally Merlin Magazine

2011-12 Total Film

2012-03-14 Sci-Fi Now

2012-10-06 Radio Times

2013-04-06 Irish independent

2013-09-02 Marie-Claire (UK)

2013-12 Instyle

2013-12 Total Film

Video:

Fans - 2012-04-16 Merlin4 [carlospyrrhus]

Fans - 2017-08-30 Supergirl cast together on set [Joyce Law]

Interview - 2009-09-?? Merlin S2 audio interview with Katie McGrath [BJsRealm] part 1

Interview - 2010-09-06 Merlin Series 3 - BBC Radio 1xtra Interview with Angel Coulby & Katie McGrath [BJsrealm]

Interview - 2011-10-14 Merlin S4 Colin Morgan, Eoin Macken Katie McGrath on The Late Late Show

Interview - 2012-07-15 Colin Morgan and Katie McGrath at SDCC 2012 - innerSPACE [merlinnetwork2]

Interview - 2012-07-18 Katie McGrath Talks Merlin At Comic Con 2012 [ThinkHeroTV]

Interview - 2012-10-25 BBC Radio 1 Breakfast - Colin & Katie part 1 & part 2 [BJsRealm]

Interview - 2012-12-03 Merlin S5 Katie McGrath interview international press day [BJsRealm]

Interview - 2012-12-03 Colin, Bradley, Katie phone interview [BJsRealm]

Interview - 2013-11-09 Katie McGrath on BBC One Saturday Kitchen [BJsRealm]

Interview - 2019-07-22 ENTREVISTA SUPERGIRL Elenco fala sobre a nova temporada [Warner Channel Brasil]

Interview - 2019-07-23 Melissa Benoist Teases Directing An Episode Of 'Supergirl' [ET Canada]

Interview - 2020-02-21 ‘Supergirl’ Celebrates 100th Episode [ET Canada]

Panels - 2011-07-28 Merlin Comic Con 2011 Panel [ThinkHeroTV]

[gojosbf]

"itadori-kun.."

JUJUTSU KAISEN S2 EPISODE 18

his little smile :(

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens: Season 2 — Special Advance Screening

Prime Video presents a special advance screening of the first 2 episodes of GOOD OMENS S2

When and where

Date and time: Tuesday, July 18 · 7:45 - 11:30pm EDT

Location: Green-Wood Cemetery 500 25th Street Brooklyn, NY 11232

7:45 PM: Doors Open and DJ Set Begins

8:45 PM: Screening Begins

10:15 PM: After-Party

RSVP DOES NOT GUARANTEE ENTRY. SEATING IS FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED.

IN THE EVENT OF RAIN, SHOW WILL BE RESCHEDULED AT THE SAME LOCATION. NO ALCOHOL IS PERMITTED.

*cries in 'europe'* :D

PLEASE DON'T SHARE SPOILERS FROM THE SCREENING ON SOCIAL MEDIA (KEEP IT ON DISCORD) ❤ 🐍😊

Whoa, screening 10 days before the premiere, that's... quite a lot. There might be others. I would like to ask everyone who goes... please could you keep spoilers from the two episodes contained... and I don't mean social media with tags (tho better than nothing :)) but the thing is that social media posts have tendency to circulate - even if you use tags properly there will be people who will take a screenshot of your posts and post it themselves without the tags spoiling others... I mean it would be brilliant if the spoilers could be kept just in discord servers with designated channels :).

Season 1 was coming from the book but there were added things - such as the cold opening and especially the twist in Episode 6. The premiere of Season 1 was on 31.5.2019.

The Season 1 Script Book tho was available days before the premiere - and with it the whole plot.

Some read it and knew the whole plot before it came out - and also there were some leaks - and some things were shared on Discord servers - using a spoiler tag for those who wanted to know. And... it was contained. People were happy for others to discover all of it by themselves and not post the spoilers on social media ❤. So... please don't share the spoilers until the season is out? ❤❤❤