#they are VIOLET IN FIRELIGHT. COME ON

[starstriix]

becomes a dog

waadles up to you

takes a chunk out of all your jo/brick drawings legs

walks off

QUIT IT!!!! 🤬🤬🤬

let me feed you instead

[pedroam-bang]

When These Walls Come Tumbling Down - Arcane (2021)

[honeybeefae]

7 Minutes In Heaven (Bat Boys x Reader)

Summary// After a night of drinking and a confession that friends should not say to each other, you find yourself on the receiving end of your three best friend’s wicked desires to make sure you are taken care of.

(Hoooooly hell this was a LOT to write and it took me so long but I am so happy with how it came out. 16 pages, 5K words, and I really hope you guys like this. This is obviously just pure smut but we all know that’s why you’re here. ;) Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Foursome, Double penetration, Spitting

The fire was roaring in the hearth while the smell of bread and wine filled the cabin air. Rhys, Cass, Az, and you were all sitting in a circle by the couch as you joked about old memories, the outside world seemingly far away as you took a relaxing breath and enjoyed the company of your friends.

You had come up here after your father had surprised you with an arranged marriage back in your birthplace within the Court of Nightmares. Despite your job with the inner circle he still felt as if he had control over you and you were lucky that Rhys had been there to swoop you away and hide you here.

It had been three days since then and you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. The four of you were as close as could be and you were thankful they had dropped everything to help you out and be a shoulder to lean on.

Four wine glasses lay empty beside each of you though none of you were drunk by any means, the conversation light and mellow as you reached for the half-empty bottle beside Rhys.

“So, Y/N,” Cassian began, smirking when you rolled your eyes at his prying tone. “Who were you going to be wed to?”

“Really?” Rhys deadpanned. “Do you have to kill the mood?”

“It’s okay. I know he can’t help his gossiping ways.” You say sickly sweet, drinking down the red liquid faster than you should’ve. “It was some friend’s son of Keir’s. A terrible man no doubt looking to climb ranks like the rest of them. And with me being the only daughter of my father, you know he was looking to make alliances to secure his power as well.”

“They’re all like that. It’s pathetic.” Azriel grumbled from his spot on the floor.

“The men are the worst of them all, treating us daughters lesser than.” You snort and lean back on your hands. “It just sucks that us women are caught in the crossfire of your pissing contests.”

“Our pissing contests?” Rhysand echoed, arching his brow as you waved your hand in the air to gesture vaguely.

“Men in general. It’s so much harder for us than it is for you when it comes to scenarios like this. You guys get to go and do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want, etc., while we have to be everything all at once lest we ruin our family image.” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head in irritation as you ranted to the group.

“If I were a man I wouldn’t have to put up with being treated as a mere breeding sow or a stepping stool to a higher purpose. I could take what I wanted.” They were all watching you with amusement as you crossed your arms over your chest, glowering. “For example, I bet the three of you never once got lectured on the importance of maintaining your purity for a woman or how to please them properly.”

“Well, no, but-” Cassian tried to interrupt but you raised to sit on your knees and snapped your fingers in exasperation, cutting him off.

“Exactly my point! It’s a sexist, ridiculous outlook on women as a whole. We shouldn’t be made to feel bad about wanting our own pleasure when you lot can take part in yours whenever you please.” You realized too late how you had completely derailed the conversation and glanced at your now empty glass of wine, making a note to keep it that way.

“You certainly have very strong feelings towards this subject.” Rhys pointed out, his violet eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic. Shall we join you in your celibacy?”

All three of them laughed and you felt your face heat in embarrassment. It was your own fault for making it such a big deal and you were starting to regret the ammunition you had just given them. You rushed to defend yourself from whatever picture they were painting of you. 

“I’m not celibate, I just-” You tried to get out, your voice cracking as you considered your words.

Three pairs of eyes stare at you as you clear your throat and straighten your spine, finding a small stain on the rug underneath you to focus on. “I mean that in the sense that you don’t have to feel obliged to do that since I’m not. I just think the issue needs to be talked about more.”

“The issue of your sex life?” Azriel quipped, grinning when you threw a pillow at him.

“No! The issue of the scale of men and women.” You retort with a flip of your middle finger. “Can we just change the topic?”

“I just can’t believe you’ve actually had sex with someone. What would your mother think, Y/N?” Cassian faked a dramatic gasp and you resisted the urge to chuck the glass bottle at his head. 

"Listen-” You try to cut in but your pleas fell on deaf ears as all three of your best friends started to gang up on your blushing state.

“You have had sex before right?” Rhys smirked devilishly. “Touching yourself doesn’t count, it takes two people.”

“Or more.” Azriel gave you a wink and you blushed crimson, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to regain control of the situation.

“Yes, yes. I’ve done it before with someone else.” You felt self-conscious even admitting to that and you could tell they wanted more details. Before they could even ask though you held out your hand to silence them. “Why am I in the hot seat? Can we move on to someone else? Or a new topic entirely?”

“Oh no, this is very interesting. I want to know more.” Rhys raised an eyebrow, shooting his brothers an amused glance as you shook your head.

“Well if it’s so interesting how about I ask you how many people you’ve had sex with, hm?” You challenged your High Lord, blinking in surprise when he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem telling you how many. What was it you said, we shouldn’t be made to feel bad about seeking our own pleasure?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as you puckered your lips in silence. “I would say at least thirty.”

“Thirty?!” You were shocked.

“If you think that’s scandalous you really don’t want to hear Azriel’s…or Cassian’s.”

“How do you even? Were you courting all of them?”

Rhysand snorted while Cassian and Azriel grinned, the former laying sideways and propping his head up on his elbow. “You do know you don’t have to be courting someone to fuck them right, princess? Sex isn’t magically unlocked by writing poems and delivering flowers.” Cassian teased.

“I know that.” You snapped, frowning. “I just don’t see why. It doesn’t even feel that good.”

The room immediately fell into silence and your body tensed. All three of your friends were staring at you, mouths open, with shocked expressions. You brought your knees up to your chest, a comfort action, as Azriel cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.

“What doesn’t feel good? Sex itself?” He questioned, watching you shrug. “How many people have you had sex with, Y/N?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You went on the defense immediately, knowing they would laugh. However Rhys held out his pinky for you to hook, his face serious as he promised you that no one would make fun of you.

You mulled over lying or not but you knew they would be able to tell. It wasn’t something you were proud of but you truly never got the appeal of it. A few girls back in the Court of Nightmares were constantly bragging about it but you didn’t get the desire.

“Two.” You whispered, wincing when Cassian almost choked on his drink.

“Two? Did you say two?” He said hoarsely, hitting his chest with an open palm to clear his throat. “How old are you?”

“Why does it matter?” You ran a hand over your face frustratedly. “Why is any of this relevant to our friendship? Yes, I’ve only had sex with two people. It was painful, lasted a couple of minutes both times and just left me feeling frustrated and used. I didn’t like it. Can we move on?”

They watched you and you saw their gazes turn from shocking to pitying. 

“So…no one has made you cum before?” Azriel whispered, voice tight as you closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“No, they aren’t supposed to.” You said as if it were obvious. “I was always told sex is for the man, to make a baby. It’s not really something that we enjoy but we just pretend we do.”

“Oh you sweet, summer child,” Rhys cooed. “That’s….that’s just cruel. And not what sex is at all.”

You felt agitated, embarrassed, and frustrated all at the same time. It was like they all knew some secret that you didn’t, that they were teasing you again. The night was not supposed to have taken this turn but you had dug this grave yourself.

“I’m going to bed.” You huffed and began to stand, grunting when Cassian grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down.

“I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable or anything, Y/N. It’s just that is a very…shocking thing to hear.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you glared at him.

“Are you telling me that you all care about the women you sleep with? That you make them cum every single time?” Your voice was tight as they looked at each other and then back to you, nodding. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Another pregnant pause filled the room as you watched them, their eyes darkening while they looked you over. There was a noticeable shift in the air, your mouth suddenly dry as you squirmed on the floor.

“Would you like to see it, darling?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as Rhys’s words reverberated through you. They all had the same look in their eyes, one of hunger, but you were convinced they were messing with you. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You laughed without humor, your eyebrows knitting together in anger. “You all are assholes for teasing me, you know that? I’m going to bed.”

This time it was Azriel who stopped you though not with his hands. Two silky, dark tendrils of smoke curled around your arms and held you on the floor. It made your breath hitch and goosebumps rise on your skin as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Az, this isn’t funny.”

“We aren’t joking, princess.” Cassian purred, one of his hands wandering to your thigh as he made his way beside you. “There are many things we would joke about but your pleasure isn’t one of them…and trust me when I say that we would love to help you out.”

“What-all of you?” You asked softly as your gaze moved across all three of them. “I don’t…I mean you are all very handsome, obviously, but don’t feel obligated to-”

Rhysand sat in front of you and grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, the former dragging over your bottom lip as you held back a moan at the contact. Azriel’s shadows were drawing shapes into your soft skin while Cassian’s hand seemed to drift higher and higher, all the attention making your head spin.

Your High Lord knew it too, a smirk working its way to his lips as he bent down until he was a hairsbreath away from your lips.

“This is anything but an obligation to us, darling. This is pure, carnal desire in its rawest form. A primal need.” His voice was smooth as silk, your eyelids fluttering as his lips moved to ghost over your ear. “A desperate urge to take care of you until you’re drowning in pleasure.”

“Look at her,” Azriel growled from your other side, his hazel eyes appearing behind Rhys. He had on a wicked smile, his head slightly tilted as he surveyed you. “She wants it so bad.”

“Do you, princess?” Cassian asked teasingly, his hand stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Do you want us to take care of you?”

“Yes.” You breathed, your sultry voice surprising you as all three of them pulled away and grinned. All of their warmth and comfort disappeared and you almost let out a whine, wanting it back desperately. 

“How about we make this a game?” Rhys asks his two friends, standing tall over you. There was already a noticeable bulge in his pants that your fingers were itching to touch. “Seven minutes in heaven?”

“Person who makes her cum the hardest gets to fuck her?” Cassian finished, licking his lips. “Gods, I need to go first.”

However, before he could grab you, Rhys hoisted you up bridal style into his arms. You giggled as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Go ahead and start the timer. I won’t need all seven.”

The bedroom door swung open and then quickly shut again as you were pressed right against it, his lips on yours before you could make a sound. It felt so wrong and yet so right, your fingers immediately running through his midnight black hair.

“Stars above, you’re so beautiful.” He grunted into your ear as he kissed down your neck, his lips latching onto your pulse point while he shimmied off your pants. “I could smell how badly you want this.”

“Please, Rhys,” You whined, his fingertips ghosting over the wet spot on your panties. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t answer you by words but by actions, as he pushed your underwear aside to rub your clit with his thumb. It made your knees wobble from how good it felt. One of your hands came up to grasp his forearm, your head hitting the door behind you. “Oh my gods, that feels-I feel…”

“So fucking good,” Rhys finished for you. He kissed you hungrily, his own cock straining against its confines. Two more fingers dipped down and circled the entrance of your cunt before he thrust them in sloppily, choking back a moan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his skin at the roughness of his motions, his upper lip curled as drank in every expression on your face. “Fuck me,” You gasped as a pleasure you had only read about overtook your body, those thick fingers curling each time they entered you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He promised. “I will never stop making you feel this good, never stop making you scream around my fingers. You’re mine. Forever.” His words were like ice to a burn as you felt a strong surge of ecstasy boil over. Rhys held you as you exploded around his fingers, working you through the best orgasm of your life with words of praise and soft strokes.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” You mewled at his tone as your pussy tried to swallow his fingers deeper. “Such a good girl. You did so well…”

“Rhys that was…I’ve never…” Your words were breathless as you watched him with hooded eyes, your lips slightly parted as he gave you a knowing smile and kissed you. It was loving and warm, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and you melted into it.

He threaded his fingers through your hair to deepen it, taking control, and just as you felt him start to rut into your thigh the door behind you shook with a pounding force.

“Don’t need seven minutes my ass! Time’s up, High Lord!” Cassian chuckled, his grin feline as Rhys opened the door with a glowering look. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”

“Just remember who just made your eyes roll back, darling.” Rhys purred into your ear before kissing your cheek, purposefully hitting Cass’s shoulder as he made his way back out to the living room. You tried to follow him with your eyes but Cassian was quick to step forward and make you step backward., your thighs still shaking.

“Was it that good, princess? Or were you just pretending for him?” He teased as he strode forward, making you retreat until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell back, your smile growing when the general appeared over you. “You don’t have to lie, I promise I won’t tell.”

“It was pretty amazing…” You sighed as he rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees at the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders before you could process what was happening and by the time you tried to squirm away, he had you pinned.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He growled as he gazed at your swollen cunt, your lips puffy and glistening. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess. Is it sensitive?”

Before you could answer he blew a cool breeze across your sex, making you jump. Cassian smirked and used both of his hands to spread you wide open. He leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it mingle with your wetness as he inserted one finger. “Gods you’re making it so hard to be gentle.”

“Then don’t,” You urged, your pupils blown wide in desire. “Treat me how I deserve to be treated.”

Cassian let your words sink in before he dove headfirst into your pussy, three fingers roughly fucking into your hole as he scraped the hood of your clit with his teeth. It was sensory overload and you bucked forward with a small shout, your hands immediately fisting into his hair as he ate you out like a starved animal.

Every nerve in your body had already been shot but this was mind-numbing pleasure. It had you crying out for more, fucking his face as his stubble rubbed against your thighs. He was no better as he sucked and fucked your cunt until he could feel you start to tighten around him.

You hated how fast you were cumming but you also didn’t know if you could hold it any longer, your cries to slow down falling on deaf ears. Cassian swirled his tongue up and down, side to side, making sure to not waste a drop of your excitement. He knew how to eat someone out.

“Cass, Cass-” You tried to warn him, shifting your hips, only for him to tighten his hold on you. “Cass I can’t. I can’t hold it.”

“Cum all over my face, princess,” Cassian grunted as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your body already falling over the edge of the abyss. “Soak my beard, fuck my face, use me to get off. It’s all for you.”

Whereas Rhys had been sweet, Cassian was a little bit of both. It made you yearn for more of his degrading praise and you quickly found yourself following his orders, your hips rolling over his face as you came loudly.

The door started banging again but you didn’t care and neither did he. In fact, Cassian was so lost in what he was doing he almost lashed out when Azriel appeared behind him. You whined when he was pulled back but quickly settled when you felt cool hands running over your body.

No, not hands. Shadows.

Your eyes widened when Azriel’s hazel gaze appeared inches from your face. He had a dark look and an even darker smirk as his shadows lazily rubbed along your skin, his hands gently pulling off your top.

“Did my brothers fully satisfy you or are you still wanting more, mouse?” Azriel cooed into the empty room, tossing the last of your clothing aside so that you were now bare before him. “Answer me.”

“I want more.” You gulped, drinking precious air as the Shadowsinger tilted his head in wonder. “Please.”

“Who taught you those manners, pet?” He raised a curious brow while both of his hands cupped your sensitive tits, thumbs barely grazing over your nipples. It was enough to make you squirm though which he was counting on. “I’ll be happy to give you more but I want you to beg.”

“Beg?”

“Beg.”

You faltered at first, not sure what it was he wanted to hear, but when he went to pull away from your breasts you ran with it. “No, no, please keep touching me!” You whined, groaning when one of his tendrils of smoke circled your clit. “Oh, Gods, that feels so good.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t fucking beg for it, Y/N. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want my fingers. How greedy you are for already cumming twice but still needing more, like the dirty slut you are.” He sneered, his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to just fuck you then and there. 

“I am greedy! I want more, I want it so fucking bad, Az!” You cried, desperate for his touch to grow stronger. He was keeping you on the edge. “I am a, fuck, I’m a dirty slut. I want you so bad, so so bad, please.”

“You’re a quick learner.” He smiled before bending down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth at the same time his shadows started stroking your slit. Your mouth opened wide in a silent cry of euphoria as he bit and nibbled his way over to your other boob, the pressure on your clit increasing with each second.

“I always knew you were dirty, mouse,” Azriel murmured as he gave a harsh suck, enjoying the way you arched into it. “Always knew this how you wanted to be fucked. Just look at this greedy little cunt, hm? Look at how it’s swallowing my fingers.”

You couldn’t see it but you could feel it as he thrust two fingers inside of you, the walls sensitive as he stroked them and found that special spot with ease. His fingers plus his mouth on your breasts was heaven as your head thrashed back and forth, your body desperate to just be fucked.

But he wasn’t going to give that to you. At least not yet. No, Azriel was focused on making you cum one more time. The tip of his tongue flicked over your hardened nub as his shadows came back to rub your clit, all of the stimulations becoming too much, too fast.

“Azriel, fuck!” You squealed as you came for the third time that night. This time you felt yourself ascend from your body, watching yourself from below as he worked you through it but didn’t slow down. “Ohhhhh fuck…”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He growled as he removed his fingers, smirking when your eyes had that glazed look to them. You whimper as he picks you up gently, shushing you, then turning to see Rhys and Cassian waiting in the doorway. “I think she’s done for the night.”

“No…” You mumble softly, needily. “I want you…all of you. Please.”

There was a beat of silence as they considered your state and each other before you were brought back to the bed and spread out for their viewing pleasure. You felt like you were cock drunk at this point, especially as Rhys pulled his cock out right in front of your face.

You wasted no time in bringing him into your mouth, your saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth as you worked his cock up and down. Rhys threw his head back and growled, the room seeming to shake before he grabbed a fistful of your hair to help guide you.

“If your mouth is this good I can’t wait for your cunt.” He laughed airly before moaning once more, watching as Azriel stood to your other side with his cock standing proudly. 

The bed dipped behind you and before you could blink you felt Cassian rub his cock up and down your folds, words of praise or prayer spilling from his lips as he sunk in inch by inch. It felt amazing and you pulled off Rhys’s dick long enough to moan loudly.

“Shit, Cassian,” You groaned. “You’re so big.”

“You’re just tight as fuck, princess. Gods, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He cursed, his fingers squeezing your hips as you whipped your head to look back at him.

“Make it fit.” You said lowly, your eyes narrowed in challenge which had him grinning. He gave you a shrug of his shoulders before pulling out and slamming back in, rocking your forward and straight into Azriel’s cock. He took advantage of the situation and forced you to swallow him whole, his biceps straining as you gagged and cried around his dick. 

“Look at you, look at the little whore you’re being for us,” Azriel said as you started to go back and forth between him and Rhys. Cassian was fucking you like a beast, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word and you never wanted it to stop. “You like being treated like this, don’t you? Like our own personal fuck toy?”

“You’re doing such a good job, darling.” Rhys’s voice soothed, your heart beating in your ears as you gazed at him. “Taking Cass so well. He’s close, I can tell.”

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” The Illyrian General growled as he pistoned in and out. You could feel him in your stomach as you closed your eyes and let yourself feel. “Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He ordered as he finally stilled in you, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as you hung your head in rapture. 

He seemed to cum forever and when he finally pulled out, you watched his cum drip down onto the bedsheets from just how much it was. Cassian smirked and collected the leaking seed onto his fingers, holding it out for you to take before Rhys snatched it and sucked it off himself.

Rhys’s eyes darkened at the taste of both of you and he quickly yanked you to him, lying back on the bed and positioning you on top. He helped guide you onto him and when you started sinking down, both of your groaned. The rhythm was soft and slow as you got used to his size, your hands coming to palm at your breasts until you felt a nudge against your asshole.

“Shhhh, relax,” Azriel’s voice shushed as he spat on his cock, lubing it up even more before he started to press into your ass. “Relax for me, mouse. I want you to take us both together. Can you do that?”

You nodded, a stupid smile on your face as you leaned back into him for support at the intrusion. It felt weird but the longer you waited, the more pleasurable it got. Soon you were rocking on to both of them in need, your sex hungry for more as they started fucking you at the same time.

It was a fullness you had never felt before but you don’t know how you could ever go on without it. They worked beautifully with each other, their moans mixing with yours as Azriel replaced your hands with his own. Rhysand watched from below, his violet eyes burning with desire as he pulled you down for a heated kiss.

They were fighting over you and it was driving you crazy. And just as Azriel went to pull you back to him, Cassian appeared at your side with his cock in his hand. It was already hard and leaking and you wasted no time in shoving him inside your mouth.  

“That’s it, that’s it,” Rhys praised. “Ride us, darling. Be a good, needy girl for us.”

“Our good, naughty little whore.” Cassian purred, choking when you took him down to the base. 

“Or just our whore.” Azriel growled as he smacked your ass, watching the recoil. “A whore we can use and abuse whenever we want.”

Their words filled your veins until you felt as if you were about to burst. You could feel a fourth orgasm coming, could feel the now painful clenching of your cunt, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had enough mind to pull away from Cassian’s cock before you let out a blood-curdling scream, your body collapsing on Rhys’s chest as you squirted all over them.

All at once, together, they also found their releases and followed you with reckless abandon. The sheets were soaked, as were the rest of you, as Azriel came in your ass, Rhys came in your cunt, and Cassian came over your back. You felt like you were leaking cum from every opening you had and you loved it.

You struggled to catch your breath as they all fell into bed beside you and Rhys, the smell of sex and cum permeating the room. Rhys’s soft hand stroked up and down your back lovingly while Cass and Az whispered praises. It was slow coming back down to Earth, to the three men who you had just slept with, and you realized that you never wanted to leave the room. Never wanted to leave them.

After a few minutes, you hear rustling before Azriel stands up and asks if anyone wants to shower, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when you sat up sleepily and said, “Second round in the shower?”

[cambion-companion]

I'd like to request a list prompt of Soft Aemond during Reader's pregnancy.

Soooo this one took a life of its own...stop reading like...halfway thru if you don't want smut/only fluff

Word count: 1583

Aemond x fem!preg!reader | breastfeeding kink | dad Aemond | they have a daughter already | fluff and sweetness |18+ only | High Valyrian

You sat with a sigh of relief upon the cushions of your bedroom sofa, holding the swell of your pregnant belly with both hands for support.

“Muña, look what kepa and I made together!”  The eager voice of your five year old daughter met your ears as she ran over to where you sat, placing a dragon miniature upon your knee.

“What a beautiful dragon!”  Despite your aching muscles you met the girl’s enthusiasm with a bright encouraging smile. “Have you given it a name?”

“We were considering Urrax, though Melysa wants to name her after you.”  Aemond, who had entered the room shortly after his daughter, smiled down upon you both. “I think that’s a great idea!”

A small hand touched your abdomen as Melysa felt for the familiar kicks of your baby. “What are we naming her?”

Aemond crouched beside Melysa, placing his own hand atop hers, his violet eye flicking to your face while his sapphire eye refracted the light from the fireplace.

You smiled at your little family, caressing the back of Aemond’s hand with your fingers. “You think it’s going to be a girl, Melysa?”

“I know…” Your daughter’s silver hair, so much like her father’s, shone in the dim firelight. “I’ve seen it.”

Aemond raised a brow at you briefly before kissing Melysa’s curly head. “You must help us come up with a name, then.  Only later!”  With a swift movement, he scooped her into his arms.

She shrieked as he tickled her sides, squirming to escape his strong arms.  Aemond relented, pressing another kiss to Melysa’s forehead.  Her lilac eyes gazed up at him in adoration as she gripped a lock of his long hair in a tiny fist.

“I think it’s time for bed.”  You said, shifting your bare feet closer to the crackling fire for warmth. “Passed time, in fact.”  Aemond agreed, shushing Melysa’s immediate protestations.

You rose, grabbing the dragon from off your knee and carrying it as you followed your husband and daughter into the adjacent room.  Aemond placed Melysa carefully under the covers of her bed, tucking her in and caressing her hair.

You sat at the foot of the mattress, leaning forward to place her small dragon in the crook of her arm.  You ran a finger down her smiling cheek.  “Goodnight, my love.”

“Sing me a song, muña.”

“Darling, not tonight.”

Melysa whined. “Please.”

You looked pleadingly at your husband. “Aemond…”

“Close your eyes, perzītsos.  My little flame.”  Aemond began humming a low, soothing tune.

You watched, entranced, privy to a scene only you and your daughter would ever see.  His voice was lovely, you closed your own eyes as the melody he hummed rose and fell.  You felt your shoulders relaxing, your clasped hands falling loose in your lap.

Soft lips brushed against yours and you opened your eyes, looking into the handsome angular face you loved so much.

“Come, my love.  Let me take care of you.”  Aemond took your hand, guiding you back into your shared chambers and sitting you down upon the sofa once more.

He knelt before you, his back to the fire, and moved your feet to rest upon his lap.  Aemond began rubbing small circles into the sole of one foot, a small gasp of relief escaped your lips despite yourself.

“Thank you, my dragon.”

“You are the one carrying our child, Y/N.”  Aemond tilted his head at you, a curtain of his silver hair falling across his shoulder.  “It is the least I can do.”  He pressed a loving kiss to your instep before moving to the other foot.

You sighed, leaning back against the cushions, closing your weary eyes as you allowed yourself to relax for the first time that day.  You began to drift off once more, only to be awoken by the press of Aemond’s chest against your own as he trailed featherlight kisses up your shoulder to your neck.

“Mm, Aemond.”  You turned your head lazily until your mouth found his.

He kissed you tenderly, worshipfully, savoring the nectar of your lips and the swell of your full breasts underneath his exploring hands.

“Come to bed, Y/N.”

“I could fall asleep right here.”

“That would be terrible for your back.”  Aemond chuckled, helping you rise from the couch.

He slid under the thick covers next to you, helping you shift pillows to support your round belly.  You snuggled in close to your husband, savoring his warmth on this chill winter night.  Your head rested in the crook of his neck, and you placed a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat.  

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed a pleased sound as you continued pressing lazy kisses to his exposed neck.

“I love you.”

He turned to face you, stroking a large hand along your abdomen as he looked into your face.  “As I love you, nuhys qēlos.”

“Mmm, what does that mean again?”

“My star.”

“Ah.”  You breathed, taking his hand in yours and guiding it up to caress your breast once more. “It feels good when you massage here.”

Aemond shifted onto his elbow, so he had better access to use both his hands.  He smiled mischievously down at you. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

You laughed with him, ending with a gasp as he squeezed your flesh a little too hard. “Softer, please.  Don’t get too eager, valzȳrys.”

“Very good.”  Aemond pressed his lips to the fabric of your thin nightgown, just above where his hands kneaded more gently now.  “You have no idea what it does to me hearing you speak High Valyrian, ābrazȳrys.”

He unlaced the neck of your shift, dragging the fabric down to free your breasts fully, dragging his fingers across your pert nipples.  Your milk had already wetted your nightgown at his administrations, and now beaded against his fingers.

You saw Aemond’s tongue dart out to wet his lips as he gazed down at your full bosom.

His dilated eye found yours. “May I?”  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the flesh just above your areola.

“Yes.”  Your breathing had become short, the exhaustion you’d been feeling momentarily forgotten. “I’d like that very much.”

Your breasts had become heavy from the milk they carried, though it certainly wouldn’t have crossed your mind to have Aemond help in such a way.

He was eager, however, taking your nipple into his mouth.  You encouraged him to take you properly, reaching to cup your breast in your hand, the back of his head with the other.  The feeling of his hot mouth around you, the tingling trickle of your milk letting down, sent a pleasurable warmth pooling in your core.

Aemond groaned against your breast, you could hear the intimate noises as he suckled and swallowed your milk.  Your fingers wound themselves tightly in his long silky hair as you moaned quietly, your head falling back onto the soft pillow. Your free hand wandered down your body, trying to reach your wanting center but unable to get past your pregnant belly.

Your body shuddered as Aemond’s warm hand found your mound, dipping his longer fingers into the heat of your essence.  He released your nipple with a pop, looking reverently up at you as a dribble of milk dripped off his chin onto your heaving chest.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, the lewd sight of him so disheveled and vulnerable causing your swollen clitoris to pulse with pleasure.

Aemond removed his hands from your slick folds, tasting your wetness upon his fingers, his eye closing in appreciation. “You are delicious, Y/N.  Every inch of you.”  He kneaded your other breast, pooling milk into his hand, lubricating his fingers with the filmy white liquid before returning them to the heat of your quim.

Your hips moved against his hand as Aemond attached once more to your nipple, drawing your milk onto his hot tongue.

You covered your mouth with one hand, stifling a loud moan as Aemond inserted two long fingers into you, scissoring them within the clenching walls of your vagina.  He pressed further against the soft flesh of your breast, sucking more of it into his mouth.

“Aemond.”  You whispered his name fervently. “Don’t stop, please.”

He made a sinfully low sound against you, thrusting quicker into you, crooking his fingers up against the spot that made your toes curl.  With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your cunt squeezing him as he continued working you.  Only when you begged him to stop, the overstimulation too much, did Aemond withdraw.

He placed his fingers, soaked with your release, against your mouth.  You obediently laved them with your tongue as Aemond watched. He licked his own lips clean of the remnants of your breastmilk.

With damp fingers he clasped your chin, moving to meet your lips in a searing kiss.  You tasted the sweetness of your milk on his tongue mix with the heady musk of your climax as Aemond deepened the kiss.  Your eyes grew heavy, looking lazily up at your husband’s flushed face as he pulled away. You reached for him, but Aemond stopped your hand when your fingers grazed his groin.

“Rest, nuhys qēlos.  I will wash you.”  He moved away, gathering a pot to heat water over the fire.

“What about you?”  Your words were slurred as you watched his movements sleepily.  

“I will attend to my desires later.”  Aemond grabbed a washcloth, dipping it in the warming water. “You are what matters right now.”

A languid smile itched up your face as you closed your eyes, feeling relaxed, your muscles warm and loose. “I couldn’t live without you, my love.”

Aemond looked across the room to your dozing form, the firelight shining golden upon his lustrous hair. “It is I who wouldn’t survive without you.”

[f4ll-for-you]

The Violet Dagger

Aemond x Stark! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut

thank you so much to my angels @arcielee & @raphaellathedragon for helping with this!!

Aemond looked around the room, sitting down on the furthest chair at the table, his legs crossed, goblet of wine in one hand, his other in a fist on the table.

Usually, he wouldn’t drink, he would leave that to his brother, who was currently nowhere to be seen. But tonight, he needed it.

He hated state dinners that his mother made him attend, he did it for her, of course. Aemond loathed how the lords around him behaved, drinking and making fools of themselves, whilst the ladies danced to impress their prospective suitors as if their life depended on it.

Until you.

He’d noticed you an hour or so ago, trying to ask your father if you could retire to bed, which he had denied. You sat on your own in the opposite corner, ignoring the old, fat lords that begged you to dance with them.

From the colour of your dress, Aemond could tell you were a Stark, the younger sister of Cregan, he deduced. 

What drew Aemond’s attention was the glint of a dagger he could see under the table as you played with it. Passing the time by practicing your knife skills, something your parents would definitely disapprove of. 

You didn’t even notice Aemond’s gaze on you for a while, too busy focusing on twiddling your fingers around the small, violet dagger. 

Eventually, he made his way across the room, to sit opposite you. You did not look up and instead sighed, thinking another half wit lord had come to attempt to seduce you.

“I’m sorry my lord, but I am not interested,” you say without even looking up. 

“I believe it’s my prince to you,” Aemond states and you look up in shock. “Oh, I’m sorry my Prince…I…I did not realise,” you blushed as Aemond chuckled.

“You looked like you needed…company,” Aemond said quietly. “I can help you keep those lords off your back, if you like.”

You looked up at him, confused, why would he help you?

“I would appreciate that, my prince,” you smiled at him.

“In exchange,” he almost interrupted you, “show me that dagger, it looks…beautiful.”

You turned red, you had been caught. If your parents found out…

“Not here, my prince, it is not…ladylike,” you whisper.

“Come with me then,” Aemond stands up, holding out a hand. 

You look around at the room filled with people. “They are too drunk to notice,” Aemond says, almost reading your mind.

He leads you out of the grand room and into the darkened hallway, you follow behind him, attempting to exude the same confidence he did. Eventually, Aemond stops at the large oak doors, taking you to his favorite place. As he opens them, a glimmer of golden light falls into the corridor. The library is full of Targaryen history and golden in the firelight, the shelves a rainbow of book spines.

Aemond sits down in a large red chair, you could tell he was finally in a place he could fully be himself. Nervously, you sat opposite him, taking out the dagger from a pocket you had made in your dress. 

You hand it to him and he takes the dagger as if it is gold, gliding it through his hands as the firelight twinkles on the jewelled handle. “It is truly very pretty my lady, as are you,” Aemond speaks confidently, making you blush. 

“What would a prince want with a young Stark lady like myself?” You ask, trying to once again seem confident. 

“I like interesting people,” is all he replies with.

“You find me…interesting?” You ask, looking up at him, he doesn’t meet your eyes, still staring down at the small knife.

He ignores your question, asking one of his own. “Why would a lady need such a thing?” He asks.

“To protect myself,” you state, honestly. “There have been many encounters where men have tried to steal my virtue to discredit my father, I would not let such a thing happen to my family.”

Aemond looks up at you, reading your expression and feeling your pain, your need to protect your family. 

“I could protect you,” he blurts out without thinking. “…I mean, if you are to stay here, I could make sure that you have guards to protect you,” he tries to recover his moment of weakness. 

When he saw you in that room, alone, he knew you were like him. You didn’t care for the drinking or the dutiful dinners, you cared about people, about doing things correctly.

“I’d like that,” you respond, smiling. As you moved to take the dagger back from him, your hands touched, like a spark igniting between the two of you.

“I could show you some tricks with the dagger if you want,” he replied as you took it. You twiddled the silver between your fingers, the twirl of silver and purple enthralling to Aemond. “You must carry one with you, do you not?” Aemond smiled, she knew him so well already. He pulled out a black dagger of his own. 

Aemond spent the next hour teaching her everything he’d learnt growing up, the best places to aim, clever little tricks he’d learnt. All she could do was smile at him in awe. They’d both felt like twin flames, two people destined to meet. Every touch felt like fire, making them both feel more and more alive. 

“Maybe next time I could show you some combat moves?” Aemond asked delicately, hoping it was insinuating enough to show how he felt about her. “I’d like that,” you smiled, standing up, “however, if I don’t go back soon, I’m afraid there will be a search party.” Aemond nodded, watching you once again hide the silver metal in your skirts. 

The following evening, you managed to sneak out from your chambers to the library, convincing the guards you needed to see your mother. Your long, dark blue dress flowed behind you as you walked through the door, only to find Aemond waiting for you, twiddling his knife between his fingers. He looked up, smiling as you walked in, standing up to greet you more formally. “My lady,” he bowed, always one for tradition. “Just call me Y/N, Aemond, it’s only us here” you smiled. 

He looked up at you, smiling back, slightly awkward. This was a side to Aemond you hadn't encountered until last night, the vulnerable, awkward, gentle Aemond and in all honesty, it was only making you fall for him more.

After a few more awkward moments, he finally proceeded to show you some combat moves he'd learnt, starting off with the basics. "Aemond, I'm not that delicate," you protested, knowing he was only showing you the easy stuff. "I don't think you are, Y/N, but you have to learn the basics first," he replied, seeing his younger self in front of him, the person who always wanted the biggest challenge, he smirked as he guided you into the next stance.

Before long, you'd both become close, you could feel Aemond’s short breaths against your neck, his lean, tall body pressed against your back. You lost focus, not listening to what he said, before tilting your head up to him, meeting his eyes. 

You both just looked at each other for a moment, Aemond taking in every inch of your features, your brown eyes, your dark eyelashes, the flurry of freckles that rested on your nose and before you could blink, he was kissing you. The kiss felt delicate at first, he was still worried about hurting you. You turned to him, cupping his face, moulding his lips with yours. Your reaction only made him hungrier, wanting every inch of you.

You both walked backwards a few inches, stopping when you hit the table. Aemond immediately placed his large hands under your thighs, lifting you up onto the table, bringing himself between your legs.

Breathless, he pulled away, resting his forehead on your own.  "You, my lady, are something else," he breathed, smiling.

Before you could reply, something in Aemond’s demeanour changed, he was needy, desperate, and full of desire. His large hands gripped your thighs before hiking up your skirts, desperate to feel the softness of your thighs.  His hand moved slowly down her body, between your legs, sliding his fingers over your centre. He slowly moved his head down, kissing delicately down to your breasts, snaking his hand behind your dress and unlacing the ribbons. One hand still between your legs making you fall apart more and more. You moved your hands into Aemonds hair, moaning his name louder and louder as he slipped a finger into you, gently moving in and out, growling as he felt the wetness of your centre. He entered another finger, making you squirm a little, not used to the intense feeling, "Shhh, I'm just preparing you," he whispered into your ear, only turning you on more. Panting between each kiss, Aemond pulled away, your dress now unlaced and easy to pull off, focusing every moment on your pleasure.  Kneeling down between your legs, Aemond gently kissed each thigh. "Please," you begged breathless, knowing what he was about to do. "Sorry didn't quite hear that, my love," Aemond teased. "Please Aemond," you moaned, desperate for him to do something, to come undone on his tongue. He began to kitten lick your clit as you pushed yourself further up towards him, your arms barely able to hold you up on the table. "Someone's needy," he said, his cocky tone vibrating against you, making both of you moan, his face still buried in between your legs. Noticing you were getting close to your release, Aemond pulled himself away, moving himself up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his warm lips. The usual controlled Aemond was gone, the need to feel himself inside you taking over. He undid his own trousers, positioning himself, ready to take you, to feel all of you. He knew he had to be gentle, but he didn't want to be. Aemond pushed himself into you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before moving, grunting at the glorious feeling of your spongy walls taking him perfectly. "Fuck, so fucking tight," he moaned into your neck, kissing you roughly now, his animalistic desires taking over. You moaned into his ear, making him moan in return, he couldn't take it anymore, he needed to be deeper. Aemond pushed you back into the hard wooden table, lifting one of your legs up towards your chest, gaining further access, panting and moaning into the crook of your neck. His hand reached down between your legs getting you to your own high, "Aem-” you moaned, the pressure of his rough thumb rubbing circles onto your clit and the feeling of him pulsing inside of you pushing you over the edge. "Fuck, I'm close," he moaned, kissing you, his tongue making its way into your mouth once more. After a few more strokes, he released himself inside of you, the feeling of you clenching around his length driving him crazy. 

Aemond looked up at you, your eyes heavy from your recent high, enjoying the visible pleasure he had just provided you. You both stayed in silence for a moment, panting, smiling. “That was-“ you began, “incredible” Aemond finished the sentence for you. 

[itryhardtomakethishouseahome]

Arcane characters saying "I love you" for the first time

Warnings~ none just fluff

Characters~ Vi, Jinx, Ekko

Summary~ You have been dating for a while but neither one of you has said the ‘L’ word yet.

Vi

When you and Vi were kids there was always something between you two and eventually you guys ended up dating. Mylo, Ekko, and Powder would tease both of you about it all the time. But that was a long time ago and things are different now. Everyone was different now. Powder became Jinx, Ekko went MIA, Mylo, Claggor, and Vander died, and Vi disappeared. You ended up working as an assassin for Silco so you could at least stay close to Jinx but that didn’t stop you from thinking about everyone you lost, especially Vi. 

One day you heard that some girl did a number on Sevika and decided to scout the streets from the roof of a random building. That’s when you saw her. You weren’t sure at first so you dropped down to get a closer look before walking up behind her.

“Vi?” You called cautiously while pulling your hood down. Vi and the women she was walking with both turned around. Her eyes widened as tears welled in yours. You ran up to her, wrapping your arms around her as she took you in hers. 

“I missed you Y/n.” She whispered before breaking the hug, her hands still on your shoulders. “I missed you too Violet.” A tear fell down your face. Vi smiled at the use of her full name as she rested her forehead against yours and cupped your cheek before letting all of her past feelings slip out.

“Come with us,” she begged. “I don’t wanna lose you again. I can’t. I love you too much.”

Jinx

You were on your way down to Jinx’s lair to drop off some materials for her projects when you heard an explosion. You ran as fast as you could to see what happened only to find blue particles wisping around and Jinx on the ground crying. 

“No! It was a mistake! It was a mistake.” She cried. You’ve seen her have episodes before but none like this. 

“Jinx?” You called, stepping towards her, dropping the box. Upon hearing your voice she ran into your arms and continued to sob into you. You held her as tight as you could, rubbing her back and occasionally shushing her. 

“It’s alright Jinx. You're okay.” You comforted her as best as you could but the voices in her head were too distracting. Picking her up, you walked over to the couch and sat with her on your lap, rocking her back and forth. You would stroke her hair, and whisper sweet nothings as she slowly stopped hyperventilating. 

“I’m sorry.” Jinx mumbled, her arms wrapped tight around your neck as she stared off into the distance. “You have nothing to apologize for.” You looked down at her before her eyes went to yours. She stared at you for a good minute before resting her head against your chest. “Why do you always take care of me?” She asked, voice raspy from the prior sobbing. 

“Because I care for you more than you’ll ever know.” You replied without hesitation. She fell silent for a few seconds.

“Do you love me?” Her voice was filled with caution out of fear of denial which confused you because you two were already dating.

“More than you ever know.” You stated as your eyes met hers. “Good” A smile grew on her face. “Cause I love you too.”

Ekko

After the Firelights mission on the aircraft, Ekko started to worry about you and your safety. Watching his people get shot left and right by Jinx really made him wonder if or when you were next. He would do anything to prevent that from happening even if you hated him for it. 

When the surviving firelights made it back to the hideout Ekko pulled you aside. Normally when he did this it was to go over plans for the next attack or simply for some quality time together but judging by the grip he had on your arm and how tense his muscles were you knew something was up.

“Ekko…what’s wrong?” No response, no falter in his grip or his stare. You hated when he ignored you, it made you feel like a small child and the way he looked at you was almost like he didn’t know what to do with you. 

“Well? What is it?” You were growing impatient. You knew something was up and it was most likely gonna end with a lecture. At this point you were just waiting for him to spit it out. He stared at you again for another five or so seconds before looking to the ground and sighing. You were surprised when he suddenly pulled you in for a strong hug.

“I just want you to be safe.” He admitted, resting his head on top of yours as you returned his embrace. 

“I know Ekko, I know-” “Which is I think that it would be best if…if you just stayed here.” He said hesitantly. You took a few seconds to process his words before pulling back enough to meet his eyes. “What are you saying?” Ekko sighed again, eyes roaming somewhere else before looking to you again. “Y/n I don’t want you on any more missions.” You scoffed and shoved him away as you turned to leave. 

“Look, you saw what she did to our people. That could’ve been you!” Ekko pleaded as he blocked you from the door. You tried your best to push him out of the way but unfortunately your efforts were in vain. You let out an annoyed huff before staring Ekko dead in the eyes. 

“I can take care of myself, I’ve survived this long haven’t I?” You honestly couldn’t believe that he was trying to keep you from missions. “This isn’t fair, you’ve gotten hurt before and so have half of the other firelights so why is it just me being benched?” You argued while resuming  your attempts to push him out of your way only for him to grip your wrists. “Because I love you!”

His words shocked you both. You looked up at him to make sure you heard him clearly. His eyes held pure surprise before he shut them and regained his composure. You could only stand there and wait for him to go on.

“I love you, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” Ekko whispered. His eyes were glued to the ground but you could see that he meant it. You walked up to him and gently lifted his chin. “Say it again.” Without hesitation Ekko took your hand in his and whispered.

“I love you.” You pulled him into a kiss to which he gladly accepted.

“I love you too”.

~

So sorry for the unnecessarily long wait😅 hopefully part two and possibly 3 will be out soon also I’m gonna try and expand to other games/shows (everyone stopped writing for Heisenberg so I’m just gonna take it upon myself to do so✨)

Feel free to repost! It’s much appreciated🫶🏼

[sailorshadzter]

just some jonsa because i MISS THEM.

Lost in the depths of her own mind, oblivious to the conversations happening around her, she wonders if things could have been different… Or if in the end, things would have turned out exactly the same.

She looks up and across the room their eyes meet, over the dragon queen’s shoulder. She’s seen this look before; smoldering, wanting, longing. But quick as it comes, it’s gone, his gaze returned back to those darting, violet eyes of Daenerys Targaryen, his ears listening to the words falling from her plump, frowning lips. A sigh escapes her, she cannot help it, as she returns to her own companion: a single goblet of spiced wine. 

The room is warm and full of laughter, but she finds she’s anything but happy. They had won, it was true, they had lived through the long night to live another day… yet… Another sigh and she drowns her goblet, pouring another before someone can come her way. The Night King was defeated and the war against the undead was won, but she wonders at what cost, considering all that they had lost. The thought of Theon is enough to dampen her eyes and she steels herself against the pain, against the heartache, hoping that with one more swig of wine she might leave it all behind.

Then, just like that, there’s eyes upon her once more. 

He cannot look away, no matter how hard he tries. She’s lovely in that scaled gown, her red hair twisted back in her ever familiar braids. He longs to run his hands through the red lengths, as he’s done before, the silky strands soft between his fingers. But… He’s kept from her side, laughing with Tormund and the others… Occupying the dragon queen... Every moment he spends without her is like a lifetime of despair. 

With every glance her way he hopes she might understand, that she might hear his silent pleas, that she might even just spare him a passing glance from across the hall. And then, to his delight, she’s looking his way, the goblet of wine she holds steady at her lips. “Jon…?” Daenerys questions, turning to follow his line of sight, frowning when she sees Sansa there at the head table. “Lady Stark certainly looks beautiful tonight,” she comments, turning back to Jon with a smile she must think will placate him… At least for the time being.

“She does,” he’s barely breathing, the grip on his heart she holds twisting something fierce. 

If only things could be different. 

[ x x x ]

When it’s hours later and he’s alone in his rooms, the knock comes, making his heart skip a beat. The dragon queen had already come and gone, so he cannot imagine who else would come to him at such an hour. But, he rises up from the chair he sits in, crossing the room to open the door, revealing to him the one person he wanted to see most. “Sansa,” he breathes, his lips curving with the smile he’s been dying to wear all night long. Her own lips curve with a smile, hesitant as it was, as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “It is late,” he observes and she winces, cheeks flaming as she glances over her shoulder, as if she thinks she might find someone hovering just behind her. “I thought you would be abed by now.” He goes on, realizing his mistake as she turns back to face him. 

“I could not sleep,” she admits, though she’s still fully dressed in that scaled gown.

“Nor I,” he says, taking a step back so she can slip inside, the door falling closed behind her. 

They’ve been here before, of course, standing in strained silence, both of them wondering just what the other might do next. Always torn between what was right and what they wanted more than anything else in life. “So…” She says softly, wringing her hands before her, blue eyes glimmering in the firelight that dances behind her. “We are alive.” For once in her life, she had believed with an utmost passion that things would turn out fine- Jon had never once let her down before, so she believed in him more than she believed in any god or man. “We are alive because of you.” 

Jon thinks for a moment he might open his mouth to argue- Arya had been the one to deal the final blow, after all. But then he thinks better of it, for despite his humble nature, he was the one who sailed for a foreign land to meet with a foreign queen to ask for help. And he knows better than to argue with Sansa. “Aye,” is all he says instead, watching her closely as she takes a single step closer to where he stands. She’s so close now that when he inhales, he catches her familiar scent: rosewater and lemon. “Sansa… I…” His hand reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, the softness of it reminding him of all the nights they spent together in the days before he left for Dragonstone. “I’ve missed you,” softer still, fingertips trailing the curve of her cheek. He has missed her while he was away, certainly, but he’s missed her while he’s been home, trapped in a world where his only role was keeping the dragon queen on their side. 

She smiles, her one hand outstretching to press against his chest, so against her palm she can feel the steady beating of his heart. “I’ve missed you as well,” she whispers, coming closer now, so close that when she lets out the breath she’s holding he can feel the warmth of it against his lips. “You know… Everyone in the castle spent what they thought would be their final night alive with who they loved most… Except for me.” Jon’s breath catches and he’s sliding his hands into her hair, uncaring of the pins he’s knocking loose. “So I thought I might spend my first night celebrating survival with him instead.” 

When her lips find his, he’s sinking into it, having never wanted anything more. He’s longed for this moment for so long now he cannot remember a time where he wasn’t wishing to kiss her, to hold her, to spend every last moment with her. “Sansa!” He gasps when he pulls free simply so they might catch their breath, laughing, grinning, brimming over with the joy and love he’s kept inside for all this time. “I have wanted this for so long…” He whispers and she’s smiling once more, tilting her head back to look up at him in a way she’s never done before. “Far too long.” She nods, for she feels the very same way. “This is what you truly want?” He thinks of the truth he knows and she doesn’t, wondering if it’s wrong of him to keep it from her even now, but she’s nodding and her arms wrap around his waist, warm and gentle. Suddenly it all makes sense, suddenly they are exactly where they’re supposed to be. For one single night, they could forget the world around them- no war, no titles, nothing but the two of them. 

Nothing but love. 

And so he’s the one kissing her now, drawing her in as close as he can, relishing in the warmth of her body against his own. He’s wanted this for so long now, since perhaps those earliest days back at Castle Black, when she had been little more than a ghost of who she used to be. Every moment had brought them here to this very moment, the place where they were always meant to be, even if it had taken all this time. It was worth it, every moment without her, every moment of fear, of sorrow, of pain, simply so they could end up where they were now. 

A short while later, when she’s tucked beneath his arm in his bed, fast asleep, Jon knows that this moment was worth waiting for. That this one single moment was worth everything it took to reach it and that no matter what happened after this night, he’d never give up on what he felt for her. He would love her like this until his last day, until his final breath, no matter what the world around them might think. 

He leans in, pressing a kiss against her temple, before he settles in beside her, content on staying there forever if the world just might allow it.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Nobody gets me but…

Chapter 10 of Moonlight

A/N- FROM NOW ON THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD!!!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, suggested sexual activities, fluff, talks of death, SPOILERS.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There he is, dancing against the firelight, smiling and laughing, curious about things he still has yet to understand. There you are following his lead, full of pride that he is almost a man grown, that he has learned kindness. You’re both there dancing, but only in your mind. He’s nothing but a spirit now, another star in the endless sky.

6 years apart, and then he’s taken after only days of being reunited. He was so sweet, there was no evil bone in his body whatsoever, but he’s gone now.

“Would you like to dance?”

You look away from the empty space in front of the dinner table and see Cregan standing over you with his hand out.

Dancing at this very moment reminds you of Lucerys, all because of those few seconds you danced at dinner. Hearing the music fill the hall took everything in you not to just burst out crying.

“It will help,” Cregan tries to assure you.

Mayheps he’s right, besides nothing good can come out of wallowing in your thoughts.

“Just one,” you give in, and then slowly place your hand over his to let him pull you to your feet with your gazes never wavering. As he takes you to the empty space those who had accompanied you for dinner go quiet, and you feel their watchful eyes.

“It’s just like when we would dance at the Godswood,” he murmurs as he places one hand on your waist and elegantly swings the other to the air. “Just you and I.”

You offer him a kind smile and nod while you begin to follow his lead to the tune of the soft music playing in the corner of the hall.

“You are marvelous in that gown,” he compliments you. “Even if it is a resused gown.”

You muster a small giggle and his eyes soften—“well yes I do look quite well don't I?” You tease and step away to continue dancing apart from each other. “Albeit I am quite cold now. You would think five years here would’ve taught me something.”

Cregan grins. “I thought the cold didn’t bother you,” he taunts. “You said so on your name day when you got the violet dress from your mother.”

He always remembers every detail. And he never fails to make you smile. “Well,” you sigh and shrug. “I’ll say summer snows are different.”

Cregan shares a breathless laugh. “They quite are.”

You want to add something about his appearance but then you slowly spin around him so you wait until you’re facing him to add on. “Here I thought men with long hair were rugged beasts with fleas.” You quote him. “Your words not mine.”

Cregan hums and shrugs. “Well, I've changed my mind. And you…you braided your hair.”

You smile sweetly. “Yes, a part of it anyway, I wanted to go for a more bohemian style. And well it’s easier to just maintain and what not.”

“Braids have always suited you,” he chooses his words wisely. “I remember when you came here for the first time, your hair was all over the place, had a mind of its own.”

You flash him a grin. “I was in my rebellious phase. It was a look.”

Cregan snorts. “Oh so what phase are you in now?” He taunts you.

You avert your gaze and think, albeit as you look away you catch the gawkers. Some people had joined you on the floor to dance, but the others sat and stared at Cregan and you and whispered in each other's ears. Perhaps it’s about the war that looms, or about him and you, or about him smiling when he hardly ever does.

Your families are already at war, if this were to get spoken to the Dowager Queen—

Yet…he did kill Lucerys. He did it, whatever the reason was; on accident or purpose he still did it. He hurt you in the worst way possible.

Yet…

“I think,” you cut off the conversation. “I need some air.” You offer him a feigned smile and walk to your brother without explanation. “I’m done with dinner,” you let Jacaerys know. “Good night. Be careful okay?”

Jacaerys glances at Cregan past your shoulder and then faces you with a confused and already protective look as he stands up and parts his lips.

However you don’t let him ask anything, you just leave. You walk and walk, feeling the weight of your grief, confusion and agony come crashing back after pushing it away for just a moment.

The outside air doesn’t help clear your mind though. Going to your chambers only helps by polluting more of your mind, by making the air in your lungs feel stuffy. So you walk out again and stride to the Godswood for some peace of mind, but the gods can’t even help with your anguish now. All you think about is Aemond, about what he did to Lucerys, you just feel the betrayal poisoning your heart. You still need answers, but in every corner of your mind all you see is Aemond killing Lucerys, by dragonfire, with a sword. You see him killing your brother.

It was driving you mad until you find yourself in the highest tower of Winterfell’s castle; in front of the single small window overlooking the grounds below, the gates and the lands behind it. You can see the stars, and even if the sky brought you sadness once before because of your father, now it helps, it’s the small solution you looked for.

That and quietly singing to yourself a song in a language people here don’t understand helped relieve your mind. It makes time irrelevant now as you can finally feel the chilly air unfurl in your lungs as well.

“You never told me you could sing,” the sound of Cregan’s voice startles you, causing you to jerk back against the open window. “Careful.”

“Seven hells,” you hiss.

“You have a beautiful voice,” Cregan says softly as he lets his eyes roam your face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you tell him as you exhale deeply. “I came to catch some air, to ease my mind. You’ll only cloud it.” You blink and look out the window again.

The sound of his boots heels click against the wooden boards as he walks to you. “I couldn’t dare go to bed with you being so upset.”

You sigh deeply and clench your jaw to avoid shedding tears at the mere sound of his soft voice.

“If there’s anything I can do—”

Fuck.

You abruptly stand up from your seat by the window and charge at him to then proceed and smack your lips against his.

His words were simple, full of pity, but he’s here and you’re hurting. Angry most of all.

But just as you expected Cregan cups your cheeks and pulls away. “You said no,” he rebuttals.

You meet his gaze that brewed like a storm and cup the sides of his neck. “I change my mind,” you put it simply. “Please, make me yours one more time. Please, my love. I miss you.”

Cregan leans forward at the sound of your soft words, but hesitates as his lips brush against yours.

You part your lips and wait with lust setting you aflame.

“It’s,” you pant. “It’s okay. I’ll just cherish the kiss I just—”

Before you can say anything else, Cregan pulls you in for a deep open mouth kiss.

“Gods, I missed you,” Cregan murmurs against your lips.

You smile and don’t wait a minute before beginning to tear apart all the clothes off his body. He kisses you more fiercely after whilst he slides his hands down your body to do the same thing you were.

The progress would be faster, but you can’t manage being a second without kissing. Once nothing remained though, he managed to pull away from you to look you up and down with a smirk on his face.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful,” he murmurs. “Have I told you that?”

“Once or twice,” you whisper before you push him to the bed left inside the tower.

Cregan chuckles and before long you both don’t stop making love until dawn breaks out in the sky. The sun had just barely set when you got to the tower and now it’s rising. And you probably should’ve left when you were done, but you were both too dumbstruck, too swept up to move or talk. All you could do was stay in each other's arms until the sun snuck through the window.

“This is new and something you haven’t taken off,” Cregan points out and lazily lifts your finger off his chest.

You glance down and notice that he’s mentioning the ring Aemond gave you. “Oh,” you mumble and awkwardly slide your hand off his chest. “Uh, it was a gift. Sapphire ring with pearls around the stone.” You smile. “It’s my favorite.”

Damn, now guilt and regret is beginning to seep through your mind.

“Well it is very like you,” Cregan points out, making you share a breathless laugh. “But I think I have something you might like better.”

You blink in surprise and lift your head off his chest to look down at him. “I do like gifts. What is it?”

Cregan flashes you a grin and climbs off the bed naked, and you smile softly as you see his bare behind. He then bends down to look through his clothes that were thrown on the floor. And when he does seem to pull something out, he hides it behind as he approaches you on the bed, heightening your curiosity.

“It’s perhaps not as shiny as your big glimmering ring,” he says and sinks the bed again as he climbs on. “But it’s something I know you love.” Cregan comes to a stop before you sprawled on the bed, and pulls his hand out from behind him to show off a single Blue Winter Rose. “For you.”

You push yourself up and can’t help your smile from widening as you take the rose from his hold. “Thank you,” you muse. “I love it.” You glance up at him and only share a brief soft look because then your guilt jabs at your heart.

“So,” Cregan presses and lays back down as you stay seated twirling the rose in your hand. “Are you going to talk about this Ser Jason?” He asks with obvious jealousy in his tone. “This man that gave you that pearl you fiddle with?”

You roll your eyes up and shoot him a teasing smile. “Well,” you give in. “He’s mine and Aerion’s sworn protector. The Queen thought it would be fit considering who my husband is.” You shrug. “He’s a friend—”

Cregan scoffs so you press your lips together and shoot him a questioning look. “What?” You ask.

Cregan sniffles and rests his arms on his chest to look as nonchalant as he can. “He’s not your friend. He’s your sworn protector. He works under you, he’s no friend. He talks to you because he has to.”

Your smile fades and you slowly place the rose down. “Well then I have no friends. My family is my family. You’re you, I have no friends.” You counter with annoyance.

Cregan pushes himself up and reaches for your hand, but you slowly pull away. “I did not mean it—”

“After I found out Aegon was crowned, that my grandfather passed and after I saw my sister die before she could take her first breath,” you scoff, “I watched the shore. Ser Jason didn't have to, but he spoke to me, he did. He talked about his travels, that he’s gone to Vaes Dothrak, Naath, all these beautiful places. He was the only one who tried to talk to me, tried to make me feel anything but my sadness. He didn’t have to, but he did. But I was a fool then.” You sigh and turn to climb off the bed.

“Y/N,” Cregan tries to stop you, but you just walk over to grab your undergarments off the floor. “Wait. If it’s company you seek, you need only tell me. I sent you letters. I tried to offer my condolences. You shut me out.”

You pull your undergarments up and sigh deeply before looking back. “If only there wasn’t so much standing between us, huh? Our lives would be different.” You snatch your gown off the ground and pull it up quickly, you then grab the blue winter rose off the bed and smile at him. “It was nice seeing you again Cregan.”

“Wait,” he interjects and reaches over to grab your wrist. “Just please stay a while longer.”

You reach over and caress his cheek with your thumb, you don’t kiss him again even if you have the temptation to, you just caress his cheek and smile before you leave him behind in the tower.

You didn’t get upset by what he said, annoyed sure, he has no reason to be jealous, you even hate when Aemond gets jealous. But this conversation gave you an excuse to leave, to make things tense for you so there’s not so much longing tension between you and him anymore. Your guilt and regret weren’t disappearing, they only heightened, so this was a perfect excuse to leave before you couldn’t and he just roped you in deeper.

——

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

“<Jacaerys, we can’t stay here anymore,>” you whisper to him sharply in High Valyrian so the passerbyers won't listen in. “<We need to go.>” Mostly because you can’t face Cregan a moment longer since that passionate night born out of anger, agony and betrayal.

Jacaerys glances around making sure no one is approaching before trying to argue against you. “<But you read the letter, we have to stay here a few days.>”

You scoff. “<It’s been a few days, mother needs us, I want to see my son. We’re still at war Jacaerys.>”

“I know that,” he interjects sharply in the common tongue. “Don’t you think I know that? Lucerys is dead because of them, I know we’re at war, but Lord Stark has not attempted to act even if he said he would, we need to stay, I don’t want to return home empty handed. But you may leave if you wish.”

You sigh to calm down to try and assure his insecurity that is not even right. “Jace,” you whisper.

However, footsteps approach, causing you to stop talking and look to the entrance of the Godswood. And of course it’s Cregan.

“Prince, Princess,” he greets the moment he spots you both.

You exhale and offer him a tight lipped smile before you avert his gaze.

“I've been looking for you,” he adds. “To speak on matters of battle.” His footsteps hit the ground as he approaches the both of you. “I’ll send bannermen soon. But I unfortunately cannot go as of yet. Winter is almost here, I need to attend to my people’s needs first before I ride off.”

Oh thank the gods, any more time here and you’ll probably combust.

“Very well then,” you let Jacaerys do the talking. “The Queen is grateful. But we do hope we will see you in battle Lord Stark, the men will need encouragement, and the Queen will appreciate your support.”

“Yes, I do plan to join as well. Once my duties are done here,” Cregan assures him.

Jacaerys let’s out a deep sigh and his feet shift before you feel his eyes land on you. “Well it seems you get your wish sister, we can leave now.”

“So soon?” Cregan cuts in with his own gaze on you too.

You nod and only spare him a quick glance before you speak. “Yes, well, our own duties need attending. I miss my son, the time I spent here has been the longest I have been away from him.”

Cregan hums softly. “Well, then thank you so much for traveling all this way, and give my condolences to the Queen. I know we will all see each other again even if it will be in the battlefield.”

You smile softly but keep averting your gaze—Who cares if you’re making it obvious to him that you’re avoiding him, it was a mistake lying with him, it’s not the same as when you were just promised to another.

“And thank you Lord Stark for your hospitality,” Jacaerys interjects and you know he’s smiling at Cregan genuinely. “For your kindness in our grief. Loyalty like yours and your peoples is truly a rare thing, thank you for that.”

He expects you to give your thanks now. Fuck.

“As my brother said, thank you Lord Stark, your loyalty will never be forgotten.” You bow your head and only meet his gaze to add one last thing. “Until we see each other again.”

Cregan nods and lifts his lips to a small smile, but you know he’s trying to understand if your emotions had softened after how you left things. He would ask and apologize, give you the comfort you seeked. However, the moment you broke away from your spot to walk to your dragons past the gates, Jacaerys didn’t ever leave your side. Cregan waited for a moment, but everything you needed was already packed on your dragon, and Jacaerys brought nothing with him he needed to fetch from inside. So he was just left wondering with apologies and sweet words left in his mouth, and he was also left wondering what would happen now?

Will you still send letters? Or would you just forget he exists?

All he was left to do with what he did have, was wait for a moment that your hands would touch one last time, but the only one who said goodbye again was Jacaerys. You just quickly looked at him as if you were nothing but strangers before you mounted your purple dragon. No last smile, no lingering stare, you just ascended to the sky, leaving him to watch your retreating figure.

You felt bad for it, terrible, but it was for the best because if you did meet him in the eye for too long you would remember that night, how loved he made you feel. You would think even more of your guilt for betraying Aemond. Because now besides your grief, confusion and anger about who killed your brother, guilt also made itself a cozy home in your mind as well, so it was better if you just left Cregan as if you were nothing but strangers.

Not like it helped though, you thought of it all the entire flight back to Dragonstone, everything was a constant battle driving you mad. You felt like yelling at the top of your lungs to relieve yourself of some stress, but Jacaerys was flying beside you. As you approached home, you felt like flying directly to King’s Landing to demand answers from Aemond, to ask him why it had to be him who killed Lucerys, why he chose to betray you in the worst way possible.

But, you don’t end up turning to King’s Landing no matter how much you want to see Aemond, you just fly home with your brother. And the moment Astraea circles the castle, all your thoughts drift to Aerion; how he was and if he was still here. You didn’t even bother waiting for Jacaerys to land or climb off his dragon, you didn’t greet your mother first you just beelined towards the children’s chambers.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t amongst his little uncles.

Did they come and take him and your mother didn’t let you know?

She would’ve sent a raven though. She would’ve…

Quickly, and with panic completely taking over every other thought you go in search of your mother. Thankfully you find her in her chambers.

“Mother,” you breathe out with no greeting, you just barge in. “Where’s Aerion?”

Your mother turns completely to face you.

“I went to the children’s chambers and he wasn’t there, nor is Vanessa, is he okay?” You ask before she can even attempt to answer.

“Yes,” your mother finally assures you. “Lord Corlys and the Princess Rhaenys have taken him to shore for a walk.”

You sigh in relief and turn to go to him. However, when you make it past the doors you turn back around on your heels and quickly rush to your mother to embrace her.

“I,” your voice quivers as Lucerys comes back to mind. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Your mother returns your embrace and presses a kiss on the top of your head. “You are not at fault. You are not your husband. Don’t apologize.”

You pull back and slide your hands down to grab hers. “Then I’m sorry for your loss mother….” You trail off as tears break out of your eyes.

Your mother sniffles as she holds back her tears and lifts her hands to cups your cheeks and wipe the tears off your face. “Thank you, my Sweet. I’m happy to see you back home, I worried.”

You offer her a kind smile and caress the back of her hand with your thumb. “I’ll come back. Okay? I need to see Aerion.”

Your mother nods and lets you go, letting you now return to your previous objective. But since the way to shore is far from the castle it does take you a dreadful moment, but it’s all worth it when you see the little head of silver-white curls. All you know now is happiness and utter relief.

“The Princess Y/N Velaryon,” Ser Jason announces, causing you to finally notice him standing guad of your son. You were so focused on the baby that you hadn’t even seen him. Now that you do, you can’t help but offer him a kind smile.

Ser Jason bows his head and breaks that nonchalant mask to offer you a faint smile.

“Princess,” the voice of your grandfather snaps your attention to him carrying Aerion. “It’s a pleasure seeing you back home.”

You smile at him and glance at his cane. “It’s a relief seeing you down here recuperating. How are you doing?”

“Everyday a little better thank the gods.” He says kindly.

You hum and drift your gaze to your grandmother. “It’s a pleasure seeing you too, grandmother. I hope your patrol went well.”

She nods. “It did. Thank you, Princess.”

You hum softly and finally focus on your son, noticing now that his eyes are wide with glee, and his lips are pulled to a beaming grin as he kicks his feet and reaches his chubby little arms out for you.

“Aerion,” you greet and close the gap between you to take him in your arms. “My sweet boy.” You hug him against you and take in his baby scent. “Oh how I’ve missed you,” you coo before you press a kiss on the side of his head.

Aerion squeals as continues to kick and squirm gleefully. You laugh at the sound he made and press another kiss on his head.

“The poor lad has been indoors all week,” your grandfather interjects, making you meet his gaze. “We thought he could breathe some fresh air, meet the sea.”

“Thank you,” you tell him softly. “And he does love the water, he falls asleep quicker by the sound of crashing waves.” You face Aerion and direct your question at him, “don’t you?”

Aerion grins and throws his hands on your face and just squeezes your cheeks.

“I hope he was well?” You ask and glance at the couple.

“He was,” your grandmother assures you. “He's a sweet boy. Sad a bit because he missed his mother, but you’re here now.”

You grin and playfully scrunch your nose at Aerion, making him squeal.

“Princess, I know this is ill timing, but with this war in play, and with me not the man I used to be,” your grandfather interjects in a much more serious tone. “I wanted to discuss the inheritance of the Driftwood Throne.”

Your smile fades and you slowly face him.

“Your son, the Prince Aerion, is a Velaryon just as much as he is Targaryen, he is of Laenor’s blood. Salt runs through the little prince's veins just as much as yours. Which is why I want the Driftwood throne to pass to him, I want him to inherit Driftmark after my passing.”

Lucerys had no children to pass his inheritance to, but there is still Joffrey.

“But,” you rebuttal. “What of my brother, the Prince Joffrey? He is a Velaryon too. He is next in line.”

You aren’t stupid, you know why they want Aerion to be heir over your brother, Joffrey is a bastard, you aren’t. So without turning a blind you are the only child born to Laenor Velaryon, making your son the only legitimate heir to Driftmark. They don’t want a bastard on the Driftwood throne, now that Lucerys is gone they can hand it to whomever they want without raising suspicion.

“He is too young,” your grandfather argues.

You scoff. “Aerion is not even one yet.”

“No, but if I were to pass next week Prince Joffrey wouldn’t be ready, you would,” he says and steps towards you. “You would rule as regent until Aerion comes of age.”

Regent?

“Your father would want this,” your grandfather continues. “I want this.”

The offer tempts you. The offer of power tempts you. You just want control of your life, that’s all you’ve ever wanted, if you were to be regent you would get a taste of it.

“What does the Queen say?” You bring up the other concern.

“It’s been approved by her,” he assures you.

You blink out of disbelief and glance at your grandmother for reassurance.

Without hesitation your grandmother offers you a small smile and that reassuring nod is all you need.

“Of course when Aerion ascends, his name will change from Targaryen to Velaryon so our line doesn’t not end.”

If you see Aemond again you’ll make him to terms with that change. Then again you know that he probably won’t fuss considering what is being given to your son. Yet one concern resides.

“With this war now in play,” you interject. “The sides are clearly drawn, and my husband fights against us. No matter how much he may love his son he will not abandon his family, and I…still have my duty to him, so I ask, if I were to stand beside my husband does that harm Aerion’s inheritance?”

Your grandfather sighs deeply. “No,” he answers without thinking. “At the end of this only one side will sit that throne, whether it be your mother or Aegon, your son will still inherit regardless. And if you were to stand by your husband tomorrow and you are regent, then I know you will fight for what’s right. You have a good and mighty heart, I know that to be true.”

You smile softly at him and then smile at Aerion. “You hear that? You are now the heir to Driftmark, my Little Dragon.”

Aerion coos before he shares a gleeful squeal.

“You accept then?” Your grandfather asks.

You meet his gaze with a small smirk and nod. “I do.”

——

*LATER*

Little time was spent resting after a long flight, Jacaerys demanded to know what had been happening during your absences. Most importantly he wanted to know what would be done for revenge.

“If we attack head first we lose,” your mother argues. “Daemon has taken Harrenhal without a fight, we hold the Riverlands like he wanted, we have that advantage.”

“But we won’t hold it forever,” Lord Staunton inputs. “Nor Can your sons death go unavenged.”

“No,” your grandfather interjects. “But now Prince Aemond will forever be tainted with the name Kinslayer, a worthy punishment for now.”

You sigh and lower your gaze, knowing that wandering stares drift to you, the wife of the…Kinslayer. They won’t dare judge you in front of your mother the Queen, but you know that your loyalty has been put to question.

“A son for a son,” your mother interjects stiffly. “Lucerys will be avenged, that is what Daemon said.”

You lift your gaze and narrow your eyes on her with terror that upsets your stomach. She catches your horror and quickly reaches for your hand before you can question the threat.

“Aerion is my grandson, he will not be harmed ever. Daemon knows that, and he wouldn't dare touch him regardless of who his father is.”

You hold no love for her husband, he promised that no one would touch Aerion, but that was before Lucerys died. What about now? He killed your father with ease, you know that, you feel it to be true. He’ll have no trouble killing Aerion, the son of Aemond.

“No one will touch Aerion,” your grandfather adds. “Not unless they want to make enemies of the Lord of the Tides.”

You quickly glance at him and try to offer him a thankful smile, but you notice his gaze is on your mother. He wouldn’t dare make any threats, she is the Queen, but his look served as a warning more so to her husband who wasn’t here anymore.

“Daemon may plot his revenge as he likes,” your mother says. “He will not touch Aerion, of that you can be assured of.”

You meet her gaze and nod in comprehension, but your worry still lingers.

“Reports have come from King’s Landing,” Maester Gerardys says. “It’s being said that Aegon threw a feast for Prince Aemond’s actions.”

Sounds like him. You don’t concern yourself with that though, it’s disgusting, but Aegon looks for any excuse to drown in his cups, besides Aemond isn’t one to really take joy in feasts.

“Ravens have come in from King’s Landing in your absence Princess y/n,” the Maester says and grabs the small stock of scrolls off the table and walks around the long table to hand them to you.

You offer him a thankful smile and don’t even have to ask who they’re from, the only who would write is Aemond.

“What of patrols?” Jacaerys asks. “How can I help?”

“You won’t,” your mother answers rather straightforward. “Neither you, nor your sister. You will remain here leave the patrols to others, there are still battles to be fought, you will fight in those.” That and she probably doesn’t want to risk your lives anymore than she has to now that Lucerys is gone. Yet you wish you could at least do something, sitting in silence will only let your thoughts run wild.

“What of the riderless dragons?” You bring up. “Have we found a solution for that?”

Your mother presses her hands against the table and sighs. “Dragonseeds,” she says. “It is no lie that through the years that the Targaryens have reigned Dragonstone, that those before us have fathered many dragonseeds. We will find our riders amongst them.”

“Even then will any want to risk their lives trying to claim one?” Lord Celtigar asks.

“No,” you input. “At least not without reward, a promise.” You sigh. “We can promise them Knightship, riches, even small lands, something that will make this risk worth taking. Of course they will only be granted it once they bond with one.”

Those around the table hum in agreement, it’s only Jacaerys that interjects in support. “Baela and I can spread the word, rally them here once they’ve volunteered.”

You glance at Baela beside you and share a supportive smile. Albeit it’s your mother who hesitates, but only for a moment because she knows that it’s a necessity considering her sons, and your own are far too young to even bond with one and fight at your side. “Very well then.”

The rest of the meeting is spent talking about strategy, and plans, tasks that needed to be done that you couldn’t partake in. Once it’s done you don’t wait to reach your chambers to read what Aemond wrote.

But you should’ve known, it’s all demands to return home, to stop what you’re doing and swear loyalty to Aegon. He writes of promises that you will suffer no consequences, he even offered his help in case you were for some reason captive. If things were different you would have swooned, but things aren’t different, instead you’re upset and in no mood to write back.

He hadn’t even mentioned what he did, but it also seems like he stopped writing after what happened. Will he forget about you again? Just like he did those years back?

It will make things easier, but now your heart is also too entangled with his not to care.

Ugh!

“Ser Jason,” you break your silence and peer back at the knight.

“Yes, Princess,” he answers right away.

You sigh and turn your head further back. “indulge me. If you had a partner at opposite sides of the war you’re fighting, what would you do?”

The silver headed knight lets out a deep sigh and glances down for a moment. “I suppose, I mean I don’t mean to trouble your mind, but I would stand by my wife. But if push came to shove and if she’s wrong I would stand my ground…Love can make us blind, foolish, but even still we can’t let it control or manipulate us.”

You blink in disbelief to his words as you hum in comprehension.

“Not that you should stand by your husband. Follow what you think is right princess,” he blurts out.

You smile at him and assure him. “I know what you meant, Ser. I’m thankful for your opinion and for your lovely words.”

Ser Jason mirrors your smile.

His words are kind, it reminds you of what you stand for even if it means standing against Aemond. Even if you still seek an explanation.

Now though, there’s something that still troubles you. The terror from before passed, but your stomach is still upset as if you want to puke everything out. Plus your head is beginning to ache now too.

Perhaps it’s stress? You need to lie down. Sleep for a day or two.

That would be nice.

——

*A COUPLE DAYS LATER*

“Princess a raven came from King’s Landing,” the maester lets you know.

You turn away from the balcony and take the scroll from him. “Thank you, Maester.”

Said man bows his head and leaves, letting you turn the scroll to see a three headed dragon mark the wax on the parchment. It's surprising that Aemond is sending you a letter after what he did, you thought he’d purposely forget about you.

“Do you want to know what your father said?” You ask the infant in your arms.

The baby blows a raspberry from his mouth and smiles at himself.

You can’t help smiling softly at him before you break the wax and unscroll the parchment in your hand. And as you predicted it’s Aemond. You recognize his impeccably nice handwriting.

“Y/N,

I write perhaps in vain, mayhaps you already know the tragedy that unfolded. I’ve been told that you probably had knowledge of what would happen, but I don’t believe those despicable lies, you aren’t cruel, you never have been. You might know now what happened, but I still write to tell you that Prince Jaehaerys was slaughtered in front of my sister Helaena…”

A gasp escapes past your lips, and it’s as if someone has taken the heart from your chest. Your shoulders stiffen, and tears don’t fret to cloud in your eyes.

“…The murderers were street rats, but there was only one person who sent them, Daemon. The same man who killed your father. I know that you probably never want to see me again, but I still wanted to let you know of the people you’re siding with.

Aemond.”

You blink repeatedly and even if you stand outside on the balcony it feels like you can’t breathe, the horror of what you just read leaves your mind clear of any thoughts. Everything around you blurs and no sound besides the sound of your blood pumping can be heard. And once again your stomach churns leaving you nauseous.

He was a child, he was a baby. And Helaena? Oh gods, the poor girl.

But him? He was just an innocent baby around the same age as your brother Aegon. How could they—how could Daemon do this?

Does your mother know? Did she not tell you?

Once again Daemon is proving to be a demon rather than a step-father, or a man you can trust. First your father and now little Jaehaerys?

Your mom told you that Daemon said he’d get revenge, but you thought he’d want to kill Aegon, Daeron, or Aemond, but the child? A baby?!

The greens may be cruel, they were cruel to your mother, to your siblings and you, but killing a child in front of their mother? They never did that. And how can you support that? Especially if your mother knew about it and did nothing to stop it.

Yet you can’t know from here, so before she can be surrounded by Lords wanting her attention, you give Aerion to Vanessa. “Get Wolf and get ready to leave,” you let her know.

Your handmaiden doesn’t question your command and nods in comprehension, letting you storm out and march to your mothers chambers with your letter in hand. Thankfully you find her there with just Aegon and Viserys. “Mother,” you greet coldly. “I need to speak to you,” you deadpan.

Said woman immediately reads the troubled demeanor you carry and sends the children away with her handmaidens. “What upsets you so?” She asks sweetly.

You swallow thickly and unroll the scroll, you don’t read the contents it has, you just glance at it with tears filling your eyes before you throw out your response. “Daemon had Jaehaerys killed. I just found out from Aemond. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your mothers smile fades and she blinks repeatedly in disbelief. Not to what you just shared, but the anger laced in your voice.

“I only found out about the boy passing just yesterday,” she says.

Yesterday?

“Nothing is to be done about it?” You ask as you watch her try to approach you. “He was a baby. Innocent to this war, innocent to what happened to Lucerys. Why are you not uspet?”

“I am, but what is done is done,” she says as she tries to grab your arm, but you step back in horror. “They killed Lucerys.”

“And it doesn’t matter!” You exclaim. “Then you kill Daeron, or-or Aemond, but you don't kill a child. He was a child, mother!” Tears roll down your cheeks and your heart begins to pound.

“I don’t like that he sent that order,” your mother interjects with just the same amount of disbelief over the way you’re arguing with her. “I know it’s wrong, but it’s done. Leave it be. Please.”

You press your lips together and sniffle as you nod to what she’s saying, but you still hold so much anger and resentment towards Daemon. “You’re not angry at him?” You ask a question that holds a lot of significance.

She sees that you’re upset, but she doesn’t understand what that question can lead to, so she answers truthfully. “Daemon has a mind of his own. I know he’s brash, I know your indifference with him, but he did what he had to do for Lucerys, and for us to win this war. I can’t be mad at him.”

Of course. Of course she can’t.

“It’s the same as when he killed father,” you mutter with your gaze averted. “You didn't care and married him anyway.” You lift your watery gaze to meet hers and wait for her response, but she hesitates for a second too long.

She seemed to have been angry that you dared say that to her, but it passes quickly and instead she fills with pity and this other look you see when she hesitates, a look that lets you know what you were so blind to before.

“You knew?” Your voice quivers.

Your mother finally steps forward and grabs your shoulder, you stand so stiff under her hold that you don’t dare move. You can’t.

“Daemon didn’t kill your father,” she tries to assure you, but it was too late. “It was Ser Qarl. You know that.”

You scoff. “Fine, let's say I believe it was Ser Qarl, but it was still him. It was still Daemon who ordered father to be killed, just like he ordered Jaehaerys to be killed. Is it true or not? Tell me please. Tell me the truth and I’ll stay here, I’ll fight with you…but if you lie to me I'm leaving…I-I can’t support what he did. Lucerys wouldn’t either. Please mama, tell me.”

Your mother swallows thickly and holds back tears of her own that begin to cloud her eyes. She then slides her hand down your arm to cradle both of your hands in hers. She parts her lips to speak, but nothing comes out for a second, she then licks her lips and leans towards you to whisper. “Daemon didn’t kill your father, he didn’t order anyone to kill him. That’s the truth.”

She lied. She lied to you….

No matter how much you love her, no matter how much your anger isn’t at her, you can’t stay and support what happened.

“Okay,” you breathe out and let her hold your hands for a few minutes as you try to think of a good farwell.

“I love you mother,” you assure her. “I need you to know that.” You meet her gaze and let your tears stream down your face. “None of my anger—at least not all of it is towards you. I promise to stay out of any battle that’s against any of you, I won’t side with them, whatever happens I want you to sit on that throne. You are my Queen no matter what is said…”

“Y/N,” she tries to stop you. “Don’t—”

“But I can't support what happened. That easily could’ve been Aerion, he would’ve done it without remorse. And I can’t stand here and hear you lie to me. I’m leaving.” You finish saying and just offer her one last soft smile before you slide your hands away from her hold and turn to walk out.

“Y/N wait!” She tries to call out, but you keep walking away.

As the doors open though, out in the hall stands your brother Jacaerys. He had heard your mother pleading, now he sees her trying to chase after you, he notices her distress and your tears and takes over for your mother in trying to pursue you.

“What are you doing?” He demands to know.

You let out a soft painful groan as a dull cramp radiates on your lower stomach, but you proceed to ignore it and just throw out a short answer. “I’m leaving.”

Jacaerys catches up to your side and presses. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t stand for what Daemon did, Jacaerys, that easily could’ve been Aerion,” you say quickly. “I can’t just pretend he didn’t do what he did either. And the fact that she lied about it. I can’t stay here.”

“You’re upset you’re not thinking rationally,” Jacaerys argues. “You need to just sit and think about it. You can’t leave, mother needs you.”

You finally come to a halt and face him. He hadn’t caught your actions right away so he comes to a skidding stop.

“Like I told her,” you repeat yourself softer. “She is my Queen. I won’t fight against any of you, but I can’t just stay here and pretend that what happened is okay. Jaehaerys was a baby.” You shake your head. “He was innocent. I want justice for Lucerys, but there was other ways. Other people.”

Another dull pain shoots your lower stomach, but you keep ignoring it.

“I won’t make mother choose between him and I,” you continue to say. “She needs him. I have to admit that, so I’m leaving.” You draw out a deep breath and continue towards your chambers. “I’ll spread a good word. I’ll do what I can from the shadows.”

Jacaerys footsteps echo on the stone floor as he proceeds to follow after you. “You aren't leaving this damn island,” he sneers.

You scoff and stop again, however, just as you turn and face him that dull pain hits you so sharply that it makes you lose your balance, it has your sight blur, and the sounds around you don’t even register in your head. Jacaerys rushes to your side the moment you began to fall, but you didn't even remember about him until he’s standing you up.

“Fetch the maester! And someone get the Qu—”

“No,” you cut your brother off. “She’ll just make me stay. Just leave her out of this. Please.”

Jacaerys gaze pierces in you, but you don’t change your mind, you still don’t want to stay.

“Fine, don’t alert the Queen,” he tells the guards. “But if I get scolded for this because of you.”

You let out a quiet breathless laugh and nod. “I’ll take the blame. You tell her it was me. I’ll be gone by then so what can she do?”

You make it your quarters and the moment Jacaerys helps you on the bed, Ser Jason rushes in with the maester.

“What happened?” Maester Gerardys asks as he studies you.

You part your lips, but Jacaerys beats you to answer. “My sister collapsed, I think she might’ve gotten dizzy. I don’t know. I heard her complaining since she left the Queen's chambers.”

You drag your gaze to Jacaerys and shoot him a pointed look.

“All right,” the maester says and approaches you. “Ser please fetch the Queen—”

“No,” you blurt again. “Ser Jason, stay your hand. Just help me, maester. You may tell the Queen after…she’s busy with other things. We’ll worry her about this later.”

The knight hesitates as he debates whether to listen to you or not. On one hand your mother is his Queen, and someone he’s sworn to, but on the other he is your protector, the guard she appointed to you, you’re also his friend.

“Please Ser,” you insist.

Ser Jason meets your gaze and then nods in agreement.

You shoot him a small smile before he turns and goes to stand his post outside the door, letting you once again drift your attention to the maester who didn’t argue against your demands.

“Tell me about your pain,” he says as he falls by your bedside.

You swallow thickly and recall what you’ve felt. “The pain was dull, it started when I was with my mother. We were arguing. It got worse after. It’s on my lower stomach.”

The maester hums and nods. “Any vomit. Fever?”

You shake your head. “No. I’ve felt nauseous, and dizzy as of late. That’s it.”

Maester Gerardys looks at you for a lingering moment as if he came to a realization before he shuffles back. “When was the last time you bled Princess?”

You think of the question and avert your gaze to think. “I…perhaps last month. Ever since Aerion was born it’s been quite irregular. But it was last month when I bled normally.” You glance at Jacaerys and notice his discomfort.

“All right, well may I?” The maester asks and points to your belly.

You blink and look down and finally begin to realize what this all can be about. “Yes, of course,” you whisper.

The maester gently presses your belly, he slides his hand to the side and presses harder, and your own heart begins to race as its all coming together.

All these weird symptoms have happened after you returned from Winterfell. Not before…maybe before? It has to be before.

“Now may I feel your breasts?”

You glance at your brother, and he quickly turns away to face the wall. “Of course,” you assure maester Gerardys.

The maester carefully feels your breasts. He doesn’t take long, but once he’s done he steps back and offers you a gentle smile. “Congratulations Princess, it seems you are with child.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t mirror his happiness. “How far along?” You ask in disbelief, catching Jacaerys own happy smile from the corner of your eyes as he turns to face the scene again.

Maester Gerardys sighs. “Not far. Based on your last bleeding, less than a month. A few weeks, it’s hard to tell now. I’ll check back in a few more weeks and be more knowledgeable. It seems you were just under a bit of stress, it affects the babe as well so early on. I would recommend relaxing, take it easy princess. Please.”

You still can’t help your smile as you nod in comprehension. “Yes thank you maester. You may leave now.”

Maester Gerardys bows his head and walks out. Once the door closes behind him, Jacaerys walks where you can see him and grins. “Congratulations, sister. That’s happy news.”

Except it isn’t. The baby can be Cregan’s, it all adds up. It’s been long enough for you to feel symptoms already even if it’s only been a couple of weeks. It can be his—

But it isn’t. It can’t be. You fucked Aemond the day you left, it can be is, you didn’t bleed at all while you were at Winterfell. It is his.

It is.

“I’m still leaving,” you brush Jacaerys off and climb off your bed to meet up with Vanessa, Aerion and your cat. “I can’t stay here. Especially not anymore.”

“Y/N wait just stay for tonight, sleep on it,” Jacaerys pleads.

You sigh deeply and turn to step towards him and grab his shoulders. “I love you brother. I’ve been meaning to say it since we heard about Lucerys, but I’ve never found the time. You are the best brother I could have asked for. You will make a great King, I know it. But you must understand my reasons. Please. I will stand down from every fight against any of you. I will pray for mothers success every night, but I can’t stay. Okay?” You wrap him in an embrace you need to comfort yourself over your new baby troubles.

“We’ll see each other again when mother takes the throne back,” you whisper. “I know it. Now goodbye and good fortune on all your battles to come.” You pull back and smile at him. “I’ll write if I can to let you and mother know how the babe is growing. Take care.”

Jacaerys looks at you with the need to argue more, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t want to stress you out either, so he just nods and gives in. “Fine, do as you wish. Just be careful. Swear?”

You shoot him a grin and nod. “I swear,” you promise. You linger in each other presences for a while longer until you turn around and head to the children’s quarters. Before you can walk in though, the shadow behind you speaks.

“Are you truly leaving?”

You slowly face Ser Jason and meet his gaze as you nod. “Yes…why? Will you stop me?”

Ser Jason scoffs. “No. You may do as you wish. I can’t stop you. I’m only your protector. I can’t advise you of anything either, not as your protector.”

Your smile widens. “And as my friend?” You probe.

Ser Jason lets out a deep sigh and his shoulders relax a little. “Go. If it’s your heart's desire then go. Regret makes for a conflicted soul.”

You blink in slight disbelief and find his saying very interesting.

“And you are too beautiful to deal with such troubles—“ he cuts himself off and his eyes widen as he seems to catch what he said to you. “I mean not beautiful, I mean you are beautiful I just meant—” he pauses and clears his throat, and you smile wider—“Your soul is too much of a precious and beautiful thing to be tainted by such darkness.”

Your smile softens and your face begins to grow warm. “Thank you, Ser Jason...” You pause and hold his gaze for a moment before you look down at your ring and smirk. “When we see each other again will you tell me who your father is? The curiosity has been eating at me.” You blink and meet his gaze.

Ser Jason snorts and nods. “Yes, I will. When we see each other again.”

Your smile slowly turns to a sweet grin. “When we see each other again,” you repeat before you turn into the children’s quarters. “Are you ready?” You ask Vanessa as she holds a sleeping Aerion, and has Wolf strapped to her back in a small wooden crate.

“Yes princess, we’re ready,” she assures you.

You sigh deeply. “Let’s go back to King’s Landing then,” you mumble quietly.

The baby is Aemond‘s, it has to be—no it is…it is his…fuck.

.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin

[mintywolf]

She can’t blame them for wanting to tear down the ivy from the barn. After all, it had tried to eat several of her friends the first time they had visited it, in the other here. But at Laudna’s insistence, they have left it climbing on the walls of the cottage. She likes the wild, overgrown look of it, and the reminder of the passage of time in its reach.

Chetney has repaired the roof, loudly decrying the state of the timbers all the while, and there’s now a fresh cover of fragrant heather thatching. Thanks to Orym the new window boxes are full of violets and petunias, and the flowerbeds beside the door lined with columbine and the long stems of purple and blue larkspur and hollyhocks. Fearne, in the shape of a mossy-hoofed water buffalo, has turned over one of the dormant fields to make a vegetable patch, and there’s an herb garden in progress by the kitchen door. Ashton has contributed a scarecrow in the gangly shape of the Nightmare King and evened out the cobblestone path. Imogen’s magic has determinedly cleaned the dust and grime of forgotten decades from the interior, and Laudna’s has mended what she could find to mend.

It’s surprising how much there was still there to find. A kettle left hanging on its hook over the hearth. Dishes still stacked in warped and lopsided kitchen cupboards. A blue and white quilt, mostly preserved from the harrowing of time, folded up in a blanket chest at the foot of her parents’ bed. A faded needlepoint Sun Tree in a frame on the kitchen wall. A rusted tea tin in the haymow containing a crow feather, two empty spools, a handful of mismatched buttons, a pewter unicorn, and other child’s treasures. A dented copper washtub and a washboard in the scullery, now home to a family of voles. A glass jar of marbles in a trunk underneath the rickety structure that used to be her bed up in the loft. Fifteen numbered markings on the kitchen doorframe, ending at her own height. Pegs on the entryway wall still waiting to receive the coats and hoods of the family who went out one winter night and never returned. It’s eerie, stepping into a place that has, like the rest of the world, gone on aging without her, but not entirely unwelcoming.

They clear out what she doesn’t want to save, or is beyond saving, and move around what she does, just so it’s a little different. With the kitchen table at a new angle she’s less likely to expect to see her mother there cutting apples, and instead able to think of Imogen kneading bread dough with her capable hands. Imogen framed by firelight as she reads on the couch by the living room hearth instead of her father in his armchair whittling. Imogen holding the other end of a blanket as they spread it out over the bed in the room that is no longer the place she would come running from a scary dream, but their own.

When the sun begins to set on a day of hard work they wave goodbye to the other Hells as they set off to return to Whitestone for an evening with the crew of the Silver Sun, docked at the skyport. Laudna wipes her work-grimy hands on her apron and takes Pâté out of the pocket, tossing him up into the air so he can stretch his wings. She slips her hand into Imogen’s as they amble around their farmstead, the late spring grass cool and dewy between her bare toes. Pâté bobs after them like a large and particularly ungainly bumblebee. In the soft-footed gloaming, beneath a sky the same color as her wife’s hair, everything looks both new and familiar at once.

(Read more on AO3)

And so I guess Remember Us is now complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following it for the past year.

💜🖤

[evelestrange]

arcane masterlist

navigation | masterlists

[*ೃ༄] - violet

i’d miss you | vi x fem!reader | word count:1.6k | angst(?) hurt/comfort

┊summary: After the kids conducted the raid in Piltover, the brawl brings out emotions neither of the girls thought they could have anymore.

i can’t love you again | vi x firelight!fem!reader | wordcount: 2.2k | angst, hurt/comfort

┊summary: Vi being held hostage at the firelights base turned to be one of the most eventful days she could’ve had by meeting her lost lover again, but when her girl can’t seem to trust her how will that end?

lost and found | vi x topside!fem!reader | word count: 1.3k | fluff

┊summary: After becoming curious to the evolution on what was across the bridge, you decided to find out what the nation of Zaun was like for yourself. Though, being an obvious topsider puts a target on your back. What happens when you meet a native pink haired Zaunite that could end up being more than just a fleeted meeting

finding love | part II of lost and found

┊summary: After the supposedly fleeted meeting with the pink haired Zaunite, you could not seem to shake the woman from your conscious. One night she comes to visit, apparently she was bored. One night turns into many more as the time flew by, becoming close friends.

Could it become more?

nothing stays lost | part III to lost and found

┊summary: The reader and Vi had been together for around a year now, only a few months short of so. One night when VI made her rounds to your house she pulled herself through your window to hear your parents having a screaming match with you. Over your childhood and how it affects you.

between these bars | vi x fem!zaunite!reader | word count: 1.2k | genre: hurt/comfort

┊(request) summary: You and Vi had been in love since your childhood. Vander’s kidnapping and horribly gone rescue mission had proved you two were never meant to be, as Vi and Vander were killed by the shimmer ravagers and you were caught under the ruble until Sevika had lifted you out. What happens when you’re years and years down the line, getting yourself thrown in prison to cover Jinx’s ass, you see a ghost of your past.

Only she’s not a ghost.

Part II : coming soon

her skin | vi x scarred!fem!reader | word count: 473 | genre: hurt/comfort,fluff

┊(request) summary: just an insecure reader and a supportive Vi

[*ೃ༄] - ekko

enough | ekko x fem!firelight!reader | word count: 1.5k | angst, hurt/comfort

┊(request) summary: You had been kept hostage be Silco’s scientist, for who knows how long. During a shimmer transport, the firelights showed up to intercept it. Only to find you with the cargo

are we too young for this? | ekko x fem!firelight!reader | word count : 1.2k | hurt/comfort

┊(request)summary: Being with Ekko in the firelights wasn’t easy, but it’s worth it.

[*ೃ༄] - jinx

coming soon

[*ೃ༄] - caitlyn

coming soon

[cambion-companion]

Comfort

“I feel like I will never be enough.”  Your breaths shook as you hugged yourself tightly, trying not to cry. “I try so hard yet make no progress.”

Aemond hummed a low sound in his throat, one large hand rubbing circles into the small of your back.  “I know whatever I can say will be of little comfort to you, Y/N.”  He placed a gentle kiss to your temple as you leaned into him. “You are enough to me; you always will be.”

“I’ve heard that before.”  You gave him a watery smile, the firelight reflecting off your eyes and lips. “Forgive me, Aemond, I’ve grown too accustomed to the worst-case scenario coming true.”

“I understand all too well, my love.”  His voice was soft, as was the kiss he pressed to your forehead.  

You sat together in silence for a moment, gazes drawn to the sparking flames in the stone hearth, the downy mattress beneath you, his warm touches easing some of the tension in your muscles.  Unbidden tears fell from your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as emotion welled and crashed within your chest as a stormy sea breaks against cliff rocks.

You leaned further into Aemond’s comforting embrace as his fingers moved to the dip of your waist.  

The orange firelight warmed your face, the woodsy smell of burning pine filling the room with cozy ambience.

“I will offer wisdom my mother gave me when I came to her with despairing questions.”  

You looked at Aemond as he spoke, his profile sharp against the darkened backdrop of your bedroom.  Your eyes trailed up his angular jaw, high cheekbones, to his violet eye still staring into the fire.

“She told me ‘We cannot control what happens to us, only how we respond to it.’” He turned his face to you, his long silver hair shimmering gold from the light of the flames. “You have the heart of a dragon, Y/N.”  He chuckled, his eye crinkling. “Aside from mine, that is.”  Aemond took your hand, placing it against his chest.  You could feel the beating of his heart beneath the thin fabric of his nightshirt.  “I believe you capable of overcoming all obstacles life throws in your way.”

“That means a great deal, coming from you.”  You spoke sincerely as Aemond wiped the evidence of your tears away with his thumbs as he took your face in his hands.  

“I am not a fickle man.”  He pressed a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You will have me until the day you do not want me anymore.”  

“That day will never come.”

“Well then.”  Aemond brushed his lips against yours, your breaths mingling. “Set aside your fears and let me show you how much I care.”

[sajirah]

The Prison Chapter Five

Dream A Little Dream of Me

It's creepy island time again! As always, you can read the new chapter here or on AO3. Cheers.

-o0o-

She was beautiful and vicious and his.

Her mind like the finest of wines. He could drink it. Swim in it. Let himself soak and luxuriate in everything that made her her until the stars burned out.

He adored her.

And he was terrified that one day soon she would slip through his fingers, unnoticed and unmourned. Taken from him by the wolves of this island who called themselves humans.

She didn’t understand.

He couldn’t lose her.

He couldn’t.

-o0o-

“Would you like that?” Rhys purred in her ear. They were in some sort of townhouse this time, lazing in front of a roaring fire while snow fell silently outside the window. “I would. I would like nothing more than to see you soft and safe and happy.”

“I’m not though.” Feyre was too much of a pragmatist not to point out the obvious. “Soft and safe and happy.”

Perhaps she was those things in these dreams…but what about when the sun rose? Rhys always seemed to disappear come morning and she never saw hide nor hair of him again until the sun had sunk below the horizon. And even then, it was only as the animals he would…inhabit? Possess?

His grip on her tightened reflexively.

“No,” he admitted softly. He sounded…pained. “Only as much as I am allowed.”

“Allowed?” Her brows furrowed.

“Amarantha’s curse does more than limit my freedom. It limits my…influence. My power.” She felt his fingers worry at her own like a nervous habit. “If I were free I could crush the minds of those creatures and spirit us away from here. Instead my power is relegated to the night.”

Creatures. He was talking about the other prisoners Feyre realized, shivering.

“Why only the night? What are you, Nosferatu?”

She thought of the creature from the film she’d seen with her sisters once, back when they had a few extra nickels to spare after selling some old jewelry to pay rent. Feyre had wanted to buy paint but she’d been outvoted by her older sisters who were desperate to cling to any vestige of their old life. Even if it was just seeing a film about a creepy monster man who burned in the sun at the end.

Rhys seemed amused by her thoughts.

“Nothing quite like that,” Rhys chuckled, reading her thoughts. “My power aligns with the night. Darkness. Shadows. Nightmares.”

“If you’re trying to give me a nightmare you’re doing a terrible job.” She said drily, motioning to the cozy room around them.

“No,” he insisted. “No nightmares for you. Never for you.” He said it the way a lover would. As if he could truly keep all of her bad dreams away.

If only he could do that for the waking nightmare that was her life these days.

“And that is why you must remain close,” Rhys whispered in her ear, playful and yet utterly serious. “I cannot help you in the daylight. If you stray too far who knows what would happen to you…”

It should’ve sounded like a threat. Perhaps it was. Mostly it just sounded like desperation to Feyre. But desperation for what?

“Okay,” she whispered back. “I won’t go near the beach.”

Rhys grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight.

“Good.”

-o0o-

Her dreams were growing increasingly more salacious by the day.

They were on a beach this time, the sound of crashing waves nearly drowning out her cries and the smack of skin on skin as Rhys drove into her mercilessly.

This had become something of a nightly ritual for them. She would fall asleep, he would spin together a beautiful fantasy for her, she would argue with him, and then they would fuck like it was their last night on earth.

Except for this night.

Because just as she could feel her release building to its crescendo…he stopped.

Feyre let out a frustrated moan, squirming and digging her nails into her lover’s back, but it was like he had forgotten she was even there. Those violet eyes had gone distant and glassy, staring right through her.

“Why’d you stop?!” She cried irritably.

He was only gone a few moments, but it felt like a lifetime before she saw his features soften and he rocked into her once more.

“My sweet girl,” he crooned into her ear as if nothing had happened. “So impatient.”

And before she could demand to know where he’d gone he hiked her leg higher onto his hip and thrust any and all thoughts right out of her head.

It was only the next morning that she realized what had stolen his attention away from her the night before. She very nearly tripped right over him on her usual morning excursion.

A man lay underneath a tree not far off from where she’d bedded down last night.

A dead man.

A very dead man.

She stared at him and all she could think was that he looked just like the dead animals Rhys brought her every night for her dinner. Creatures he could puppet and dispose of as easily as if he were slipping on an old shirt.

Perhaps the man had wandered too far into the forest. Gotten too close to a slumbering Feyre, blissfully unaware of his presence. Whatever had happened, he had paid the price for it. How many times had Rhys warned her to stay away from the beach? Clearly he wasn’t just keeping her from the other prisoners, but them from her as well.

Silently, she turned around and walked back the way she’d came.

-o0o-

She was in another dream again. This time they were on a boat. A barge really. It floated just off the shore of some harbor glitterering in the night. Feyre glanced sidelong at her perpetual nighttime companion as he pursed his lips and leaned more heavily on the railing. This was the part where he usually charmed and wooed her but he seemed strangely…sedate tonight.

“Are you alright?”

Rhys glanced sidelong at her with those strange purple eyes of his. Maybe it was just the dream exaggerating things, but they seemed to glow in the night, like a cat’s.

“I’m just enjoying the scenery.”

The words sounded hollow. Like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Yes, it’s a very pretty scene you’ve made for us tonight,” Feyre said wryly. Then added, “You know…I’d never seen the ocean until now.”

That seemed to finally pull Rhys from his thoughts.

“Really?” He said curiously, and she saw his eyes go unfocused which was always a sign he was rifling through her head again. “Hmmm…I suppose that’s true.”

“Is this a real place? Like, that city over there?” She pointed at the glittering harbor.

“Oh yes. The Summer Court. I’d only ever been there once. Before…”

She knew what he meant without him needing to finish though. Before the island. Before some witch had stolen his life and trapped him here forever. A thought occurred to Feyre then. Something she hadn’t even considered before.

“Where did she go?”

“Hmm?”

“That woman. The one who trapped you here.”

Those pretty lips of his twisted into a grimace.

“Amarantha.” He said the name like a poison.

“That’s the one.”

He was quiet for a long time. Then, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Feyre frowned. Maybe it didn’t matter to him, what with him trapped with her here on this god forsaken island, but it certainly mattered to her if some strange faerie woman with magic was out wandering the world her sisters lived in.

“Who can say.”

She let out a frustrated snarl.

“I do! I say! Where is this bitch? If I can’t know I need to at least warn my sisters! They don’t know there’s some crazy lady out there! I need to…I just need to figure out how…” she trailed off, realizing exactly how ridiculous she sounded. What was she planning to do exactly? Put a message in a bottle and hope the ocean somehow carried it directly into one of her sisters’ waiting arms?

Rhys gathered her into his arms and Feyre didn’t even bother to fight him. What was the point? This was her life now. She would die on this island and her sisters would remain blissfully unaware of the alien danger lurking somewhere in the world.

“I would take you from here if I could.”

They were pretty words. But meaningless. Neither of them was getting off this island.

“Not unless Amarantha herself marches here and allows me the pleasure of slitting her throat.”

She looked up at him.

“So…her blood will break the curse?”

“More or less.” He allowed. “But you have to know she will never come here. She’s many things, but she’s no fool.”

Feyre deflated a bit.

“So much for villains returning to the scene of the crime.”

They both fell silent after that but Feyre couldn’t help but feel something nagging her at the back of her mind. Amarantha…why was that name familiar?

Oh well. Not like it mattered now. She was sure it would come to her eventually.

[revelisms]

Excerpt: A Lifetime in the Shadows

Singed conducts a routine check-up.

From a work in progress set before Act 1, following the early days of Silco and his crew. CW: Slight body horror, eye trauma

Far beneath the black belly of the Pilt, the soured stench of decay clings to the air, like a fine dusting of spores powders the melted cavities of a rotted fruit.

Part of it is the runoff: city waste and molded river-roots and oil-smothered fish mingling to a noxious sludge at the river's arteries, clogging her sluggish streams to a rainbowed swath.

Part of it is the death, itself: boats, bodies, beasts.

She devours all in her wake, their river—and births out the strangest creatures, in return. They wear bioluminescent wings the heights of skyscrapers, and bare teeth thick as masts. They glow in the depths, with unworldly colors: blues sharp as lightning strikes, and greens brighter than beetle shells: electromagnetic violets, and sunbursts wild as flames.

This subject's eye, too, glows as vibrant as their own.

A curious reaction. 

In most cases, the rot eats organs from the inside out. Skin proves salvageable enough. With the right dosage, the extraction provides a regenerative aid against necrosis: a synthetic barrier laid between life and death. Still, the aftermath of the decay proves a ghastly sight. Areas devoured by the toxins are akin to a corpse repossessed: black-burned ribbons spilt from open wounds, bled like a bruise at the frays.

Nerves are one thing. Veins are another. But the eye housed in a velvet case of blotted flesh is ignited with life that shouldn't be: a spiteful blaze in a deadened fray.

A fitting contradiction, in its own ways.

"Describe what you see." Beneath his finger turns a gas flame, doused with copper sulfate.

Twin wings of steel flutter in his periphery: serrated edges, twirled to a glimmering snap. "Another child's test, is it?" Dry silence, dry as the sanded purl of that tattered voice, ebbs against walls bracketed in concrete. Beyond them, the river hums. The steel twists into another twirl-flutter-snap. "A green light."

His pen stills on a printed line. "Be more specific."

Another pause. "Green firelight, with a blueish taint at the bottom. It's a gas flame, housed in glass." The knife clicks open, stiffly; satins closed. "Sat it on that bloody table that screeches like a poltergeist." 

On his clipboard, a carving of notes: Normal sequencing. Clear form. "Distance?"

"Three meters."

He glances over the wire rim of his glasses. Across the room, a burning coal leers through a shock of black hair. Ink swivels into a short observation. "Your depth perception is still depleted."

The subject observes the blade he flicks open, with a wry disinterest. After a breath: "No improvement, then."

"So it seems." 

By the first month, he'd deemed the symptoms to have a high likelihood of permanence. Some patients took acceptance by the hand. Others fought it bitterly every step of the way: out of denial, spite, vengeance. He'd had yet to decide where on that scale this one landed. 

"I'd advise you to take precautions in low-lighting," he continues. "You should expect delays in your ability to react as desired." 

A shadow unfolds from its seat: the amber-glow striking away. The boy does not laugh. The scoff that bleeds through the stillness is close as it comes. "Rest assured, Doctor," he gravels, low as a scaled hiss from the depths, "the dark is no stranger to me. I've spent a lifetime working it, already."

He makes no move to counter that. There's nothing to deny it with, in any of its forms. So the doctor agrees, quietly, "So you have," and thinks, And so you will.

He pinches the lamp's knob beneath his thumb and forefinger. 

The flame snuffs to nothingness.