#this one is long and from Alice's POV

[henrysglock]

S4 Victims: Story by Proxy?

Okay so. In spitballing with Em...something stuck in my head.

So we all know how serial killers leave crumbs because deep down they want to be caught/want the truth to be revealed? Well what if the Duffers, or even current Henry, are doing the same thing. That is, leaving breadcrumbs.

This mainly has to do with the S4 victims, their stories, and the order in which they're chosen.

So, it goes like this:

Chrissy: Abusive mother who resembles Virginia

Fred: Eaten alive by the guilt of being responsible for the accidental death of an innocent.

Max: Suicidal over guilt about Billy's death and her response to it. Billy, who died saving her/while she was saving herself from the Fleshflayer, a regenerated form of the Mindflayer.

Patrick: Abusive father, not much else told.

Max (again): Suicidal Ideation, dies, soul taken, but was revived by El. She's now in some limbo-state, where her body lives but her identity/mind is elsewhere. She will likely be brought back entirely by El in S5.

It almost feels like a story by proxy if we piece it together.

So, let's piece it together:

Person with an abusive mother...feels responsible for the death of an innocent...a sibling who was killed while this person was trying to save themselves from a monster which came from Hawkins lab, which leaves them suicidal...and this person lives in a situation with an abusive father figure. This person becomes suicidal, and their suicide attempt was not entirely successful. They were revived by El, and end up in a limbo state. They may or may not be brought back by El later.

Now, let's collect details about our serial killer:

Abusive mother? Check. (No matter how we frame it, Virginia was not a good mother.)

Innocent died? Check. (Henry has nothing bad to say about Alice, which we know he would if she were not innocent, since he does this with every other victim.)

Sibling died as a result of saving oneself? Check. (The Creel massacre was a situation where Henry was, with whatever intentions we may assign for the other family members' deaths, trying to save himself from Virginia and by extension the lab.)

Ended up with an abusive father figure? Check. (Well...an abusive Papa, one might say.)

Brought back by El multiple times? Check. (El was the one who took Soteria out and brought Henry back from being powerless. El was the one who put Henry in the UD/limbo state. El was the one who opened the gate for his return to the RSU.)

IT ALL ALIGNS. So let's put it together with all the feelings involved:

Citations (I guess? Explanations?) are in the tags listed by number!

Henry had an abusive mother who was at least trying to have him shipped off to the lab, if not actually trying to kill him outright. This situation builds and builds, him wanting to be left alone (1), putting out subconscious and conscious cries for help (2), and her targeting him about it, until March 25th, 1959.

Virginia starts it, attacks, and this time she's out for blood (3). Henry defends himself (4). Virginia, being the parent with powers (5), doesn't actually die (6). Victor, Alice, and Henry go for the door (7). Virginia's on the stairs (8). She's got to finish what she started, since her original plan was botched (9). Henry puts his energy into trancing Victor (10), protecting him from Virginia, since logically two people can't occupy one person's mind.

This leaves good, innocent Alice to fend for herself, standing directly in front of the staircase. She's a loose end (11). Virginia kills her, but can't kill Henry or Victor while the trance is occurring. She figures Henry's going to run himself into the ground (12). She figures she can call Brenner in to collect Henry, like they planned (13). If she disappears, she figures it'll go into the news something like this:

"World War II veteran kills entire family in deranged fit of insanity. Wife missing, presumed dead. Son dies in hospital."

And on both counts, she's essentially right. It does basically go into the papers that way. Victor is taken in for murder, and Henry is taken by Brenner, but not before he sees that Alice was caught in the crossfire (14).

Henry ends up with Brenner, the abusive Papa. He's got the guilt about Alice's death, something that makes him sad and angry. Brenner, maybe, decides to push this in order to increase Henry's powers, but it backfires. Henry's powers increase, but he does...something. He lashes out, he snaps, maybe he even tries to kill himself. He's Brenner's prized pet, though, so Brenner can't let that happen. He seals Henry's powers away with Soteria. It's a death for Henry's entire identity, so far as to have him under the name Peter Ballard. Then comes along 011. She removes Soteria from Peter Ballard...and revives Henry Creel. She then exiles him to the Upside Down in 1979, only to eventually bring him back in 1983 when she opens the Mothergate.

All this to say: It could be his own story, told through the stories of his victims.

Breadcrumbs, or maybe...obvious things, which nobody by any chance ever observes.

Below the cut is where I speculate into motivations for his actions after Soteria's removal, so...not required reading for this particular analysis.

Years of MKUltra torture warp Henry's guilt about the situation into a bastardized, violent, brutal, unethical savior complex based in the notion that he's a predator by nature, but a predator for good. He "saves" the lab kids from a future like his own, filled with nothing but torture. He "saves" El from her ignorance about the lab and intended to have her join him, thereby attempting to "save" her, technically his little sister, from the lab entirely.

He "saves" his s4 victims from their guilt and suffering, which so closely mirror his own, which no one saved him from. I could even go so far as to say he was "saving" Will, who is set up to be so much like him, from a world of horrible people who (from Henry's viewpoint based on his lived experiences) would only serve to abuse and betray him.

This of course isn't to say any of it is right. None of it is right or good...but it makes sense. It follows a pattern. It coheres. The math...maths.

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.

this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.

🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.

⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."

📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.

🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.

❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."

💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.

🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.

✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.

🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.

🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."

🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.

🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"

🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?

🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.

🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."

🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.

Part 2

[violetarks]

I read your most recent post and am deeply sorry for this ask..

Could you maybe write chishiya x reader fluff? Like it's cuddles and words stuff like that?

"scoot over."

show: alice in borderland

character: chishiya shuntaro

summary: after a hard game, you decide to unwind. the hatter throws another party, but chishiya is only interested in finding out why you weren't attending.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov

a/n: no amount of apologies could atone to your mistake. (im joking, thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!!)

"well done." you hear your assigned partner for the last game, ann, say to you. she pats your back gently, fixing her sunglasses on her nose. "only a handful of cards left now."

you sigh out, craning your neck to relieve some tension, "thanks, ann. you too, you were great. i just can't wait to leave this place..."

she didn't know whether you speaking about the borderlands or the beach. the place was always loud and cheerful, and while that was a nice change in pace for the world they were in, sometimes somebody just needed some good peace and quiet.

but ann only removes her hand from your back, walking off towards her room. "i understand. get some rest."

a silent 'thank you' is said as you walk pass the atrium, looking down the hallway to see the crowds of people and hatter presenting the card you had just won and returned. everyone cheered, music starting up again as hatter claims another party is to be thrown.

to the beach! grab your towels and find some booze! it's time to celebrate another win!

you see the other executives standing behind him, nodding their heads and following to the party. but instead of joining, you rub your face and stifle a yawn. your room was further from the pools, so you could have some quiet.

sweat dripped down your back and you pull the collar of your summer shirt, trying to blow some cold air down your chest. why did the game have to be held in an open field, with no shade, while it was scorching hot. it's a wonder how ann managed to look so put together in such heat.

reaching your room was a safe haven, and you closed your door to flop onto your bed with ease. the promptly grabbed the remote and turned on the air conditioning, sighing dreamily at how the cold air hit your hot skin. it was almost too good to be true, how the electricity was still on. they hadn't checked on the generator in a while.

it isn't long until you hear the faint laughter and music coming from the party. it was a normal occurrence at this point, and you were glad that not many people partied inside the hotel. it gave you time to close your eyes and get into a comfortable position to sleep in.

there's a whisper of knocks at your door.

"who is it?" you groan, wiping your eyes.

the person replies, "astroboy."

you sit up, running fingers through your hair as you retort, "come in." chishiya marches through the door, closing it behind him. he crosses his arms over his chest as he studies you. "what do you need?"

"i just came by to congratulate the winner of the last game." he states, watching you crawl back under the first thin layer of blanket on your double bed, "the eight of clubs. always knew you were the trusting type."

with your back to him, you talk, "i trust you, don't i? that's risky enough."

"ann told us that you were the leader in that game. i'm impressed." chishiya compliments, coming closer and picking up the small teddy keychain on your beside table. you had found a ball machine and a broken one, so using the coins from that, you won yourself a blue teddy keychain. chishiya told you to just get them all, but you said one was enough. "i thought you would be down there celebrating with everyone else."

you shake your head, yawning, "i'm too tired to go out there. i'm staying in my room for the night to sleep."

"oh, is that so?" he hums, putting the keychain down, "i'm the same. i can't be bothered watching them out there in this weather. it's agonising."

you nod your head in agreement, laying on your back. chishiya was always a nice guy that you were close with. he was sarcastically smart and sometimes got on your nerves. he was lucky you were so fond of him, he would've been kicked out of here if it weren't for that.

"wanna' stay?" you ask, looking to the ceiling.

"with you?" he mumbles.

"no, we'll do a room swap—yes with me, idiot." you grumble out, turning around again.

chishiya grins at your tone before muttering, "scoot over."

you do so. it's silent for two seconds before he does lay beside you. you can feel the heat radiating off him, so close that chishiya could see the hair blowing in your face from the air conditioning.

"what's wrong?" he asks, looking to the back of your head. you reply that 'it's nothing', but chishiya isn't buying it. "you usually at least stop by at every one of these parties. common courtesy for you. are you that tired?"

you don't say anything to him at first, but then, you turn around and lock eyes with the blonde. chishiya is on his back, he sees how you knit your brows in irritation.

"do you miss home?" you question, playing with the blanket, "our real home?"

"of course, who doesn't? these games dwindle our numbers and we don't even know why we're here." chishiya states, looking unbothered by what he said, "it's a fascinating world, though."

"it's a prison." you mumble into the blanket. your knee nudges his thigh, and chishiya lays a hand on the pillow, in between the both of you. staring at his fingers, you reach out and put your palm over his, gently. "i miss home."

"what was your home like?" he questions, eyed tracing your every breath.

"it was quieter than here. i used to cook with the tv going on in the background so it didn't sound like i was alone and that somebody was in the other room watching." you claimed, closing your eyes for a second, "but it was also really nice being by myself. my friends used to take me out all the time because i was a 'homebody'. all i had was work and home."

chishiya chuckles, brushing fingers over your knuckles, "that was just like me. i only had my work. and i worked at the hospital more than i spent time at home. my apartment was a good walk away, so i saw no point, y'know?"

you let out a hum, staring at your hands, "if we lived together, we'd barely see each other."

he smiles softly, nodding once. "i guess you're right."

"but it's still nice living by yourself. cooking for one, cleaning for one." you comment, suddenly missing your bedroom and your living room and kitchen. all that you were surrounded by before. "i've never spent a whole lot on groceries either, only as much as i needed. you don't need to do more than yourself. and there's nobody else to worry about..."

you were so tired. you missed being able to sleep in and not having to go to bed early because you had a death-defying game to play the next day. you missed not having to think about your life to intricately. you missed your actual life.

"you wouldn't have to worry about me." chishiya says, and your eyes open to see the blonde looking back at you with certainty. his hand clutches yours warmly. "i wouldn't make you worry."

"you promise?" you ask quietly, knitting your brows.

"if you want me to." he tells you. your brows upturn. "i promise."

chishiya was the most normal thing about your life right now. someone who just likes to see you around every now and again. more often than he'd like to admit. but he was so warm and considerate.

a swift movement of yours has arms around chishiya's neck, hugging him close to your chest as your bury your face into his hair. he lets out a small huff at the action before hands rest on your hips, snaking to around your waist. the blanket nearly covers all of chishiya, and he feels your hot skin shiver twice before calming down. he rubs your back gently as your shoulders relax.

"when we get back, you'll find me?" you ask, hopeful.

he can hear your heartbeat grow faster. "you will." he responds.

"tell me about your life?" you request.

he hums, leaning back and facing the ceiling again. you scoot closer, keeping an arm stretched across his chest and laying your head on his shoulder. "med student. i work with patients requiring transplants and people on waiting lists, but i'm an all round." he explains, "my apartment is of decent size. i have a spare bedroom that i keep all extra storage in. my study is filled. i have to say, it is nice living alone."

you nod your head, and chishiya goes on, "i usually get breakfast on the way to work; just one sugar and a quarter milk, or sometimes i just get black coffee with two sugars." he can tell you're only half listening, from the way you're playing with the strings of his jacket. but he doesn't mind. "on my breaks, i go to this takeout place across from the hospital. they sell my favourite meat buns, i always buy at least two."

he taps your back, twice you note. and you look up at him. "when we get out of here, remind me to show you." he says, "it can be our spot."

you stare at him for a while before nodding slowly. "yeah... okay."

he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, muttering back with she unknown knowledge, "you'll come find me one way or another."

[hollisxwrites]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing, I was wondering if you could write a luke castellan x reader. Where she’s been at camp for a while now and haven’t been claimed. But most people at camp think she’s Hermes daughter which Luke hates because he has a crush on her. But she’s known the entire time, just wanted to stay in that cabin with Luke and everyone else.

"you've got to hide your love away"

not my gif or my song! all credits to the original creators.

luke castellan x fem! reader (lukes POV)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: some sexual innuendos (nothing explicit though), some crude language, kissing, another song fic! i'm sorry! premise of the first little section is luke denying feeling for the reader because the people at camp think they could be half siblings, but it's nothing weird so dw!

summary: the reader is incredibly close with the kids in the hermes cabin, so close, that she lies and says she has not been claimed by her godly parents yet in order to stay with her friends for as long as possible. eventually, she admits it to her closest friend, luke, and he is relived, as he is in love with the reader.

authors note: guys! i have reached 500 (!!!!!) notes on two works so far, and that has blown me away! thank you for all the request, i'm working on getting through all of them as we speak, and i am so excited to put out what i have been working on to you guys! this is a shorter fic and just kind of cute, so i hope you enjoy! keep sending request, i'm loving reading all of your thoughts about percy and luke! i am so thankful for this community. love you all!

My friends and I, Connor, Travis, Chris, Clarisse, Alice, and {reader} sat around a dwindling campfire on an oddly cold night in September.  A gentle wind blew, rustling the leaves around us, and sending the heavy smoke of the fire into the faces of Connor and Travis, making everyone sitting under the stars laugh at their dramatic performance of a coughing fits.  Everyone, that is, except for {reader}.  She always had a soft spot for people who seemed to feel unwell, even if it was for something as small as the brothers inhaling a little bit of smoke as a joke.  

{Reader} was unlike anyone else I had ever met, sympathetic, gentle, and kind.  Every time I saw her, I felt like my world was a little brighter.  Chris said I loved her, Connor said it was just because she is my “sister” through the camp, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the feeling was.  She had not been claimed by her godly parent, or so she says. Everyone believes that her dad is Hermes, since he is typically a deadbeat dad, and people say he is too lazy to claim her.  I guess their thoughts made sense; she had lived in our cabin for two years, so Hermes really had no reason to claim her at that point.  It shattered my heart just a little bit, as {reader} was so beautiful, a type of beauty that is unique unto her, something I feared I would never get to experience again.   I thought I would not be able to fully love her if she was my sibling.  So, I pushed back any feelings I could have for her deep down in my heart.  No one knew about them, and I hoped they never did, especially if she was my sister. I didn’t want to be seen as some kinky weirdo. 

The Stoll's finally stopped their theatrics, and I was able to look at {reader} for what felt like the first time due to the long day we’ve had.  Everything from counselor duties to training to hanging out with friends, I hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with her the days prior.  I watched her every move, and every moment she enchanted me.  Holding her guitar that I had gotten her from an Apollo kid for her birthday last year, she was picking out random chords, humming along to a song that I didn’t recognize.  Conversation fell silent amongst our group as {reader} started to play the chords she had been fiddling with in more confidence.  She sang along to the expertly played chords in a clean, clear voice that mesmerized me every time I heard her sing. When she reached the chorus of the song, she looked me in the eye while she sang, causing my stomach to erupt in fireworks.  Her eyes shone in the darkness, made even more beautiful by the fire reflecting off them.  

Gather 'round all you clowns,  

Let me hear you say 

Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away! 

When she completed her song, the Stoll's clapped, and then repeated her chorus loudly, skipping around the perimeter of the campfire, shouting like drunken sailors.  Typically, I would’ve joined in their antics, but in that moment, I couldn’t even speak.  {Reader} was so beautiful.  Maybe Chris was right, maybe I did love her.  She sat her guitar down beside her, and leaned up against the logs that we used as makeshift chairs. She threw her head back laughing at a joke Clarisse made, and her laughter was almost as beautiful as the song she had sung.  I could have sworn at that moment that my heart was going to burst out of my chest.  Something about the energy surrounding her made me admire her.  I couldn’t take my eyes off her.  

Eventually, when the moon was completely risen in the sky, and the Harpies were about to come out, my group retreated to our respective cabins.  After showering and changing, I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling that was plastered with plastic stars, there to comfort younger campers.  I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist that {reader} made for our friend group and exhaled deeply.  I had no idea what I was going to do.  That day had solidified for me that I was in love with {reader}.  Her aura was enchanting, enticing me every time she spoke.  I stared into the plastic stars for what felt like an eternity, when all the sudden, someone distracted me from my thoughts (thank the gods). 

“Luke?”  {Reader}’s sweet voice whispered.  “Are you still awake?”  I saw her figure standing next to my bed.  She was wearing a sweatshirt from her hometown and flannel pants that made her look warm and inviting.  Her hair was slightly out of place, and she looked frightened.   

“Of course I am, you know me.  Never asleep.”  I said with a sigh, sitting myself up on my elbows so I could see her better.  “Whatcha’ need?” 

She turned her head away from me, as if she was embarrassed by what she had to say.  “Nightmares.  Again.  I can’t go back to sleep, I tried.” 

I frowned, feeling sympathetic for the girl in front of me.  “I’m so sorry.  I know that sucks.  What can I do to help you?”  

“Could I stay with you?”  she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“What do you mean?”  I asked quizzically, my heart racing, thoughts jumbling together at the mere idea of her staying with me.   

She rolled her eyes and shoved me over.  “I just need to be around someone right now, and you’re my best friend, so...”   

I moved over so she would have room beside me, and automatically, I could see her body relax.  I pulled my duvet over her, making sure she was warm, and shuffled over a little more to respect her space.  “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She shook her head.  “Not really.  I do have something that I want to tell you, though.”   

I laid down so I was facing her.  “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

 “Of course I can, that’s why I’m scared to tell you this.  I don’t want you to hate me.”  I could see the agitation on her face, so I reached out to hold her hand, hoping to ground her.  Electricity sparked where our skin met, but at that moment, I tried to ignore it.  I wondered if she felt it, too. 

“I could never hate you.  I don’t care what you tell me.  You could tell me you hated sword fighting and I would still forgive you.”  I said, giving her my best sympathetic smile. 

She giggled at this, moving to play with the silver ring on my finger.  “I know.”  She swallowed hard.  “Luke, I have been claimed by my dad, I just didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to leave the cabin.  I didn’t want to leave you.” 

Resisting the urge to let my jaw drop, I looked at her, trying to find any sense of sarcasm in her gaze.  “Are you serious?  Who claimed you?  When?  Why me?” 

“Apollo is my dad."  She said shortly.  “A year ago, the first time I played the guitar you got me. He claimed me then. Also, why you? Look at yourself.  You’re the most genuine person who I have ever known.  I love you.  So much.”  

This time, my jaw did gape open just a little bit.  She loved me.  Oh, my gods, she fucking loved me.  “I love you too, but why are you telling me this now?”  I asked, curious as to why she was letting me in on this information at two or three in the morning.  

“That’s what my nightmare was about.  The lie had gotten to me, and you started to believe I was your sister, which is a horrible thought, and you dated someone, some Aphrodite girl who said I was too ugly to be loved by someone like you.  I didn’t want that to become my reality, so here I am.”  She said, her gaze traveling down to where our hands were still connected. 

My mind ran circles around her words.  She loved me.  She wanted me.  I guessed I looked lost, maybe even unhappy, because when I started to speak, she cut me off.  “So, what you’re saying is that...” 

“If you don’t like me that’s okay!  Seriously.  I know that this is random and ridiculous.  It’s just a stupid dream.”  She said, trying to pull her hand away from mine.   

“It’s not stupid, {reader}.  I love you, too.  I wanted you to not be a Herme’s kid with everything in my heart.”  I paused, eyes moving to her lips.  “Can I...”  At this, she softly pressed our lips together into the sweetest kiss I had ever experienced.  It was so soft, and some of her honey lip balm transferred onto mine.  She pressed a kiss to my cheek, my scar, my jaw, and my neck, before her eyes drifted closed.  “I love you, Luke, but I want to sleep.”   

“I love you, too, so I will let you sleep.” I responded, pulling her into my arms. I held her close for the rest of the night, basking in her scent and her warmth.  I was coaxed to sleep by her rhythmic heartbeat that I could feel against my chest. 

.... 

“WHAT THE HELL!”  Travis shouted.  It was probably nine in the morning, due to the emptiness and light coming into the cabin. 

I jolted awake, suddenly aware of another person in my arms.  {Reader}.  She had her arms thrown across my chest, head resting in the crook of my neck.  I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, trying to take in what was happening around me, trying to comprehend that the night prior wasn’t a dream. 

Travis and Connor stood near my bedside with stunned looks on my face.  Connor was the first to speak up after Travis’s initial reaction.  “Did you guys' fuck?”    

My face turned beat red. “No, dumbass!  Go away, she’s still asleep.  She just had nightmares last night and didn’t want to be alone.”  

“Sureeeeeeee.”  Travis drew out, smirking at me.  “That doesn’t look like you guys are just friends, Lukie.” 

I rolled my eyes and pulled {reader} closer, trying to ward off the Stoll's, trying to protect her from waking up at their loud words.  “Go away, please!” 

The brothers chuckled and walked out of the room, nudging one another.  I sighed and turned back to {reader}.  She didn’t stir in my arms, surprisingly, after all the commotion.  Holding her there made everything in my life make sense, and at this moment, I believed I had finally found my lifeline, my home. I pressed a kiss into her hair and contented myself with memorizing every freckle on her face.  

[jasperhaleobsessed]

Hey, I feel kinda weird asking for another fic since I already asked, but can you please do Jasper Hale x reader where reader is the “backup friend.” Where basically her friends only hang out with her, talk to her, etc when there is no one else to talk to. Reader’s mom (who she’s really close to) starts getting really busy with the reader’s younger siblings and so reader gets less attention/gets ignored. The only time reader gets attention from anyone is either when they need her or no one else is available. Reader is hanging out with the Cullens’ and gets a call from her mom telling her to watch her younger sibling even though reader is out with friends and reader’s other younger sibling is home and free to watch the toddler. She just accepts it, but Jasper gets kinda upset that she just accepted it since he could feel her disappointment and she bursts out crying. Jasper lets her know that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way and maybe cuddles and forehead kisses ensue?

Your only human

Jasper Hale x Female reader

Summary: The reader is having a hard time and Jasper comforts her.

Notes: Hope you like it and I know this wasn't exactly what you may have wanted but nevertheless still hope you enjoy it! :) Also sorry for taking such a long time!

Warnings: Some angst but a happy ending as usual!

Wordcount: 700

(Edit: I forgot to add a gif oops 😬)

Your POV

Laughter filled the room as always Emmett made a terrible joke. You secretly enjoyed his jokes. Even Roselie cracked a smile which was a shock. Jasper had his arm around your shoulder and he hugged you close. Warmth filled your cheeks and your chest tightened. You smiled happily especially after Esme came out of the kitchen and presented you with a freshly baked warm chocolate cookie. You smiled gratefully. 

Then you lost, “Oh come on!” You murmured and jokingly gave Carlisle a stink eye. 

“Sorry.” he smiled apologetically. 

“Oh it’s alright.” You smiled warmly. 

“Yes!” Emmett exclaimed. You turned your head in his direction and looked at him confused. 

“Hand it over Alice!” He held out his hand. Alice gave him the puppy dog face but handed the money out anyway.

 “You bet on me?” 

“Yup!” Emmett said enthusiastically.

“How did you win against Alice doesn’t she see the future and all?” Emmett shrugged his shoulders and Alice answered with, “I guess it was a last minute decision.” Roselie rolled her eyes at Emmetts antics. 

“Okay.” You said slowly. You turned back to the game and watched as the rest of the Cullen’s played against each other. 

“Can you believe them?” You laughed. 

“Surprisingly I can.” Jasper laughed as he interlocked his hand into yours. 

Edward won and Alice was close to winning too. It had been a fun night and you enjoyed every bit of it. You enjoyed being wrapped up in Jasper’s arms and you enjoyed laughing and giggling with the Cullen family that was until your mom called. 

Your phone buzzed, you pulled it out of your back pocket and you read the following text: Hi honey I need you to watch your little sibling tonight! 

Your brows furrowed and you responded with: 

You

But I can’t I’m at the Cullen’s right now 

Your mom

Well I’m sorry but your gonna have to 

You 

Why can’t my other capable older sibling do it??

Your mom 

Because they are busy. 

You 

But I’m busy too!

Your mom

You're the eldest, it's part of your job!

…

You sighed and rubbed your temples as you powered off your phone. You pushed it back into your pocket. 

“What's wrong?”

You turned to look at him and for a moment you had no idea what to do or what to tell him. 

“Uh, my mom needs me to babysit my little sibling.” You said as you went to grab your backpack and get your stuff ready to go. 

“Don’t you have another sibling who's old enough to take care of your younger one?” Jasper asked. 

“Yeah but apparently they can't and I’m the only one who can.” Jasper put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

“You're working yourself too much, I can feel it.” He caressed your face. 

“I know but no one else can and I have to. I don’t want to but she's relying on me and I can’t go and say no even if I feel exhausted and overworked because she's always working and has no time for her kids anymore. I can't just say no because she needs help and has no time because she’s trying to support her. But as much as I love my siblings I can’t do this. I'm not good at juggling all of this.” You felt your breath hitch and tears sting your eyes. You collapsed in his arms. He listened calmly to your rant.

And rubbed your hair soothingly. “Shhh it’s okay darlin’.” Your body trembled as he sent calming waves to you.

You couldn’t help but hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.” You murmured. 

He pulled you away and cupped your face, “You have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and exhausted, that's normal. Your only human darlin’.” You gave him a small smile and your tears continued to pour down your face as he whipped them away. 

He calmed you again and you took a deep breath just as he did. “Feel better?” You smiled and hugged him tightly. 

“Would you like me to come with you and help you so you don’t feel as overwhelmed?” 

“Yes!” You felt relieved. 

You turned to the rest of the Cullens and said, “Sorry for crying on ya.” Esme looked at you sympathetically, "Don’t worry dear you're completely fine.” She got up from the sofa and hugged you. Alice jumped up from her seat and you and Esme turned to her. 

“Don’t ever apologize! It’s okay!” She smiled warmly. You always thought her smiles were contagious. She smiled back at her warmly. The other Cullen’s agreed. Jasper took your hand as he led you to your house and you both smiled as you headed there. 

The End. 

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You attend your very first tourney in celebration of your brother or sister’s impending arrival. 

Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.

TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were lit—

“Ah,” Mama says. “Rhaenyra!”

From your place on the floor in the corner, right in the middle of a patch of sunlight, you see that ’Nyra has come. It’s not nice to have your story interrupted, but ’Nyra’s visits are always fun, so you don’t mind. She is dressed the way she does when she goes to visit Syrax, which means she will smell funny and make Mama cross.

“You know I don’t like you to go flying while I'm in this condition,” Mama adds.

“You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition.”

Alicent, ’Nyra’s best friend, stands in the doorway. She is very very pretty, you think, with red hair like Hana’s and a blue dress that makes her look like a girl from one of the old stories you like to listen to. “Your Grace,” she says, smiling.

“Good morrow, Alicent.” Mama sighs. She sounds very tired. She has put her coat back on, even though it’s so hot in the room and she’s fanning herself to try and dry the sweat on her cheeks and her brow.

“Did you sleep?” ’Nyra asks.

Mama laughs, quick and soft. “I slept.”

“How long?” ’Nyra takes a seat on the stool beside Mama’s feet.

“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”

“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”

That is when Mama’s eyes go to you. “I have my own right here, so there is no need to fear.”

’Nyra turns to look, too. Her frown goes away and she smiles, wiggling her fingers at you to say ‘hello’. Even though she’s your sister and that means you love her, you don’t go over to her. She is older, so she doesn’t care very much about dolls or stories or little sisters who don’t have dragons.

Mama keeps talking to ’Nyra while you listen. “You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the Realm.” None of it makes sense, but you like the sound of their voices.

’Nyra makes a rude noise. “I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”

Mama laughs. “We have royal wombs, you and your sister and I. The childbed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.”

Why would a child’s bed be a battlefield? My bed is nice and big. And what is a stiff lip? Is it something that Maester Mellos should give his herbs for? Are there bones in a lip? Can those bones break like big bones can?

You have lots of questions, but you don’t say what you’re thinking out loud, of course. The Maester only said you could be in here if you were good, so you mustn’t talk unless Mama asks you something or starts saying things to you.

“Now,” Mama says to ’Nyra, “take a bath. You stink of dragon.”

’Nyra stands up and bends down to kiss Mama on her head. Then, she comes over to you and gets on the floor so she can give you a hug and a kiss, and she is warm and smelly like Mama said she is. You like the smell, though, because it is what ’Nyra always smells like.

’Nyra leaves with Alicent, and for a while it is very calm. Mama takes a nap by closing her eyes and leaning with her head back, so you make sure to be very quiet when you continue telling yourself the story.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were little, they were best friends, and they played dolls and sang hymns and learned their letters together. But when they became older, they started to fight.

Marya was jealous of Hana. Lords from all over the kingdom wanted to marry her because of how pretty and how kind she was. That meant that not many lords wanted to marry Marya, even though she had lovely dark hair and knew all the names of the Houses and could sing even better than Hana did! So, Marya thought and thought about how she could make more lords want to marry her. She decided to hide all of Hana’s nicest dresses and shiniest jewels.

Naughty, naughty Marya. That’s not how proper ladies act. It was very nasty of you to—

“What are you and your ladies up to?”

You don’t like being interrupted for a second time, but it is Mama who is asking. Everyone’s been using soft voices since ’Nyra came to make a fuss and then left to wash the dragon-stink off. Mama’s question is louder than them all, so it must be for you.

Turning your head, you see that she is looking at you with a small smile.

“Marya hid Hana’s dresses and her best necklace and rings,” you say, holding her up high so Mama can see. You frown at the doll. “She needs to say sorry, so I’m telling her to.”

Mama laughs, but you don’t know why. “Oh, dear. How unkind of her! Why did Marya do such a thing?”

“All the lords want to marry Hana,” you say, “and not Marya. She’s very angry, but—but it’s not Hana’s fault. So I’m going to tell her that, too.”

“My, my.” Mama looks tired, like she has ever since baby Baelon-or-Visenya started growing in her belly, but she still seems happy that you’re here. Her eyes are warm the way they get when she sees you. “Quite a responsibility, you have.”

You nod. “I’m her Mama, like you’re mine. I have to teach her to be good.”

This makes Mama smile even wider. She holds her hand out to you, so you put Marya down beside Hana, making sure they’re not too close together. It would be bad if they started fighting after you’ve been busy telling Marya off so much. Making sure your skirts are neat like a proper lady, you go to take Mama’s hand, letting her pull you close-close so that you have to get up onto the daybed with her. Her skin is hot like fire is when you get too near it.

“Are you going to teach your little brother or sister to be good, too?” she asks, bringing your hand to her belly. When you touch it, you feel the kicking. It’s like a tapping from under a very thick blanket.

“Yes, Mama. I promise. I’ll sing all the hymns so they learn them, and make sure they eat all their supper, and—and say ‘no running’ and ‘no hitting’ and give them lots of hugs and tell—tell them they are naughty if they don’t liste—”

“Well,” she says even louder, smiling so wide you can see her teeth, “you already sound like a wonderful big sister, my dearest.”

Then, a new voice speaks out from the doorway, catching your interest. “Hakorje mandia kesā, sīlāvose.”

It’s one of your favourite people in the whole world.

You scramble out of Mama’s hold, nearly tripping over your dress. “Kepus!”

He chuckles as you race toward him, arm out so that he can catch you and lift you up. Mama hasn’t been able to do that since her belly became big, and Papa is too busy now. Oh, how you’ve missed it!

Uncle Daemon sits you on his hip so that you can stare straight at his face, at the way his eyes scrunch up with how much his mouth stretches. “What about you, Princess? Have you been a good girl since last I saw you?” he asks.

“I’m always good, kepus,” you say, pushing out your bottom lip to show how rude you think his question is. “But—but you haven’t. You’re naughty. You’ve been gone for so, so, so long!”

Even though his brow raises, he sounds like he finds you funny. “Ah-ah. A moon’s turn, nothing more or less, is all the time I’ve spent away. I was here for your name day celebrations, was I not?”

“That was ages ago!”

There were lots of people in the Keep for the party, and you don’t think you really knew most of them. But, because Papa is King and you are a Princess, they were invited to come and wish you a happy name day and give you gifts and eat and drink lots. It was nice at first, but the more they ate and drank, the louder they got, and soon you had to sneak off and find Uncle so that he could take you back to your rooms where it was quiet. He sang a song in High Valyrian, the language that your House has spoken for thousands of years, so that you could fall asleep even after eating so many little frosted cakes. Soon, you had to say farewell to him because he had to go back to Runestone and visit his lady wife, the one he hate-hates but Mama says he has to see.

Thinking about High Valyrian makes you stop. You can’t speak it, but there are some parts you know. Kicking Uncle in the side for being rude, you say, “And—and I’m not ann—annoying. I’m good!”

He looks sorry when you say that. “Of course you are. And I hope you’ll forgive me for returning after such a long time.” Behind his back where you can’t see is his other arm. He brings it out, showing you what he was hiding in his hand.

Oh! A new doll! And this one is special because it has pale hair and purple eyes just like you!

“Please accept this as a token of my apology, sweetling,” Uncle Daemon says, offering it to you. “Perhaps—Marya and Hana, was it?—could do with another friend.”

“Thank you, kepus!” Keeping your new doll pinned between you and Uncle, you wrap your arms around his neck so so tight and squeeze so he can feel how happy you are! You kiss him on the cheek, wiggling very close and smiling when he squeezes you back just as tight. “Thank you, thank you! I missed you so much!”

“Silly girl.”

Uncle pats you on the back once, twice, and then crouches down so that you can stand on your own two feet again. Sometimes, this makes you sad, because his hugs are your favourite and you wish they would never end. But he has to say ‘hello’ to Mama, too. Besides, you have a new lady to introduce!

“How about you play,” he says, “while I speak with Mama?”

“Okay!” You’re already thinking about it anyway.

When you go back to Marya and Hana, you can see that they’ve been good girls and not moved at all. You rearrange them both so that they are sitting, and place your new doll—Alysanne, you decide, after Papa and Uncle’s grandmama—between them, fussing with their hair so that it lies neatly. They are very pretty, you think, red and dark and silver all together.

“And how is Lady Rhea?” Mama is asking, brow lifting.

Uncle makes a noise and curls his lip meanly. “Who the fuck—who cares?” he says, rolling his eyes when you gasp. He said a bad word. “It’s not as though we spent any time in each other’s presence. Think I’d rather the company of sheep, anyway.”

“You were there for an entire moon’s turn, Daemon”—Mama frowns the way she does when ’Nyra says something rude, and ’Nyra does that a lot—“and you refused to even speak with her? She’s your wife.”

“Not one I chose. You would know that all too well, cousin.”

Mama goes quiet, looking to you. Uncle does, too. Then, she starts whispering to Uncle, and Uncle whispers back, and you return to your game.

Dolls make far more sense than people do.

You don’t like tourneys. You don’t like them at all.

It’s loud, and hot, and there are too many smells—of different perfumes all swirling around and clogging in your nose, of dirt and manure from the ground below, of something sharp that clings to the walls that box you in and shield you from being able to see anything interesting. The horns ring out and so many people cheer that it feels like a buzzing in your head. It makes your teeth hurt.

“Be welcome!”

Papa looks happy today, so much happier than he was the last time Mama said a babe was in her belly. That babe was dead, she told you. It went away from inside her and never came back. That’s what death is, and everyone is very, very afraid of it all the time. But you didn’t know that babe like you know Mama and Papa and ’Nyra and Uncle, so you weren’t sad or scared. You wonder if this babe will go away, too.

The sound of clapping is like thunder. “I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games,” he says. “But I promise, you will not be disappointed.”

You watch from beside Papa as ’Nyra sneaks to her seat, but she is not so sneaky because she is wearing a bright red dress that looks beautiful. She sits beside Alicent, her friend and Lord Hightower’s daughter, and tries to make herself small in her chair so that Papa won’t get angry.

After a pause, he keeps speaking. “When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share—Queen Aemma has begun her labours!”

There is so much noise that you have to hold your hands over your ears to quiet it just a little bit. Brella pats your shoulder, trying to make you feel better.

“It’s alright, Princess. We can play in just a moment—how about that?”

“I want Mama,” you say sadly, your bottom lip wobbling and your eyes feeling hot like they do when you really want to cry.

Mama has been locked in her chambers since last evening, when the Maester said the babe was nearly ready to come out. You asked and asked Papa, but he wouldn’t let you in to see her. When the door had opened and you tried to go inside, you were too surprised to move at the sound of her yelling. You think that the babe must have been hurting her very, very much. It makes you afraid. But then, Uncle took you away to your rooms and read you a story in High Valyrian, which sounded nice even though you didn’t understand it all.

“May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!” You are not listening to Papa’s words very closely.

“Soon, Princess,” Brella says, stopping for a moment when the horns echo out again. “You must wait for the babe to be born, first. How exciting—a new little brother, all for you!”

You don’t want a brother if it means that Mama has to be in pain. Papa would be very happy—you are three whole name days but you still know he wants the babe to be a boy and not a girl, that you were supposed to be a boy and he was sad you were only a second daughter—but you are happy with the way things are.

It would be very rude to say so in front of Papa, so you keep quiet and nod, letting your nursemaid bring you off your seat and down to the floor so that you may sit amongst Alysanne and Hana and Marya.

It has been very difficult to teach Marya to be nice to Alysanne, because she doesn’t like it when Hana makes new friends and Alysanne is a very pretty new friend. But she has decided she rather likes Alysanne after all, and so you can serve their tea without being scared of anyone being silly or bad to each other. Brella is very helpful in braiding Marya’s hair to look like ’Nyra’s does, and then she pins Hana’s back like Alicent’s. You decide that Alysanne should have hair that looks like yours because you look nearly the same, like she is your baby and you are her mama.

You are interrupted very quickly when Septa Marlow bends forward to speak straight into Brella’s ear. “It is unseemly to coddle her so. She is nearing the end of her infancy—you ought to be preparing her to pass over into my care, not indulging in frivolities!”

You shiver. Septa Marlow is mean. The last time that ’Nyra said something rude to her, she was rapped across the palm by Septa’s willow switch. It left a bright red mark that made you cry when you saw it, but ’Nyra only muttered something nasty under her breath and smiled in a not-very-kind way. You wish you could be as brave as her.

“When she is five summers old, she will pass into your care,” Brella says. It is polite, but the way she looks at Septa makes you think she is not being so nice after all. “Until then, I shall do as I see fit. And that means allowing the Princess to indulge in these frivolities while she can.”

Septa wants to say something rude back, you can tell—but then, the whispers start. It makes you look out onto the field so that you can see what’s happening.

“… of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!”

Uncle rides out on his horse—a great stallion named Varlet that you sometimes give apples to if he is very, very good and doesn’t buck anyone out of the saddle—wearing his nicest armour with the tail of feathers that comes out of the helmet. You think it makes him look a bit like a bird from one of those old books in the library. Uncle takes Varlet up and down the line of men on their own horses, but you don’t know why. You cannot see his face.

Your dolls don’t seem very exciting anymore. You pass them back to Brella and move past Papa to where ’Nyra sits at the very front. Even though there is an empty seat next to Alicent, you go to ’Nyra anyway.

All you have to do is hold up your arms to her and she smiles. “Do you want to see Uncle’s bout?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. You can hear the sound of hooves on the dirt, which means you are missing it, so you stamp your feet and wiggle. Maybe she will hurry up if you do. “Please, please!”

“Oh, alright.” She rolls her eyes and lifts you up so that you can sit on her lap, tucking her head next to yours and wrapping her arms tight around you so you don’t fall off. She is warm like Caraxes and Syrax are, like a dragon, only this time she doesn’t smell like smoke and rotting meat but like flowers and soap. “Can you see?”

You look down. Uncle is at one end of the field and the man he has chosen—Ser Gwayne, you think, from the green he has on and the funny shape of his helmet, like a tower—on the other, their jousting poles held out in front of them. “I can see,” you say.

When Uncle and Ser Gwayne start riding, you really do try to keep your eyes open. But, as they get closer and closer, you cannot help but shut them because you don’t want to see anyone get hurt, or worse­—the horses. Sometimes, it happens. All you can see is the insides of your eyelids when a big CLANG happens, but ’Nyra doesn’t clap so you think it might not be finished yet. Then, you hear a horse neigh and a big thud, and lots of applause. This time, ’Nyra does clap, so you open your eyes and see that Uncle is still on Varlet but Ser Gwayne is on the ground.

Your sister stops clapping when she sees Alicent with her hand over her mouth. Ser Gwayne is her brother, so she must be very worried for him. You reach out and pat her arm, which makes her stop and stare at you for a moment before giving you a small smile. ’Nyra grabs at her hand, too, which seems to help.

Uncle brings Varlet right up to the balcony with his jousting pole all the way up high, so ’Nyra puts you down and grips your shoulder to steer you forward. You are still very small, so the railing is too tall for you to reach, and that means you could fall very easily if you lean too far down. You grab onto your sister’s skirts.

“Nicely done, Uncle,” she says, holding onto the rail.

“Thank you, Princess.” Uncle looks at you, and his face changes—he is friendly now where he wasn’t exactly when he was looking at ’Nyra. He doesn’t say anything to you, but he does wink, which makes you giggle and him smile. He turns to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favour would all but assure it.”

She goes toward the table where two wreaths lay, one for her and one for ’Nyra. You are not old enough for your own yet, or so Papa says. Taking the green one in her fingers, she comes back to the balcony. Instead of putting the wreath on the jousting pole, though, she holds it out to you. “Perhaps your niece would like to give you my favour?”

Beaming, you accept the wreath and let Alicent pick you up under the arms. It doesn’t feel very nice, but it makes you tall enough to put the favour over the pole and watch it slide all the way down to the bottom, near where Uncle is holding it. He grins, then rides away to have another bout.

’Nyra takes you back to where she was sitting, placing you back on her knee. “Are you going to thank Alicent? She was very nice, letting you give Uncle her favour.”

“Thank you, Alicent,” you say.

She brushes some of your hair out of your eyes. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

You find it strange when Papa rises from his chair after something Lord Hightower says in his ear, a troubled look on his face. He was the one who had been the most excited about the tourney, so why is he getting up to leave?

’Nyra doesn’t notice, holding tight to you when you start squirming. For a while, you stay with her—but the jousting starts to get frightening. When the knights knock each other off their horses, they start using swords and axes and maces and trying to really hurt each other, striking and kicking so hard that it makes your heart race really fast in your chest and your belly rock like it does when you need to be sick. To take your mind off it, you start listening to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys talking to each other.

“…and we expect them to act with honour and grace,” the Princess is saying to her husband. The sound of her voice makes you shiver a little. Whenever she stares at you, it is unkind. You don’t think she likes you very much. “It’s a marvel that war didn't break out at first blood.”

Everyone gasps when the knight below brings his axe down on the man below him, hitting him over and over so that blood sprays everywhere. The man twitches at first, then goes still, the dirt below him turning dark red very quickly.

You cry and cry, loud and ugly. You don’t like it here anymore. You want to go back to the Keep and find Mama and let her hug you until this cold, awful feeling goes away and warmth and happiness comes back.

“Nurse!” ’Nyra says, but you aren’t really listening. You can see that people are pointing at you from the stands and whispering, which makes you even more upset because you truly tried to be good and quiet and not make a fuss this time.

“Oh, Princess.” Brella lifts you off of ’Nyra’s lap and carries you to the back of the royal box, past Papa’s Councilmen and all the lords and ladies that are gathered, heading toward the stairs. “Come now, my sweet. Time for a nap, don’t you think?”

“I want Mama,” is all you can say. “I want my mama!”

It is darker than normal when you wake up from your nap. Usually, the sun is still up, the colour of Papa’s crown as it shines through your window, hot and blinding even though supper is not far away. But now, you have to blink a few times before you realise that you cannot see because night has come.

Your chambers are empty, save one other.

“Papa?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning. You can just barely see him through the shadows. “What—what—”

There is a sharp clack and a fizzle of orange fire, which Papa cups in his hand and takes to the candle beside your bed. As he lights a small flame, you look at his face. Even in the darkness, you can see how sad he is, the shine that forms lines down his cheeks and the red puff of the skin around his eyes.

Oh, no. Something bad has happened. Something… something terrible.

“Whe—where’s Mama?” you ask, voice wobbly. It feels like a hand has reached down through your throat and your stomach to peel your insides out, to turn it all over so that you’re bleeding and broken where the Maester cannot see. “Mama—”

“Sh, my girl.” He is trying to sound soft and kind, but you hear how he cracks a little, how the words seem almost stuck on the tip of his tongue. “Listen to me. Come here.”

You still don’t know why it is, but the rule of life is that you obey ’Nyra who obeys Mama who obeys Papa, which means that you have to obey Mama and Papa even when the others aren’t there. So, when Papa asks you to do something, you have to listen. You’re a good girl, after all.

Kicking away the covers that have made you too-too warm, you crawl on your hands and knees to the edge of the bed where Papa sits. He is solid and real under your fingers, smelling like the Maester’s medicines as always, but also like something sour. Like metal.

He grabs you and puts you on his knee like ’Nyra did before, during the tourney, only the hand on your back is large-large, almost covering from your neck to your bottom. You can feel his thumb moving up and down as he speaks, up and down, up and down.

“Something… something has happened. To Mama,” he says, taking lots of pauses and shaking under you like he is cold. You reach up to pat his face. Your hand comes away wet.

“Is she okay?” you ask. That horrible feeling comes back, and you have to swallow so that you don’t get sick all over Papa. “Where is Mama?”

“Mama… she couldn’t bring the babe out. A boy—Baelon.” This time, you can hear him cry, but it’s quick, not long and loud like yours.

A brother. I have a baby brother. It doesn’t feel very special or interesting. Maybe meeting the babe will make you more excited?

“Where is he?”

Papa cries more. “He… he lived for three hours. Three. Then he—”

“—died.” That’s the word for when someone goes through death. Papa didn’t look like he could say it, but you can. “Sorry,” you tell him quietly. You know how much he wanted a boy. “Mama must be sad, too.”

“She—she—Mama didn’t survive the birth.”

You frown. What does that mean? “So… she is sick?”

Papa shakes his head, eyes scrunching. “No.”

“Where is she, then? I want to say ‘sorry’ to her, too.”

“She—died. She’s dead, my girl. Only, she passed before Baelon.”

You have to stop and really think, think so hard that your head hurts and you feel dizzy from holding your breath. Being dead means going away and never coming back. Mama is dead. Which means…

After Papa says those terrible, awful, horrible words, he pushes his nose into your hair and hugs you so so tight until you feel his tears sliding over your head. You hug him back, pressing your face to his chest and letting his shirt soak up all the crying from your eyes. You don’t know if you understand it all—but you know one thing for certain, one thing that makes you cold and sick and afraid.

Mama went away. Mama will never come back.

Mama is gone.

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[legitalicat]

Sweet Sister (Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon)

AN: Oh gosh guys. I did it. Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for being my workshop partner (I also got the amazing dividers from her) and to my spiritual twin @foxyanon for reading a bit of it when I needed to make sure it was okay. Also this snowballed very hard very fast I am sorry.

Masterlist here!

Summary: It wasn't the fault of them that this was their lot in life. Aemond and YN could only make the best of a marriage they did not particularly want. Yet Jacaerys does not see it as an obstacle. The gods made her for him. She was meant to be his.

TW: Language, characters are over 18, AFAB reader, use of YN in 3rd person pov, use of she/her pronouns, SMUT SMUT SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), a smidge of dry humping, lactation kink, tiddie sucking, masturbation, cuck!Aemond, threesome, Dom!Jacaerys, switch!Aemond (mostly veering on subbing), sub!reader, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Jace's monster cock, NO DANCE, canon typical Targcest, Jace grinding his cock on Aemond, Jace cumming on Aemond, cum eating, spit, political marriage, Jace kinda teaching Aemond to proper fuck his wife, I think that's all

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon Niece!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x younger sister!Reader

Word count: 6.2k

It wasn’t his fault.

It was a thought that lived consistently in her mind in the years since her marriage. Both of them offered to each other’s mother as a solution to the growing rift between them. A marriage made in desperate hopes to avoid an ever looming annihilation.

It was good, she supposed, that it was to a man she was so familiar with. Her Uncle Aemond, while never particularly warm, had always been kind enough. He usually spared her the vitriol he shot at her brothers. Even when making it clear he knew the truth, he was less violent in his hatred. Queen Alicent raised him to be better than that.

A spat between boys here and there was acceptable, expected even. Training together, he got plenty of chance to beat on them, to spill the vile whispers that invaded his ears. Nobody but Ser Harwin ever said anything, but Aemond figured it was only because he was too stupid to pretend as everyone else did.

YN was different. Between his mother and Ser Criston, he knew that every woman was meant to be seen with a certain amount of respect. Despite who her father was, or wasn’t, YN was a princess. She was not like her brothers, who antagonized him at every step. And so he would hold his tongue.

As children, they were polite to each other. If he and the Velaryon boys were arguing, he went quiet when she would walk into the room. He would hold the door for her and in the same motion let it slam on Jacaerys.

It was this politeness that allowed Alicent to see reason. She couldn’t marry her only daughter to one of Rhaenyra’s sons, yet the King made it clear that it was his will their lines would converge. She made a counter offer to Rhaenyra’s, Aemond wed to YN. The Princess of Dragonstone denied for many the same reasons The Queen denied hers. But the Driftmark Incident all but forced her hand if she wished for Lucerys to remain unharmed as a consequence.

He was a good husband to her when they married not long after her coming of age. He stood by her side at court, always keeping her close. Over the moons they spent at each other’s side, a natural affection was felt between them. It may not have been a fairytale romance, but he at least could be counted as her friend. And for a girl who was without her family for the first time in her life, a friend was exactly what she needed.

It wasn’t Aemond’s fault that they were still expected to provide children to their line. They held off as long they could. Yet as they approached two years of marriage, rumors of infertility started hanging over their head. He could not bare to leave his wife to such scrutiny. It was only then they started laying together as husband and wife.

The affection they felt gave a solid foundation for their relationship in the bedroom. It was an awkward beginning in which he would blush every time his hand grazed her breasts and a small squeak would leave her lips when she saw him naked. Aemond, though, was a man of proficiency. He always planned to be the best in everything, the need in him increasing tenfold upon learning that bringing his wife to orgasm increased her odds of becoming pregnant.

“You looked lovely tonight at dinner,” he commented as they came from dinner.

“Thank you, husband. Your words flatter me always,” she told him.

He opened the door to their suite, the warmth of the fire already having filled the living space. When the door closed behind them, she let out a noticeable breath of relief. She always preferred the peace of their suite.

He stepped closer and began to unlace her gown. She reached behind her as he did so and took a hold of one of his wrists.

“Are you nervous?” he whispered. She hadn’t been nervous with him in months, but he always asked.

“Grateful, I suppose. For a husband like you,” she told him. Her dress fell to the ground in a pool around her ankles. She had forgone her slip and so she now stood naked in front of him. “I must admit though, today I am eager. I feel as though soon I shall be pregnant.”

He gave a small smile even though she could not see him. “A darling mother you shall be. How many do you wish us to have?”

“No less than two,” she told him. “So I hope you do not mind continuing this for a few years yet to come.”

“Never, my sweet niece. After all, I do still enjoy myself as a man should when I bed you.”

Satisfied, she released his wrist entirely so that he move as he wish. A feather light kiss to her shoulder as he began to undo his pants. A hand roaming the front of her body from behind, grabbing and squeezing to elicit soft little hums of approval from her. With his pants off, he stepped closer to her.

“Settee or bed?” he whispered in her ear, his hard cock pressing firmly against her ass.

“Settee,” she whispered while a shudder moved through her. Within a heartbeat, he lead her to the sofa near them.

“I want to make sure my seed takes in your womb, little wife,” he whispered in her ear before he helped her into position.

His touch traveled from her hip to entangle itself in her hair. She turned her face to him to allow a single kiss before he pushed her head roughly onto the settee’s cushion. Any sound she made was muffled by the cushion, but it was how they preferred.

The blood rush provided by his delicate fingers created as many desires in her as it sated. Any looks of love he would give her would be fake, they didn’t love each other. Yet when his nails raked against her back as he prepared to grab her hips, she knew she was lucky in this.

His left hand rested along the curve of her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh to hold her where he wanted her. His right hand moved between her thighs before finding their home in her folds.

The fabric where her mouth was pressed warmed against her skin as she let out small, repetitive moans. In the months since their first bedding, his fingers had become experts at a quick orgasm. He would flex his thumb to rest against her pearl with fluctuating pressures in time with the speed of his middle and ring fingers thrusting into her cunt.

Her thighs trembled as Aemond curled his fingers, coaxing her orgasm ever closer. A faint sound of her moaning made it to his ears as her walls tightened around the digits. She came hard, only getting a second’s reprieve before his hand moved away and it’s presence replaced by his long cock.

His hips repeatedly moving into her turned him into a desperate man. Watching himself disappear into her cunt while her ass melted against the muscles of his lower abdomen was a sight made of sin. She was soaked around him, her juices dripping off his cock.

Aemond was a restrained man until he was on the precipice of orgasm. It was when she felt his fingers return to her swollen pearl and his hips start to stutter that she cried out. She could feel him pawing at her back, his once anchoring grasp becoming a desperate touch. His movements were no longer careful and considered as he rubbed his thumb eagerly against her pearl and fucked into her with abandon. She could feel the tension begin to build within her as she whispered his name into the cushion again and again.

She came for a second time, squealing into the cushion as she attempted to move forward. The pleasurable band that had snapped inside her belly increased how much she felt tenfold. Every movement of his cock was like the sweetest torture. The head pushed against that spongy spot inside of her, making her whimper with every brush. Her walls gripped even tighter, like he was the missing piece of her.

He groaned out her name as he released his spend, ropes of white coating her walls. She was certain, as he pulled out of her while trying to steady his breath, that this was it. This would be their luck.

Within two moons she had confirmation she was pregnant. She wrote letters to her family immediately upon telling Aemond. Together, they would walk to Her Grace the Queen’s apartments and tell her she would once again become a grandmother. One would think they had divulged the secrets of the universe with the way the Queen became so overjoyed.

She was approaching her fifth month of pregnancy when her family returned to King’s Landing so that her mother could take the Throne. With the passing of King Viserys, many had anticipated war. But neither Rhaenyra or Alicent wanted to risk losing their grandchild. If war had broken out, both knew that the baby would be torn between the desires of both it’s parents. That was enough.

YN stood in wait for her family alone at the Dragon Pit. The peace was tense already, and they had yet to arrive. But one by one, the elder members of her family landed on their dragons in front of her.

A journey by ship would take too long when there was a throne to take. Her mother dismounted Syrax with grace befitting a queen. Her eyes though did not fix themselves to her mother, instead the new Prince of Dragonstone capturing her full attention.

“My sweet sister,” her older brother said once he dismounted Vermax.

Jacaerys looked at her like she was his favorite toy. Two years her elder and that had never changed. She was his little sister, the one he knew the gods crafted from the heavens specifically for him. It was everything he believed to be true. She was meant to be his Queen, to be his.

That is why he was never too worried about her betrothal to Aemond when it was announced. Jace knew he didn’t necessarily need to be her first husband. Men run away or die every day, leaving their families behind. Knowing his uncle meant knowing how perfect the one eyed man had to be. He anticipated Aemond running away the moment he proved to be subpar at being a husband.

And when he did inevitably run, when he did abandon his wife, all Jacaerys needed to do was be there. He had told YN her entire life how he adored her, how he would give her a crown and a throne and nobody would doubt his devotion to her. She would be his equal in every way once he was King. No marriage to some lesser standing man would change that.

“Jace,” she said with a smile on her face. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He was sturdy, lean but firm. There was no sway in his body when she all but collided into him in her excitement, her small bump pressing against him. He held her just as close.

Even her pregnancy could not dissuade him from believing they were meant for each other. Jacaerys knew she would have children from this marriage, he had long prepared for that reality. But this child was as much of her as it was of Aemond, and he would love every part of his beloved sister.

“You are stunning, my queen. The babe is not too much trouble, I hope?” he asks when he pulls away. But only enough to look at her.

“Oh none at all. The little bug has only just began kicking,” she told him.

“I was more referring to your husband, but I am grateful your pregnancy has been easy thus far,” he told her with a smirk, creating a giggle she could not hold back.

His eyes look over her face more times than he can count. He had never seen a beauty such as hers. From the way her lips stretched as she smiled, to the little furrow in her brow as she watched him look at her, to the subtlety of her eyes shining with a joy he doubted she had for years. Everything about her captivated him.

As his eyes raked further down her body he was a man in love. Her breasts already were beginning to swell with milk, looking deliciously full and ripe for providing his pleasure. The bump was small, he knew she wasn’t too far along just yet, but seeing evidence of a child growing inside her was enough for him to feel like a man gone mad.

His cock began to swell under his trousers. He could not resist pulling her in for another hug just to be able to rut against her for a mere moment. It was subtle, discreet, one would be forgiven for thinking it was the embrace of a brother who missed his sister. She knew what he was doing. She could feel his bulge pressing through his skirts and against her heat.

“I have missed you dearly, my queen,” he whispered in her ear.

“I have missed you as well, my dear brother,” she whispered, hugging him tighter to her.

Pregnancy had a way of clouding her judgement. She desired more than just this juvenile attempt at some relief. And while it was true Aemond would tend to her when her hormones became too overwhelming, there was a difference. Aemond was her husband, the man she was legally bound to. He was the father of the babe cradled safely inside her. He was allowed.

Jace was her older brother. Adore him as she might, he had no true claim to her. They had risked enough the night before her wedding when he made her ride his thigh to orgasm. It was his way of ensuring she knew pleasure before he would get the chance to properly give it to her. But now, to even do this was a slap in the face to her husband and an affront to the gods.

He pulled away, completely this time, and smiled at her. “Your presence has been missed deeply, sweetling.”

And with no other words he stepped away and allowed a proper greeting between her and their mother.

With Rhaenyra’s coronation and subsequent restructuring of the Small Council, life remained hectic for months. Rhaenyra was smarter than her father as a ruler, she understood that the only thing that posed a threat to her rule was the ambitions of one man in particular. The best way to remove such a threat was to understand the ambition and give it only enough power to remain useful to her.

Her first act? Removing Otto Hightower as Hand. He was still on the Small Council as Master of Whisperers, as he was a man best kept close and an expert of intelligence. In his stead she placed Jacaerys until such a time he was married and would move to his seat of Dragonstone. It would give him opportunity to learn the workings of ruling the country that would once be his. As a way to create good faith between her and her brothers, she offered them positions as well. She would appoint Aemond as Master of Laws, as she doubted there were any who knew more of Westeros’ histories and laws as him. And for Aegon she created the position of Master of Celebrations, offering no further explanation before he accepted.

Being as her husband was preoccupied with his newfound duties, YN spent many nights alone. The babe, due in the next month by now, made her ache and weep. It was all she could do to avoid such pains. If it wasn’t her back or hips hurting, both from the weight of her stomach and the way her body prepared for labour, it was the way her breasts were already filling to the brim.

Her only comfort was found in her baths. The water ran so hot it would be uncomfortable for many. She had the blood of dragons coursing through her, she carried a dragon inside her. A little extra heat did nothing to dissuade her.

In fact, she was sitting on the bed, waiting for her maids to bring forth the water needed. Her hands massaged her aching breasts to attempt to provide any relief for her. As such, she was hardly covered by anything. Only a thin sheet laid draped over her lower half.

There was a knock on the door. She beckoned them inside, assuming it was her maids. Yet when she opened her eyes, there stood Jacaerys. Her eyes widened slightly, though she made no grand attempt to hide herself.

“My sweet, are you okay?” he asked her softly. His voice was filled with a love she had mostly forgotten.

“Pregnancy is hard on the body, at it turns out,” she joked as he came closer to her. It was then she pulled the sheet up further, now hiding her breasts.

“And your husband is not here to attend to you,” he commented. He sat in front of her on the bed and repositioned the sheet, exposing her breasts and pregnant belly to him.

“He does as he can. His duties have been weighing more as of late, though, so I am typically asleep by his finishing hour,” she told him.

“A dutiful wife. Never speaking ill of him,” he whispered.

“He has been good to me, Jace. He cares a great deal for my safety and happiness. Better to me than I believe many would have been,” she said in response. Her words were soft and genuine. She bore no ill will for Aemond, truly she did not. And she would not pretend she did.

“I am grateful you were granted such a kindness by the gods.”

His hands moved now from the sheet he stilled gripped to roam her stomach. The babe kicked at his touch as if to say hello. The two chuckled at the sensation.

“She has never kicked so eagerly before,” YN told him.

“She?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Call it instinct,” she shrugged, smiling at his hand on her stomach.

“She has a fiery resolve, just as her mother and her mother before,” Jacaerys told her happily before leaning forward and placing a kiss to her stomach. “Such a beautiful mother already, my queen.”

“You are too good at your flattery, brother,” she whispered.

“Is it flattery if it’s true? Is it flattery if just the sight of you, swollen with a babe and practically dripping milk, make my cock harden?” he asked, looking up at her with his chin rested on her stomach.

When her jaw slacked and her lips parted, he knew he had her attention in the way he needed. He moved up her body, pressing gentle kisses along her stomach and breasts as he did. Her uptick in breathing was bordering on panting as she watched him. His mess of curls tickled her skin just as his lips did.

“Can’t wait until it is my babe in your stomach. But I will love this one just the same,” he murmured against her skin.

“I am married, brother,” she whispered as she attempted to move his head away.

“You think the gods care for the law of man when they have crafted you for me?” he asked. His body did not budge at her insistent nudges.

“Jacaerys,” she whispered.

His hand flew up to grip her wrist. It did not hurt but it was a former grasp than Aemond ever had. In a moment her hand was being held to the mattress by his own, his head unmoving. His face was nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck where he inhaled deeply.

“You know you were made for me, little one, just as I have known it always. And you said yourself our uncle cares for your happiness, yet where is he? Why does he not tend to you as you prepare for him the greatest gift?” he murmured against her neck.

“He is busy,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as he once again inhaled her.

“The gods themselves would have to bind me to the earth in order to keep me from putting my cock in you whenever you needed,” he told her before nipping at her skin.

His free hand found it’s way to her left breast. She whimpered a bit under his touch, the pain she felt earlier mixing with a pleasure from how much he desired her. She could feel his smirk against her neck as he began rutting his hips against her lap. His hardened cock pressed painfully into her thigh.

She should tell him to move. She knew he would respect her desires. But how could she focus on any desire she held save for him? She had always loved Jacaerys as he loved her.

Her first memory was of Jace promising her she would be his Queen. He doted on her from the moment she was born. He had always told her she was his, made for him by the gods to be his perfect match, even after her betrothal. And while she understood the role she was meant to play in keeping the peace, she believe it too.

“What is this?” Aemond’s voice said from the door.

YN was about to answer him, to insist that despite what it looked like she had only been waiting for her maids to draw her bath. She could only hope he would understand. Instead, Jace sat up. He smirked at his younger sister before turning to face Aemond, his hand never leaving hers.

“I am doing your job, since apparently you do not find my sweet sister important enough,” he said to the blonde man.

“Do not speak to me of my wife,” Aemond said darkly. “She understands the nature of my position.”

“You do not speak to me of my sister,” Jace commanded. “She is beauty in all she is, she is carrying your child, and yet you do not wait on her hand and foot? Instead leaving her to rot in this room while you pour over your books and scrolls.”

“I am a prince you do not get to speak to me this way,” Aemond said angrily, though not as loud.

“And I am Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne!” Jace all but shouted. “I should have your cock removed since you do not use it as you should! Send you to the Wall for daring to deny my sister an existence of gluttonous pleasure!”

Aemond silenced himself and looked to his wife. His wife who, until this moment, he wasn’t aware could look at someone with such a burning desire. But she looked at Jacaerys the way he had once hoped they would looked at each other, when he thought there was hope they would love each other. He could see that for her, Jacaerys hung the moon and stars.

“Close the door and sit in that chair by the window,” Jace told Aemond.

Having no choice to comply, the older man did as asked. There was little doubt in his mind Jacaerys would send him to the Wall if for no other reason than to have YN to himself. And so, he shut the bedroom door and took a seat in the chair.

The bed was close enough he got a perfect side view of his wife. He could admit the sight of her displayed in such a manner stirred something inside him. He could feel his cock twitch at the sight of her full breasts, her rounded belly, but mostly? It was the way she wasn’t even concerned with him.

Her focus was solely on Jacaerys now. Her brother was back to pressing kisses against her body. It was the first time Aemond could see the faces she made with the slightest pleasure. How easily her face contorted the second Jacaerys took one of her nipples between his teeth was a sight he wished he could commit to memory.

“Some ground rules,” Jacaerys said after pulling away from her breast. He looked to Aemond. “Sit in that fucking chair until I tell you you’re allowed to move. Answer me when you’re spoken to. Stroke your dick or whatever, just do not leave that chair.”

“And if she asks for me?” Aemond asked him.

“She won’t,” was all Jacaerys offered him. But it was enough to make YN whimper beneath him. Aemond flushed as his cock twitched once again, hardening with every passing second.

Jacaerys turned to YN, smiling down at her. “And you, my beautiful, darling, sweet sister…all I want is your permission to love your body the way it is meant to be loved,” he said. His voice with her was soft and tender as opposed to how harsh and angry he was with Aemond.

“Jace,” she whispered. She began to turn to Aemond, but Jacaerys gripped her chin and kept her gaze on him.

“No, my queen, it is not about him. It is about you, and us. About you belonging to me, if you wish,” he whispered to her. His brown doe eyes made her melt before he sat up, finally releasing her hand to he could grab the bottom of his shirt.

All she could do is nod. She was speechless with the sight of him pulling off his shirt. His toned abdomen caused a gush of her arousal to pool between her legs.

She felt heat flood her cheeks when he removed the sheet from her lower half. Her face felt even hotter when he pushed her legs apart, eyes locking in on her cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praised her, hands rubbing the inside of her thighs. “Doesn’t she have a pretty pussy, Uncle?”

For the first time, YN looked at him. Her wide eyes were heavy with lust. In all the nights they had spent together, he had never really allowed himself the chance to take in the beauty of her face. He wanted more. Needed more

“Yes,” was all he could manage to say. His eyes moved from her face to where Jace was touching her. In almost expert fashion, Jace removed his pants. His cock was longer than Aemond’s, thicker too. As husband and wife stared at the monstrous cock, they both couldn’t imagine how it would fit.

“Have you drank from these tits, Uncle?” Jace asked Aemond without turning his eyes from her pussy. He smirked at how wet his sister was, feeling more desire in him than he had ever felt before.

“Not yet,” Aemond choked out. His self restraint was out the window now. He pulled his cock from his trousers and gripped it in his hand.

“Seems fitting, I suppose. You were the first to fuck a babe into her, I shall be the first to drink from her,” Jacaerys smirked at the idea of claiming a part of her Aemond had not.

He laid his cock in between her slick folds, allowing it to rest against her clit while he leaned down and began suckling from her. His left hand held one tit while he suckled from the other. Her sweet milk flowed freely past his eager lips and onto his greedy tongue.

He moaned against her as he ground his hips against hers. Her slick aided his cock in sliding between her folds and creating a friction that caused her to whine out. She couldn’t hold the moans from her lips.

“Fuck,” Aemond whispered. His pupil was blown wide as he desperately stroked his cock. Pre-cum beaded on the head just to continuously be wiped away by a swipe of his cum.

With a loud pop, Jacaerys pulled off her tit. He kissed her hungrily. There was nothing he needed more than her. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled his hips back just far enough to readjust, pushing his cock into her. She groaned into the kiss, feeling the burn of stretching around him. His hips stilled when his cock was seated half way inside her.

He broke the kiss after several moments. He looked between her lips and her leaking tits. His cock throbbed at the sight.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So fuckable. So perfect on my cock.”

“Yours, Jacey, yours,” she muttered. She made a pointed effort to ignore her husband whimpering in his chair. The thought of him so hard at this sight made her pussy flutter around the cock inside her. “Want your fucking cock, Jacey. All of it.”

He kissed all over her face as he pushed further into her. She cried out his name repeatedly, moaning, begging for more in the same breath she cried it was too much. Jacaerys nearly busted inside her in that moment. Her full tits moving with just the slightest snap of his hips, her cock drunk expression written on her face, her pregnant stomach pushing against him.

With her beautiful sounds as encouragement, he began fucking into her with abandon. All that mattered to him was how perfect she felt around him. Her walls squeezed around his cock in a quiet desperation to keep him inside her. With every stroke, the tip pushed against the spongey part of her walls, causing her to cry out his name. She was more sensitive in her pregnancy, allowing for her orgasm to build quickly.

“Fuck, fuck,” she moaned out as the band inside her snapped and her orgasm washed over her entirely.

The gush of her release flooded over his cock. He wanted to hear her moans every day. It was all he could think about as his balls, heavy with his load, slapped against her ass. His grunts and groans of pleasure drowned her out until finally he cried out her name, spilling his seed deep inside her.

“Stop,” YN commanded Aemond after a few seconds.. He looked to her face desperately, obediently stopping his furious tugs of his cock just as he was on the verge of his own release.

“What do you wish, my queen?” Jace panted, pulling his still throbbing cock from her.

“Eat your spend from my cunt. Then when you pull away I wish Aemond to begin to fuck me, and you spit your seed into his mouth,” she told her brother, never looking away from Aemond. She watched as his cock twitched with anticipation. “I think that is what my husband wants, too.”

Jace smirked at her once more before looking to Aemond. “Come over here, then. Naked. My Queen wishes to enjoy you.”

Aemond had never moved so fast in his life. As Jace moved down his lover’s body, YN took her husband’s hand. It was a small moment of intimacy neither had allowed themselves before. Until tonight, a certain part of them remained duty. But now, there was no pretending.

Jacaerys lapped eagerly at her clit once he found his home between her thighs. She squirmed under his careful tongue, whimpering his name. Aemond felt desperate now, to make her replicate those sounds for him.

Jacaerys pulled away from her right before she came again. She was breathing heavy, eyes wide, as she looked down at him. Without breaking eye contact, he reached beside him and grabbed Aemond by his cock. Wordlessly, Aemond allowed himself to be lead, occasionally bucking his hips into Jacaerys’ hand. YN moaned at the sight.

With Aemond in position, his cock firmly pressed against her entrance, Jacaerys grabbed his uncle by the jaw and squeezed. Aemond instinctually opened his mouth. The brunette looked to his sister, who at this point was rubbing her own clit, before turning back to Aemond and spitting the mixture of his seed and YN’s release onto his waiting tongue. Just like a seasoned whore in Flea Bottom, Aemond swallowed eagerly.

“Tell her thank you for the gift she has bestowed in you,” Jacaerys whispered in Aemond’s ear. His hand moved to grasp his uncle’s cock, giving slow, lazy tugs. Between the heat of his wife’s pussy all but begging him to fuck her and the firmness of his nephew’s hold, it was almost painful to not begin to fuck her at a reckless pace.

“Th-thank you, for giving me a child,” Aemond stuttered out. Jacaerys began grinding against Aemond’s hip, his cock hardening with every passing moment.

“Apologize to her for not satisfying her enough,” the future king demanded. His eyes watched his sister’s fingers rubbing furiously against her clit, her body trembling. And then they traveled up her body. “Tell her what a goddess she is.”

“Such a goddess,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I am a fool for not worshipping every moment.”

“Mhmphh,” Jacaerys breathed out as he rutted against his uncle. “Slide your pretty cock into her and beg her to keep you. Beg our Queen to decide she wants to keep you when I marry her.”

As soon as Jacaerys’ hand fell away, Aemond buried himself to the hilt inside her pussy. But his hand was not unoccupied for long. He batted her hand away from her clit and replaced her fingers with his. He rubbed the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts against Aemond’s hip.

“Do not cast me aside,” Aemond begged her, his hips moving at breakneck speed as he pounded away at his wife’s pussy. “YN, my wife, please. Keep me by your side, fuck, fuck, and and I will worship you.”

“Slow yourself, match your thrusts to mine. Deeply,” Jacaerys whispered his ear. Aemond was quick to adjust his speed. He wanted to make both of them happy.

“Fuck,” YN whined out. Her thighs were trembling uncontrollably as once again she approached orgasm. “Want both of you. Want to be Queen. Want to be both yours,” she begged the two men. Her back arched as she screamed out, their names tumbling from her lips in a jumbled mess. Both men tried to maintain their movements as she rode out her eye.

Jacaerys came first, still sensitive from his first orgasm. His sticky spend painted Aemond’s pale hip before beginning to slide down the taut muscles and onto the mattress below. Aemond followed sooner after, his seed finding home deep inside his wife.

The three of them were breathing heavily. Jacaerys stepped back off the bed, finding a cloth so that he could wipe off Aemond’s hip. By the time the blonde prince had pulled out, his cock had softened. But neither man could avoid staring at her pussy as it leaked cum.

Aemond laid beside his wife, Jacaerys on the other. She giggled and pulled a sheet over their bodies.

“We shall wed in the Valyrian tradition, and our Uncle and I shall take turns fucking babe after babe into you,” Jacaerys whispered as he kissed her cheek.

“It is against the Faith, the law,” YN reminded her brother.

But Aemond saw the frown on her face and knew how much she wanted that future. And he wished for it too, wished for more nights in which the three of them could spend together. Something inside him shifted as he looked at the two of them. What was once a marriage to his dearest friend was now more. It was a chance at a happiness he would never have allowed himself.

“Lucky for us, we know the person responsible for the law,” he murmured as his hand rested on her stomach. “And I have it on good authority he wishes nothing more than to allow us this pleasure.”

She looked up at his face, her gaze soft. “Truly?” she whispered.

“Jacaerys is right. I have been a fool. A fool for not realizing the beauty that you are, the wonderful thing you are giving me,” he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “And this was the happiest I have ever seen you.”

“It is the happiest you have ever been either, dear husband,” she pointed out. “I have never seen you so responsive.”

Jacaerys rested his own again against her stomach, his finger tips grazing Aemond’s. “I am glad to have seen it from the both of you.”

“Marry her. And we shall all be together as we were tonight,” Aemond murmured. Jacaerys chuckled. “What?”

“Oh next time, I’m fucking your ass while you fuck her,” he smirking. “Or maybe we should see if both our cocks could fit in her.”

“Oh, I think she’s definitely a good enough girl to let us try. Aren’t you, my wife?”

She nodded eagerly before leaning up to kiss him. He hummed against her lips for just a moment before she pulled away and kissed Jacaerys.

When she pulled away, both men moved as close as possible to her and held her.

“I love you, sweet sister.”

Taglist: @alexagirlie

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐍𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

nijiro murakami x fem!reader ; instagram au!!

tw: make out session, dirty talk (i don’t what came over me it’s just felt right sorry 😭😭)

pov: since nijiro doesn't post anything on his ig account, you're the one who leaks pictures about him from yours. fans go crazy every time you post anything, scrolling through your pictures, they search for even a glimpse of nijiro in the background or when you post a silly picture about him. you are beautiful too, they know this, because why wouldn't nijiro date a pretty girl and love her with all of his heart? you two complete each other so perfectly, it's an extra pleasure if you leak some nijiro content!!

"are you gonna post that too?" nijiro asks as you lay on his chest, scrolling through your phone that is full of photos about him.

"why? i think it's cute." you replied as he stroked your waist. you two were in tokyo, and after he got home after shooting the new season of alice in borderland, a heated makeout-session eased his mind, but you still felt the semi hard-on under your thigh.

"you don't need to raid your account with me. i know you are doing this for my fans too." furrowing your eyebrows, you made a fake gasp.

"no, i'm not!" then sighing, dropping down your phone, you kissed his neck. "i'm sorry 'jiro... just can't get enough from you. i want everybody to see how you really are." you muttered into his chest as he tiled both of you on your sides.

"that's okay. just don't leak the most important things about us." he said, making you laugh as he kissed down on your neck, to your shoulders. you were in for a session again, but you wanted more, and you knew he wanted too. and maybe, turning on the voice record, it could be the next tape in the hidden map of the most important things on your phone.

"our sex tapes are our sex tapes. and you... "you began to slip down with your hands on his lips and his chest, "...and your body..." down to the waistband of his boxer, "...and your everything is also mine. just as i'm yours." you whispered as the two of you kissed. nijiro took away your hand with his, sipping the other to open your bralette behind your back.

"did you said this intentionally to fire me up and make love to you all night?" he asked with a hoarse voice, turning you on your back, pushing his thigh in between yours, making you gasp and low-key grind down to it.

"yeah, maybe i did it." you whined as he get down to your abdomen, stroking your fingers between his locks, waiting to ease the built up tension between your legs, the phone and the posts long forgotten.

"good girl", nijiro's voices were muffled by the skin on your thigh, and you let yourself gasp into the night from the pleasure he gave you.

and nijiro? since you're his girlfriend, his fans makes fan accounts about you too, hyping you up and encouraging you to be a model, making edits about you two, but mainly you. he doesn't tell you, but he always looks about these pages, and he playfully rolls his eyes from time to time, as you grin, while showing him tweets about his account as he liked these videos and edits. although he doesn't follow anyone, after a long time, he gets one followed account. yours. isn't he cute?

itsjusty/n's story

itsjusty/n

itsjusty/n birthday boy!! @njr_mk

itsjusty/n

itsjusty/n finally in tokyo again... mr. nijiro the explorer was sure that he knows the way, but guess who got lost three times on the airport 🤧

itsjusty/n

itsjusty/n back in kyoto, i took like 600 pictures (gonna dump it), while that’s the only two he got 🥹

itsjusty/n’s story

itsjusty/n

itsjusty/n arriving home at 4am, sleeping like babies 😴🛌

[bloodynereid]

Tinsel, Gold and Dragons

(modern au!)

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x fem! reader, past rhaenyra x alicent

tw: kissing, alicent bashing, alcohol consumption, talk about hooking up, hatred of the holiday season??

description: You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

a/n: hiii hope you enjoy this little fic i randomly wrote last night. i've been kind of missing just writing stuff that isn't requests so hopefully this is still ok haha. ALSO i'm 100% an alicent defender, she's the loml so just remember that a lot of this is from rhaenyra's pov and not my own thoughts about her character. anyways hope you enjoy this and happy holidays <3 (might write a part 2 at some point but who knows?)

Rhaenyra Targaryen never liked the holiday season. After her mother died things just got worse and the boring parties she was always subjected to only got more boring. The welcome reprieve of baking gingerbread in the kitchen with her mom was gone in seconds and now holidays just reminded her of everything she had lost.

This year’s party was going to be the worst one by a long shot. Rhaenyra had to deal with Alicent fucking Hightower - oh sorry Targaryen now… that was something she still hadn’t accepted. I mean how do you even cope when your best friend suddenly starts fucking your dad in secret, gets pregnant, marries him and then proceeds to act like she’s Virgin fucking Mary?

The answer is with a lot of scotch, stupid hookups and long hours studying. She was desperate to get her law degree so she could finally do something and it also meant she could start working at her uncle’s law firm.

Currently though she was stuck in her father’s house whilst her new toddler half-brother threw temper tantrums and broke anything in his vicinity.

It was Christmas Eve and Viserys had nearly decided to cancel the annual Christmas party, in favor of “family bonding” but Alicent had somehow convinced him to keep it on. Rhaenyra did not want to think about what she had done to convince him. She nearly gagged at the mere idea of it.

Smoothing out the material of the dark red dress with a slightly higher slit than what would be considered appropriate, Rhaenyra let out an audible sound of satisfaction. She looked fucking hot. Plus Alicent would freak when she saw it, perfect.

Once upon a time Alicent Hightower had been her best friend, and probably something more but now… all that Rhaenyra could muster up for her is a cold chill of utter hate and rage.

Rhaenyra was thrown out of her thoughts when her phone called out the familiar ringtone that belonged to her uncle.

“Daemon… you do know that people can text now don’t you?”

“Haha, you can call me old all you want but you might regret it when I don’t tell you how I’m about to save you tonight.”

“Please tell me you found a way to make them all die fiery deaths.”

“Nothing as dramatic as that but I assure you it’s still the perfect escape.”

“Are you going to leave me in suspense while I endure this torture or…”

“Fine, you spoiled princess. We’re having a little party at the firm and since you’re coming to work here soon…”

“You didn’t.”

“But I did.”

“Fuck off. You mean I can actually leave this party.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“You’re my savior.”

“Knight in shining armor and all that. Just remember to get me a good present this year.”

“When do I ever disappoint you?”

“There is also another surprise waiting for you when you get here.”

“Daemon… what have you done?”

“Nothing. There’s just someone I think you should meet.”

“Oh God, maybe I won’t go.”

“You know you’re too desperate not to, plus she’s your age so you won’t have to deal with boring old men like me.”

“She’s a she?” 

Rhaenyra perked up, she hadn’t had a date in a while and ever since Alicent she hadn’t even tried to step her foot back into that pool. A string of meaningless hookups with men had done nothing to quell the heartbreak side of the whole situation. This would probably be good for her. 

“Yes. So I guess that means you’re coming?”

“Obviously.”

“Should I send a car over?”

“Don’t bother, I’ll just drive Syrax.” Syrax was a birthday present from Daemon, a beautiful and subtly gold car that drove like a dream.

“Ok, see you soon Nyra.”

“Bye, Uncle.”

Rhaenyra sped through the streets of King’s Landing in the comfortable leather seat of her car. The bright Christmas lights that adorned the shops made a bright smile appear on her face. She may hate the holidays but at least the lights and food were incredible.

She arrived at the tall building that held Caraxes, Daemon’s law firm and named after his first dog but no one needed to know that. She gave her name to the security guard before parking the car in one of the empty spaces.

Her red dress fluttered in the cold breeze as she waited for the elevator to open. The firm was located on the 60th floor, the penthouse. Rhaenyra always loved being up high so the height was never a problem. What was annoying was how long it took her to actually get up there.

When the elevator doors finally opened at the correct floor, loud Christmas music echoed through the floor and she could clearly hear cheers coming from the area close to Daemon’s office.

Since the secretary was nowhere to be seen, Rhaenyra walked the now familiar route towards her uncle’s office. Weaving through a variety of cubicles she found a large Christmas tree and a small bar had been set up outside her uncle’s office.

“NYRA!” A loud voice that corresponded to her uncle slurred out and his tall frame ambled towards her. Within moments she was suddenly caught in a warm embrace and she returned the hug with her smaller arms wrapping around his torso.

“When did you have time to get this drunk, uncle?” Rhaenyra asked when they finally parted.

“Oh you think this is drunk, darling. Don’t you remember me at that New Year’s-”

“Andddd I’m going to stop you right there. I still get trauma flashbacks.”

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning Nyra. I’m sure our dear Alicent flipped when she saw you.”

“You should have seen her face when I told her I was going to unfortunately not attend her party.” Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a laugh before Daemon spotted someone in the crowd and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Y/N! I have someone you should meet.” 

Rhaenyra followed Daemon’s line of sight and found the most beautiful woman she had probably ever seen. You were wearing a dark blue floor length dress which was held up with spaghetti straps. A pashmina scarf looped around your elbows and you had a smile on your face as you approached the two of them.

“You summoned me?” You asked when you finished weaving through the sea of people.

“Well yes, I wanted you to meet my niece. Rhaenyra this is Y/N, our newest and most promising associate.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said as you offered a hand to the stunning silver haired woman. You were wondering how the hell this family had so many attractive people. Rhaenyra’s brain was currently not computing, she was pretty sure this was called bisexual panic but it had never really happened to her in real life before.

“I-uh, nice to meet you too.” Rhaenyra stuttered out as she took Y/N’s hand and shook it.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it.” Daemon said with a conspiring tone in his voice before he disappeared into the crowd.

“So… Daemon’s been singing your merits all over the office for a while now so I think I have an unfair advantage here.”

“Oh God, what has he been saying?” Rhaenyra groaned out as she dramatically swept a hand over her hair.

“Nothing bad, I promise. You’re getting your law degree at The Citadel, right?”

“Yup.”

“How’s that? I was debating going there for a while but ended up going to Oxford instead.”

“It's hell but worth it, I hope.”

“I totally get that, Oxford was like medieval torture but I’m happy it landed me in this place.” You said as you swept a hand in the direction of the office space.

“Wait, how old are you?” Rhaenyra suddenly asked before her face contorted in embarrassment. “Shit, that was rude, sorry.”

“Ha don’t worry, I get that all the time. I’m 25.”

“24.” Rhaenyra offered back in solidarity.

“We’re basically the same age then.” You said with a wink before you took a sip of the amber liquid in the glass tumbler.

“Probably why Daemon shoved us in this little corner together.”

“I’m for one glad to be stuck in this little corner with you.” You said as you smirked in Rhaenyra’s direction. A light blush started to dust Rhaenyra’s cheeks.

“I’m glad too, but I’m desperate for a drink. This week has been hell.”

“You don’t like the holidays either?”

“Hate them.”

“We have something else in common after all.”

You spent the rest of the party sitting next to Rhaenyra in Daemon’s office. You drank sparingly, not wanting to be drunk since Rhaenyra needed to drive back and you didn’t want to act like a fool in front of her.

Rhaenyra felt like this was the first time in years that she felt truly happy. It was nice just to talk and gossip and be free to actually be herself. With Alicent it felt like she was walking on eggshells before the incident and now it was near impossible to be in the same room alone with her. But with Y/N…

At first, Rhaenyra went into this wanting just to have a quick hookup but those hours spent talking or maybe it was the alcohol that got to her head but she decided she deserved something better. She deserved someone better.

“Do you need a ride home?” Rhaenyra asked when people started to mill out of the party. Y/N turned to her in surprise before a gentle smile lit up her face.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble?”

“Not at all, but don’t think this is some kind of selfless act - maybe I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Well, we just have to indulge in your selfish desires don’t we?” You said with a twinkle in your eyes and a laugh on your tongue.

“You have no idea the scope of my selfish desires.”

“I would like to find out…”

Rhaenyra basically dragged you down to her car after that little remark. As she drove through the streets of King’s Landing, you took a leap of blind faith (or maybe love) by gripping the hand that lay between the two of you. Rhaenyra instantly threaded her fingers through yours and you spied a small smile making its way to her face.

Once she pulled up in front of your apartment building Rhaenyra bit her lip and turned to look at you - still completely in awe of how pretty you are.

“We arrived.”

“That we did.”

“Well…”

“Well… do you uh-”

“Do I what?” Rhaenyra said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Rhae… I- do you want to come up?”

“Only if we can have a date tomorrow.”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Hmm… deal.” You said as a giddy smile graced your lips. Suddenly the feeling of soft lips meeting against yours startled you out of your reverie and you jumped to thread your fingers through her silky hair.

“You are so beautiful.” Rhaenyra mumbled against your lips before slipping her tongue to delicately stroke yours. It seemed impossible that your smile could widen even more but it did.

“Mmm, says you. You fucking goddess.” You said when you both finally pulled away. Panting and grinning like idiots.

“This is certainly turning out to be a very merry Christmas.”

“Ho ho ho.”

rhaenyra is an bisexual icon just like her uncle and we love her for it !!

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

More aroace book recs

Comes out April 16

Sophie and Jo, two aromantic and asexual students at Wellesley College, engage in an online feud while unknowingly becoming friends in real life, in this dual POV Young Adult contemporary debut from Ann Zhao. Sophie Chi is in her first year at Wellesley College (despite her parents' wishes that she attend a "real" university, rather than a liberal arts school) and has long accepted her aromantic and asexual identities. Despite knowing she'll never fall in love, she enjoys running an Instagram account that offers relationship advice to students at Wellesley. No one except her roommate knows that she's behind the incredibly popular "Dear Wendy" account. When Joanna "Jo" Ephron —also a first-year student at Wellesley— created their "Sincerely Wanda" account, it wasn't at all meant to be serious or take off like it does—not like Dear Wendy's. But now they might have a rivalry of sorts with Dear Wendy? Oops. As if Jo's not busy enough having existential crises over gender, the fact that she'll never truly be loved or be enough, or her few friends finding The One and forgetting her! While tensions are rising online, Sophie and Jo are getting closer in real life, bonding over their shared aroace identities. As their friendship develops and they work together to start a campus organization for other a-spec students, can their growing bond survive if they learn just who's behind the Wendy and Wanda accounts? With its exploration of a-spec identities, college life, and more, this platonic comedy, perfect for fans of Netflix's The Half of It and Alice Oseman's Loveless, is ultimately a love story about two people who are not—and will not—be in love!

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Six)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader reborn as lady greenstar. it was no secret as aemond’s admiration grew.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, size kink, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and Aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: this chapter is ONLY in Aemond’s pov. ooc aemond, but still is a cold-stone, charming prince we all love. Thank you for being patient with me; i took so long to write. I used a reference from Nanami’s line from JJK—he said “Being a child isn’t a sin.” And the trailer of HOTD S2 is 😍😭🔥❤️‍🔥👏

Chapter Six: The Rebirth of Lady Greenstar

~Aemond’s POV~

Aemond couldn’t stop gazing at you in your sleep, no matter how often he saw your chest rise and fall with soften breath drawing past through your lips—sinful lips, droning out soft noises, he recalls the day where he undressed you. Moles engraved on your lower lips and neck, and several others spotted on the collarbone. Some at the back. The shape on your smooth legs sprawled and tucked at turns you rotated whilst in dreamland—he recalled your skin marked in red outline of a dragon on your right thigh, and a green dragon on your whole backside.

Slender arms rested beneath your head despite the ivory pillows are there, all fluffed and cleansed with new ivory sheets, aglow under a yellow sun.

Quenched as he is, Alicent’s word stung; his hands and teeth clenched. “But the truest of your heart—your love must be hidden in secret,” she told him once.

He knew what she meant.

Studying the histories of the Targaryens—of those who had children out of wedlock for an escapism in horrid and loveless marriages assigned from previous kings are often ridiculed and reigned in contempt, in curse—bastards.

He hated bastards. Lucerys and Jacaerys are one—they claimed to be as Velaryons throughout—and on a night of Laena’s passing, Aemond, at the age of three-and-ten claimed Vhagar and lost his eye, that damned good-for-nothing bastard—a Targaryen pretender who was out of Rhaenyra’s womb, bathed and born with brown locks and pug-like nose and sneering features—Velaryons tend to have delicate and soft features, but still manly in their own way like Targaryens do, but not Strong. House Strong are rugged and filthy.

But—

With your case, as a newcomer, as an outsider, he knew you don’t belong in this world, considering how you tried to avert Aemond with diversion. You’re neither a royal nor a bastard. Though punishment can be given to anyone in the royal court or outside the Red Keep. Anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. Though of course Dorne accepted bastards.

Aemond’s intrusive thoughts overcame. A battle of restrain lashed out, when the prince approached towards the lush your sleeping figure. Your breath steadied at the rise and fall on your hilled breasts; the torn and worn out nightwear severely took a toll on the guards yanking you as if you’re a fragile doll.

If one’s act of taste that considers as a sin, then it’s a sin I shall give.

His head leaned forward, face closing to yours, tip of his tongue tingled as his left hand clasped on your head, the other rested on your waist as his tall body brought down on the bedside atop of your sleeping form. He had memorized, and counted the moles—once, as he lay himself to sleep in his quarters on the night after he first saw you. There’s a theory that moles came from a past lovers planting a kiss on empty spots. Aemond could offer you more. His tongue slithered on the soft line of your neck, and brought back to pucker with balmy smack, leaving a small trace of string silava coated on your now bruised skin.

Squirming underneath him, Aemond satisfied, humming, his right hand snaked on your waist, then fondling your left breast, pinching the taut nipple as he devoured the scent on you as he hungrily kissed your jawline and slope on your neck.

Earning a moan from you, Aemond spurred, his fingertips roamed on your breast and lowered down to your thigh, kneading. Your face—your lips—directly aligned to his, drawing a quiet sigh.

Adrenaline rushed in his veins, his body grew hot, trousers compacted with his engorged cock. He couldn’t get enough of you. The taste of you, your beauty and your fiery heart. He envisioned of what your face would be like, your voice would sound like, if you’re awake during the pleasurable intercourse or under his tantalizing fingers and mouth.

Countless footsteps skittered across the hall nearby. And so, Prince Aemond sat on the chair with his legs crossed and his elbows resting on the armrest behind the wall, spying on the maidservants passing by the opened door without batting an eye, maids chatting as always.

A hushed sigh of relief drew from his lips. By then, he looked at you one last time, spotted a love bite on your neck, before ushering himself out to go at the hall and disappeared with his lips, licking—tasted and lingered upon more ravaging thoughts of you.

~~~

Into a wide-ranged room, roofs decorated like constellations and metal works of the orrery, and the broad balconies garbed in light and ruffled curtains swaying. The council planned to use this room to divert the newcomer and persuade her to join hands and swore oath.

They have hoped that a new change of environment will appease her. Aemond couldn’t blame her; the Council room is filled with discrimination and accusations, despite his interest on becoming a sovereign—unlike Aegon who he rather be a sovereign in between someone’s legs at the brothels upon the Streets of Silk.

Regardless of Alicent’s cautionary, both Green sons lurked and eavesdropped on the members, who are more frantic and belligerent in comparison to previous meeting.

“She’ll be here,” Aegon teased. “Ser Arryk is coming to fetch her. Poor girl lost her way in the Red Keep.”

Aemond folded his hands behind his back, abiding, cold and calculating, and twice as tall, passed from Aegon’s stature.

“How long will she last, I wonder? With all the skills, beauty and remarks she has gotten,” Aegon emphasized on the word “beauty” as sarcasm, “do you think she’ll survive, even after the council? This is no easy task, of course, residing in Red Keep. The Blacks are here again. And Daemon didn’t come here alone.” His head jerked, indicating towards Rhaenyra. “I don’t suppose you’re aware, but the poor girl might risk her life again. Shocking how the Blacks and Greens weren’t showing hostility despite our shared past.”

Aemond watched within the presence of the council—Blacks and Greens united—without bloodshed. A bizarre sight to behold.

The doors creaked, and entering (y/n), following Ser Arryk.

The Blacks and Greens gaze with watchful eyes, tension rose as (y/n) proceeded closer and sat down on a vacant chair nearby the entrance door but struggled; Ser Arryk assisted her and perched down as she thanked him, returning a similar unnerving gaze back, unyielding even when appearing fragile. Her posture eased; she glimpsed at the decorated ceilings and tables with constellations.

It appears she likes it, Aemond thought.

Until her eye landed on Aegon and Aemond himself with her elbows rested on the left armchair, back slouching, eye concentrated intensely.

Aemond’s heart skipped that she faced him, in devoid of sheepish demeanor. And there, she smiled.

“Shall we get started?” Rhaenyra insisted.

(Y/n) couldn’t stop gawking at Aemond and Aegon.

“My lady,” Rhaenyra called out firmly, and (y/n) snapped back to actuality. (Y/n) eyed on everyone, then looked down onto her hands on the armrests.

Silence ensued. Then (y/n) requested to their introduction since they came to know (y/n)’s. All have introduced themselves—Hightowers and Targaryens. When Green brothers are finally introduced, Aemond spotted (y/n)’s lips curled a little; her dimple dented. But overall, she seemed happy throughout the introduction.

“First, we must address regarding to House Blackwood,” Otto drew the scrolled parchment, and distributed to (y/n) through the sentinel. “This letter is sent from a raven at this morrow.”

Sleeking her wavy strands—long curtain bangs back, she read the lines in the parchment. “Is this supposed to be a joke or something?”

“House Blackwood demands for your head, since they accused you of murdering Remon Blackwood,” Otto said. “Anything to have say in your defense?”

Tongue in cheek, (y/n) chortled, aloud for everyone to hear.

“Does killing others amuse you?” Daemon challenged. “Or would you rather a quick execution by a dragon for your childish act?”

“I’m sorry did you say dragons?”

Daemon unanswered her question, but she knew he wasn’t lying.

(Y/n) recollected herself. “It’s three knights that chased me, remember? They killed Ser Remon Blackwood long before they chased me. I used the blade he gave me, not the large swords.”

“There are other reports that the three knights are imposters,” one claimed. “That their faces aren’t quite as recognizable. And their armor and breastplates are entirely soft—a forge through cheap metal. Their blades and blunt and uncared for.”

“Must’ve been the rapers from the North.”

“Ser Criston, what was the weapon she was holding when you first found her in the woods? Was it a sword?”

“A fine blade that belongs to Remon Blackwood,” Criston replied.

(Y/n) sat there and released several guttural coughs, which got their attention.

“Are you alright?” Alicent concerned.

“I’m fine,” (y/n)’s voice croaked. Alicent ordered the servant to fetch the hot tea, to which you drank after being served.

“Has she drank the Milk of the Poppy,” Otto asked the Maester.

“Apparently she hasn’t drank any since this morning; deeply fell asleep.”

Relaxing in the chair, (Y/n) tossed her hair over to the side before she took out two objects again from the pockets on her nightwear and placed it onto her lips, and blew out smoke, but away from their direction.

“What are those objects that you possessed?” Daemon asked.

Crossing her legs, (y/n) blew out another smoke, her eyes glazed darkly, her demeanor changed as if it was an illusion. “This is the cigarette, and this is a lighter.” She demonstrated the items again, but only she’s precisely shown the golden lighter, carved in detailed dragon, and fire lit from the metal.

“Where are you really from?”

(Y/n) clicked the lighter shut. “I already told you last time,” her voice crossed.

“Are you a slave?” Rhaenyra asked.

(Y/n) is taken aback, brows scrunched, bewildered.

“Everyone saw the markings on your body,” Rhaenyra pointed out.

“No, I got these since I was young. Let’s cut to a chase. What do you want?”

The members of the council baffled at your straightforwardness.

“Since we’re here, I don’t intend on wasting anyone’s time,” she resumed, her voice hardened. “What do you want?” Her voice darkened.

“Are you aware to why you’ve been summoned in the council?” Otto questioned.

“Oh please, do enlighten me,” (y/n) said in sarcasm.

“Lady Rhaenyra has planned on you becoming a knight—you both saved the children and experienced in combat during the battle outside the Red Keep.”

(Y/n) laughed again, though not as cruel. In anger, the knight trudged towards her, but she stopped the knight with her left foot stomped on his breastplate, revealing the red dragon tattoo, your hand ran through your luscious hair; Aemond stared for so long that he ignored his surroundings. He found himself yearning to taste you again.

“At ease, good sir,” Alicent ordered. The knight backed off and your leg lifted down, crossing over to the other.

“Why refuse?” Rhaenyra challenged. “Do you wish to be executed from false charges?”

“You misinterpret me, my lady. Do you want to know what happens when you put a woman as part of the Kingsguard? People will riot. No man would accept a lady knight because they don’t want to be ashamed of not holding much power.” With her elbows propped, the upper body slouched, leaning forward, intensely gawking at their familiar mortified faces. “If anything that you should be worry about,” her index finger pointed outside behind (y/n) at the open archway; behind her is the town of King’s Landing, “it’s the people. People hold you on the highest regard; anything you do, they’ll use it against you. You have dragons,” she reasoned, counting on her fingers, “legions of army and holds the utmost reputation—everyone knows your name and your appearances distinguished from others. If laying a single mistake, people will make an excuse to take the opportunity to tarnish—even bring hell to Westeros. If you put two and two together, it’ll be difficult for people to accept as much as I want to help,” (y/n) cautioned.

Unused cigarette wafted in the crisp air—and (y/n) stomped on it with her fingers.

“As a matter of fact, I couldn’t agree more,” Jason Lannister encouraged. “Ladies are not suitable to guard for the ascendance of a potential heir. Women take longer to dress than men, after all they’re made to be dulled for a tedious hobby.”

Aemond disagreed, otherwise.

“Why save them?” Rhaenyra asked.

(Y/n) blinked.

“Being a child isn’t a sin,” (y/n) said, solemn. “They don’t deserve to what they’ve gone through.”

“Never thought you find this miserable,” Daemon said.

“I have soft spot for children and those who are broken.” She darted her eyes to Aemond once more.

Rhaenyra sighed, her hands enveloped, glancing at neutral Daemon next to her, poised. “We shall find an alternate option for you to abide here in King’s Landing—tasking the vital aspects of being part as the Red Keep’s vessel—everyone has their own role to play, knowing their place, and you’re no exception.”

Refusing, (y/n) inclined back into a relaxing position. “Figures,” (y/n) muttered, posture sank into the chair.

“I know it’s difficult to accept, but should you stay, you’ll learn a thing or two of the culture and the history, everyone around you included,” Rhaenyra suggested. “And we shall do the same to yours. Though the customary traditions in Westeros must steady. But it won’t mean you’re limited from freedom at the assets of your personal values and desires and expression.”

“It would be the wisest,” Rhaenyra added. “People won’t know and comprehend this, but us, despite you’ve given simplistic explanation of your vast side of the story.”

(Y/n) pondered; fingers tucked on her chin.

“They’ll never accept me,” (y/n) lectured, locks undulated in steady motion. “No matter how you vouch or reason for me, they won’t adapt; I’m just an outsider. It wouldn’t be as upsetting once I get hurt. They won’t understand yours or my intention if I decide to stay here. Or worse.”

“But there’s still a chance for you to prove yourself, allow your presence to be seen and heard,” Alicent coaxed.

Rhaenyra contemplated. “Or perhaps you could join us at Dragonstone,” she proclaimed, rather blithe. “Of course you’re free to choose.”

Aemond disliked the idea of you residing in Dragonstone as much as Alicent, based on displeasure etched onto their delicate and finely features, green as envy—as Hightower’s colored banner that summons war, strong gazes projected towards Rhaenyra like a serpent in the shadows.

Gritting and grinding her teeth, (y/n) tongue clicking. “No, I’m not staying in Dragonstone, either. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, consider how I “arrived”.”

Aemond’s breath unwinded. Flush smothered your cheekbones. Stared long enough until Aegon elbowed him in a single tap, as a reminder to stay focused.

“I’m afraid it’s far from possibility, since you came along way from the other vast side of your world. In the meantime, you must reside here in Westeros, in King’s Landing. We may never know your intentions, but it’s best to keep it simple and quick. Do tells us what you want.”

Refusing, (y/n)’s face turned away, sheepish.

“You want gold? Reputation?” Rhaenyra insisted, to which you answered “no”.

“Do you wish to possess a dragon?”

“First of all, dragons are hard to take care of. Two, I’m not a Targaryen! That’s your thing, not mine. I can’t even take care of my dog.”

“Then I assume you want the Iron Throne,” Daemon insisted, but the Blacks and Greens shot a piercing glare at him in unison, warning him not to give anymore ideas, but he awaited for (y/n)’s reaction.

“That chair looks uncomfortable! I’d rather sit on a cold ground rather than having an iron swords jabbed up and bleeding in my ass.”

Aegon snorted, covering his mouth when Otto noticed his grandsons, scowling.

“What can we do to convince you,” Alicent resumed, hands rest on the armchair.

“I don’t think you can help me on this one,” (y/n) said, begging them to let you go.

Rhaenyra maintained her posture. “Then what is it that you truly desire at this moment, Lady (y/n)?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Never.”

Shaking, deep in pensive notion after hearing their relentless offer disguised as blatant curiosity.

Silence prevailed, at first. Fireplace flickered, soft howls bypassed the constellation room. Everything stood still, as does their anticipation, weighing and resting on their fate of the house.

Rising onto her feet, and she got close and flatly pressed down to a cold stone pillar with her hand. “I want to see the ocean, the sky—the smell of salt and cloudy air. I want to feel the wind as I walk by, or draw and paint surrounded by flowers as I looked out onto the ocean as the ships sails by.”

“A very simple, mundane request,” Daemon commented, folded his arms. “Anyone could percept the instability of waves and ships passing through and the fragrant smell of blooming flowers.”

“Sometimes taking the simplest pleasures in life must cherish with joy and savor with love,” you told him, remaining your eye locked onto the waves, wobbling and crashing. “You’re a dragonlord, Prince Daemon, I think you should be grateful. As for me, I rarely get to see the ocean, because I lived somewhere far where it has no ocean, no flowers—the weather is humid and sometimes shows a little rain. On most days, hot air suffocates you to a point you want to drown in cold water.”

“There’s a chance people might conclude you’re from Dorne or Yiti. Or perhaps as Ser Criston’s sister.”

Aemond watched (y/n) shooting Daemon with a deadpan expression on her dulled hues. Criston, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate Daemon’s unnecessary commentary, but made no urging trifle.

“I’m not, and if I do, you would recognize the Dornish accent at this moment. Clearly you can’t. Sorry to disappoint you,” (y/n) replied, nonchalant.

“Anything else,” Rhaenyra asked, anticipating.

Silence occurred.

“What of other things you acquire to be more convincing,” Alicent chimed in, coaxing, sensing an alarming and animated expression hidden from you.

“Nothing,” (y/n) squeaked, though her cheeks flushed says so otherwise.

Aegon snorted as Aemond lifted the corners of his mouth into a piffling smirk—as he found your sudden expression unexpectedly chaste with shyness and charm.

“The matters settled, then,” Rhaenyra got up. “I look forward to see you and more. I expect great and admirable accomplishments from you, Lady (y/n). I think it’s that for now you must stay in the capital. If you do intend to serve the realm, I’ll reward you, anything to your heart’s desire. As long as you make contributions, we’ll make your dream as certain. In the meantime, that is.”

(Y/n) ventured in a languid motion near towards the members in the council. In the end, the favor on her side—Rhaenyra and Alicent’s request—might go smoothly if done right. But Aemond’s heart grew heavy at a thought of you leaving King’s Landing, leaving Westeros, feared you might not recall your ventures and people you encountered alongside of the journey—feared your mind and sight of seeing Westeros and its people are nothing but a figment dream.

Alicent pushed herself up from her reclining. “I shall do my part as well. You’ll do great things, I’m certain,” she assured (y/n), enfolded atop (y/n)’s cold hand.

Happiness faded from (y/n)’s lips when a cold end of the blade—Dark Sister—tipped and traced a thin line on her centered neck. Daemon’s violet eyes gleamed at hers; her hands raised an indication of surrender.

Aemond’s eye snapped in fury. The guards Rhaenyra accompanied clutched their blades, viewing like vultures standby.

“I’ll never trust a cunt like you,” Daemon proclaimed. “You may wield a blade, you may save anyone who you wish, but you’ll never be part of the court. The look in your eye—arrogant and maliciously stricken with pretense. Common whores like you—pretending to be humble and virtuous when you really are neither.”

Yet you fuck whores in the Streets of Silk on your pastime, Aemond thought.

Sighing, (y/n) said, “Then kill me. If you really think I’m dangerous to the Red Keep and to the monarchy like Ser Marrow claimed, then end me.” Then she gripped Dark Sister and pointed it at her chest daringly. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

He scoffed, despite Rhaenyra’s attempt on pushing Daemon back.

“Don’t speak to me as if you’re my equal. We are nothing alike.”

“Thank god I don’t have a cock, then,” (y/n) shot back, rolling your eyes. “I don’t have to worry whether I’m going to get gelded or not.”

Like a child, Aegon stifled his giggling.

“Fucking simpleton,” Daemon hissed, pressured the Dark Sister. “You know nothing of Westeros and its people. Might as well have your tongue remove. What say you, warrior?” he mocked.

“Seven Hells, Daemon, you’ve said enough,” Rhaenyra warned.

Aemond strode onward, never minding Alicent, who was rushing to his side, begging to not worsen an escalating quarrel. But Aemond paid no mind; his mother’s words drowned and emptied in his fueled rage.

“I saved both lives—a boy and a girl,” (y/n) protested. “I saved two young people who are separately belong from two mothers—who were at their near deaths. I saved you too, by the way. Guess it doesn’t matter, right?”

Daemon tsked. “And that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever save, considering your reputation has been nothing but meddlesome. I’m afraid your reasons on saving your neck has come to expire.”

Aemond trudged in front of (y/n), holding his long dagger and situated his honed silver on Daemon’s neck. He felt her cold hand pressed against his chest and gave a little push, but no to avail; she’s still weak under the Milk of the Poppy.

“Hold down your blade, Uncle,” Aemond warned. “You gave her quite a fright. I thought the deal has been final.”

“I never thought I’d take you as a fool, Aemond—that’s twice you’ve committed a sudden act.” Daemon’s lips curled in disgust. “Being blinded by her, I see.”

“She saved my sister’s life,” Aemond justified. “And I’m eternally grateful.”

Without shifting his eye, he saw you wandered your glance up to him before facing back to Daemon.

Aemond shifted closer, Targaryen against Targaryen.

“Take one more move, and you’ll lose another pair of your eyesight,” Daemon sneered. “What happens then, if I do cut your other eye out? So, shall we test it?”

(Y/n) managed to block herself in between Aemond and Daemon.

“Then I’ll be his other eye,” (y/n) declared, defended, one arm spread, shielding Aemond, the other hand held high against Daemon, bandage slipped from her visage.

All noise ceased.

Aemond’s heart quickened at a roaring declaration in a vibration on your tone—soft yet firm and fiery—like a dragon reborn.

“I’ll be his other eye,” she repeated, shielding Aemond. “Stay back,” she hissed at Aemond, insisting on shoving him back to lessen the tension between two factions. Aemond glimpsed at her shaken hand, yearning to hold her.

Even (y/n) knew a large cost of encountering Targaryens through fate, aside learning the history. Dragons never cower in their palace of red and gold of Red Keep, in a palace of black stoned walls of Dragonstone, their banners—sigils of red or green. Dragons come and reign in a price of fire and blood and fearsome, colossal beasts taming Westeros.

Knowing the consequences of her shared words, who knows what might occur depending on her unfickle judgement.

“You heard the maiden,” Aemond said with a smug on his face. “Release your blade, Uncle,” he commanded.

Grimaced, Daemon drew his sword back in his sheath, parting the gap, and endowed (y/n) and Aemond with imprisoned through his hues. “She’s no maiden. Perhaps I shall call her “Green’s bitch”.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed. Little by little, he stood inches near (y/n), like a proud and mighty dragon stood by its owner.

Watching close by, Rhaenyra and Alicent shared knowing glances.

Overhearing the sound behind them, the king produced an agonizing sound of his breath, (y/n)’s able to catch him from falling in brisk reflex.

“Get the maester, quick!” Alicent cried, as you are clinging onto the ailing king, who was moaning and groaning due to his severe ail.

Everyone made haste as Alicent and Rhaenyra assisted (y/n) on putting back Viserys onto his chair.

Adjusting the king’s posture, Alicent dimissed (y/n) by saying, “We shall talk later. I must tend to my husband. You go on ahead.”

And with that, the council adjourned—(y/n) ushered out, giving Aemond one last look with a slight bent on her neck.

With a final word, Aegon said to Aemond, as they trudged back to the halls. “Daemon took great pleasure in stirring commotion, especially a certain lady, who you’re so keen on.”

Aemond hasn’t utter a single word.

“Obviously, he has missed his youth involved with treachery and rebelliousness. I supposed these days have kept peace quite busy despite our father’s poor lapse of judgment.”

Aemond sauntered farther, but Aegon caught on in a same pace.

“I never knew you had it on you, dear brother. But was it really an act of good will for Helaena’s life or was it a pure instinct to an act of affection?”

“It was all for Helaena’s sake,” Aemond said.

Aegon leered. “Is it?”

From there, Aegon fled.

For once, Aegon never said something stupid or drunk.

Aemond stalked his mother on meeting (y/n) in the chambers he trudged in upon darkest shadows, carefully listening in.

Alicent came over, agitated even concealed in unsuccessful, mortified demeanor. “The Council has been reached to a verdict,” Alicent told (y/n), as if it’s a death sentence—probably the men discussed and finalized to an upcoming conclusion.

He watched as (y/n) was plopping onto the bedside, the last cigarette held between finger has thawed into ashes.

“I see,” (y/n) soften tone echoed the room, rippling against his skin.

Alicent touched (y/n)’s upper arm. “I apologize on behalf of the circumstances. I know it can’t be easy,” she said, sincere.

(Y/n)’s eyes twinkled.

“Despite Rhaenyra vouching for you for saving her son, you have declared of being Aemond’s other eye, and thus, your declaration brought an uprising of questions to the Blacks.”

(Y/n) acknowledged.

“A word of advice; should you wish to keep your wits and tongue, play your part, and keep your head down for the Blacks not to detect or test your patience,” Alicent said. “Common folk, even nobles tend to have ill intentions far from a plain gossip. Kingdoms tend to hatch a birth of vipers and stabbers every corner of the castle walls.”

“I’ll do it,” (y/n) said, without looking back at her, picking on her fingertips.

Alicent clasped her hands over (y/n)’s, and heaved. “Rhaenyra and I are in a current matters of discussion regarding of your future duties in King’s Landing. She proposed the idea of you being as the cupbearer while I proposed the idea of you being as Helaena’s handmaiden. Nothing has set in stone. We did so to ensure of your livelihood be at safest, to cease the gossip that has been spread far and wide regarding to your arrival. But first, the king must anoint you at the throne room for a private ceremony—no audience shall be present.”

You stayed silent; your right hand stroke your left wrist; the feeling the absence without your possession.

“Is something the matter?”

(Y/n) shook your head, light-headed.

“In time of fear and change, that is where you must be brave,” Alicent advised, eyes glistened.

Aemond has never heard of Alicent—his mother—spoken ever so motherly to anyone, not even Aegon.

A sudden shift glided in you when you have decided what to do as (y/n)’s role in King’s Landing. “I’ll bend the knee.”

Alicent’s dulled eyes brightened at your answer. “Then I shall inform my husband regarding to your call.” She laid her hand on (y/n)’s shoulder blade.

Once she stood up, (y/n) bid Alicent goodnight.

And Aemond stayed in the dark, and the only words replaying in his mind are the words she declared opposing the Rogue Prince.

I’ll be his other eye.

The way you shielded his body and ordered him to shift back, Aemond knew that no noble woman or commoner in any Houses would defend him and his honor as a Targaryen and Hightower. Or more than his status as a one-eyed prince. As a swordsman, he can hold off his battles, even in close quarters, but something about you, a strong-headed girl, who knew of little consequences, protected him that he find as devilishly unique.

His mind stirred in a matter of battling between whether he want to fight your battles or claim you.

Perhaps both.

Aemond had certainly come to a closure, a predetermined arrangement of taking you, but obstacles must come forth before a dragon claims the maiden as his crown, glory and a hymn that he won’t mind spend the rest of his life hearing.

Upon a daylight hour, the decision came to a close when both Greens and Blacks debated to assigning on (y/n)’s fate for the realm, despite a given answer. In the end, King Viserys has a final say, which both factions surrendered for an hesitant agreement. In the Red Keep, guest of nobles and common folk alike flocked inside to a point where it’s nearly and impossible to fit, all awaiting, all mind shared one reason.

Hours before the occurrence in the throne room, in Aemond’s quarters, two servants awoke him to bathe, and one maid provided him information regarding to (y/n)—the Maester inspected and mended on her wounds once more before withdrawing. Her eye, however, is healed, just as it was yesterday when she ripped the bandage off.

In the throne, there she was, blocked by tall members of the Kingsguard.

He imagined that a maidservant tugged the strings harder for a cinched waist, despite this, (y/n) cooperated without a fight. Knowing resistance will bring disaster. Until a thought of disaster is long gone. From there, the guards veiled for (y/n) to cross passage towards the steps of the Iron Throne, seeing upon a pristined condition—clad to an outfit befitting for a youthful and appeased maiden to soften at the hardened image of a brute fighter. Her straight long (h/c) locks with thick stands braided as headband atop of her head; strands of baby hair left untouched, and soft paint dabbed it on your chapped lips and cheekbones, tainted in reddish shade to liven your surly visage.

King Viserys proclaimed and summoned (y/n); she knelt with a hand over her chest, head inclining down that her long (h/c) locks framed on sides, reciting her vows. King Viserys crowned her with a green brooch with a four-pointed star sigil pinned on her centered chest once she stood.

“As a last hope for a darkened age within House Targaryen, in hopes to reunite both factions,” King Viserys announced, hoarse. “Salvation rests in your hands. I wish you nothing but the very best to soothe the realm with your grace, Lady Greenstar.”

Two factions appalled at his last claim underneath their vacant neutrality in their hues. Spectators gathered and exchanged in gossip, all frantic and perplexed from their King’s announcement.

A girl from a modern century has been remade through rain of fire and light, befall and rose from sky. Arise onto her feet, who peered upon audience, before the eyes of the two factions, who solely darting her eyes to Aemond, as if she wanted him to sense her heart is surged with heaviness, rebirth as Lady Greenstar.

Aemond did—but couldn’t offer the arms of comfort. His fierce and benevolent maiden. But in the eyes of Gods, Westeros won’t lay rest, as he keeps his ardor hidden.

And chaos entered.

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@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved.

[from-now-on-im-switzerland]

Oh mah God, your jasper fanfics are so stinking cute! A continuation of the baseball one would be perfect!

Like maybe after hanging out with her the feelings get stronger and he decides to distance himself in worry, and the reader, albeit confused, respects him and is a little heartbroken. Maybe at one point he worries about her for a moment when Emmett tells her she didn't look well (she's sleep deprived from stressing about him but trying to keep it to herself) so he pulls a creepy (can't find a better word) Edward and shows up outside her room and senses her heartbroken ness and feels like he has it too but brushes it off thinking it's just hers instead of his own. She starts getting closer to the wolfs and he tries acting like it doesn't bother him and pretends he could care less when she starts sitting with them in the cafeteria after he shows back up at school. And it's not until Alice has a vision of her getting discovered by volturi and "ended" that he starts keeping an eye on her again, and when a guard of the volturi blends in at the school and he notices does things begin and yeah....or something like that lol take the idea into your jar of boredom writing or something 😂

I feel like you'd write this perfectly! And spot on with the jasper and his accent..

Uhm...YES!? You're so creative this is such a good idea. I should be doing my college coursework right now, but this is all I'll think about so I'm doing it right now!! Also forgive the gammer 🥲😫

Okay, it won't be a DIRECT continuation of the Baseball one-shot bc it's already part of of a different fic I'm writing. I'm just gonna take out Y/n's friends but the baseball game still happened okay?

(sorry 🙏) (I don't know if that made sense.)

>I just like the cold.

>Jasperxf¡reader

>As I said, not a direct continuation but instead the start of a new series? (lmk)

>could be a tad longer that what I'd usually write 🥲

>TW, Panic Attack

°Jasper's POV°

When I saw her eyes for the first time, in that cramped hallway, I melted inside. My icey veins (filled with the venom that could end her life in an instant) were fueled with warmth as they must've once been long before. And that all too familiar burning sensation at the back of my throat hasn't left me alone since I caught her scent for the first time.

I thought it was just me being hungry. I hadn't eaten that day and it could've been that she just had tasty smelling blood. But knowing my luck, that obviously wasn't it. I can't put my family through this again, I just can't. I've tried to maintain a friendship with her for the fair few weeks she's been here but it's getting harder and harder.

I can't believe I was once angry or annoyed with Edward for falling for a human. I guess karma's a bitch huh? Y/n has no clue about my feelings, I hope. Why would I tell her? So I think it's best, for her safety if I just stop being friends with her. It'll keep her so much safer I know it will.

"I thought that too" Edward said, appearing in the corner of my room.

I didn't jump, I heard him race up the stairs.

"What?" I asked, annoyed I was interrupted by Mr Thought Police himself.

"About Bella. Remember when we left for half a year? And I left her? I thought it'd make her happy. Safe. But it took us both almost dying for me to realise we were safer together.." Edward said, reminding me of the very thing I wanted to try and avoid.

"But that's you, Eddie. You and Bella, by then she already loved you, by then she knew the risk and by then it was too late for stupid mistakes. I'm in a grey area right now, where she doesn't know a damn thing and I just want to keep her safe." I said, sighing as I heard Emmett approach my room aswell.

"Bro, she really likes us.." Emmett said, racing over to the other corner of my room. "I mean for some reason you specifically, but she's told me! We're actually like best friends now so if you want me to be the middle man..just let me know." He said, winking.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I've seen you together before, walking around the school. You've been especially close ever since you almost abliterated her head with a baseball...but oh well."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Jasper?" Emmett teased. Edward laughed as he joined our brother over at his side of my room.

"No Emmett you don't, because I have no right to be jealous in the first place, she's not mine to be jealous over." I said, not meeting thier eyes.

"But you want her to be." Edward said.

This drew my attention as I looked up and saw his face. Care and amusement radiating off of him.

"I'm glad you find my dilemma so amusing, none of us ever laughed at you, you moody asshole" I said, throwing a pillow full force in his direction.

He caught it. "It's just funny to see how much of a little boy you're being about something that is so crystal clear" he said, tossing back the pillow.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" I asked, fed up now.

"She's your singer. Just like Bella was mine. I've heard your thoughts, they're too loud to ignore. That feeling? that burning? It's nothing you've felt around anyone else is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, but I don't want to have to go through the same old debate of “do we turn her or not” and that's even if she feels the same way.." I said.

"Dude, you're literally an empath. You can find out yourself" Emmett said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I hate using my gift on her as it is. The thought of manipulating her in any way makes my skin crawl, alright? If it's to help her then I can deal with it but I won't just use it to be nosy, that's not fair" I said. "you can still be friends with her if you want Emmett but I can't do it. I won't let myself drag her into this life. I know you wanted the same thing for Bella, Edward but maybe I can make it happen for Y/n. If anyone deserves a blessed life, it's her." I said, walking out my room, speeding out the house and into the forest to clear my head.

I just need to keep away from her. I'll keep her safe that way.

°Reader's POV°

This week had been..strange. Emmett had been even more friendly then he usually was; it was perhaps due to the fact that he could've killed me the other week with that baseball, but y'know, life goes on. And at no point had I even had a chance to speak to Jasper. Even in class, he'd moved seats. Of course, that was his last resort after they wouldn't let him change his lesson plan.

It ached my heart a little because, I really liked him and for some reason it's like a flip had been switched in his brain and he no longer wanted anything to do with me. It was Friday, and I was determined to atleast get a conversation with him.

While Emmett was babbling on about something to do with gorillas, I interrupted him. "Emmett when did you..uh...see Jasper last?" I asked.

"last I saw he was with Rose and Bella in the cafeteria.." I saw a small glint in his eye as he answered. "But..i don't think he wants to talk to you.." he said just as I began to walk off.

"Have I done something wrong? Did I say something? Is he..is he mad at me for something? Why won't he speak to me?" I rattled off a few of the questions I'd kept to myself all week.

"Woah, calm down. It's..." he hesitated. "it's not my place to say but I think he might just be trying to avoid talking to you because he knows if he does, he won't be able to not talk to you. " he said, in a really confusing tone.

"You've complicated this way too much than you needed to. Is he still there now?" I asked reffering to where he said he saw him.

"Pretty sure, yeah."

I took off without a thank you, which I felt bad about, but I was too focused on getting that conversation with Jasper.

I was almost running to the cafeteria, as I knew the bell was going to ring at any moment. I made it in the cafeteria and spotted him immediately, and he saw me too. His eyes met mine for less than half a second, before he looked to the floor.

He left his conversation with his sisters and went to walk out the opposite way that I was coming in. I ran this time, and caught up to him.

"Hey! What's going on? Have I done something?" I asked, needing answers.

He audibly sighed and closed his eyes, breathing in. "No, you haven't. You haven't done a thing, I promise." He said, and began to walk away again. I moved infront of him to stop him from walking away.

"Don't walk away from me, I wasn't finished. If I haven't done anything then what's the issue? Why can't you talk to me I want to be here for you." I tried to take a hold of his hands but he wouldn't let me touch him. And he didn't meet my eyes, he refused to even look at my face.

"Because...Y/n" I heard his voice shaking. "I just can't be around you, it's not your fault, you're not the reason why I just-" he paused, and bit his inner lip. "I just can't okay?" he said, pushing past me. He sped off down the hall not looking back, leaving me behind.

The bell rang through the halls, louder than I'd ever heard it before. It started to hurt my ears but my eyes couldn't pull away from his figure.

Tears swirled in my eyes as I watched him walk off, and my breath quickened. Then, what I feared, that feeling tightened up in my chest. No. Not a panic attack. I can't, not at school. I took one last look at Jasper walking off before racing back out of the cafeteria and into the school parking lot.

The cold air hit me like a kind wave, and the small droplets of rain coated my face as I looked up at the sky, desperaty wanting it to swallow me whole. It was a small sense of relief before the feeling washed back in like the tide. I ditched my backpack and jacket, throwing them on the floor, needing the coldness on my skin. I tried to slow my breathing down but it wasn't working. I made my way down the steps, now in a short sleeve t-shirt, tripping slightly on the last step as I made my way across the lot. My breathing wasn't slowing and I couldn't stop it, I guess I'd just have to ride it out.

"..Y/n?" I heard from the trees.

I span around, my breath not halting and my panic increasing. As my heart rate was about to rocket even more, Seth Clearwater stumbled out from the trees. I had met him a few times, he and his friends all the way down at the Reservation were good friends with the Cullens.

"Seth?" I aksed, I didn't want to start hallucinating people. That would be a whole new area for me that I wouldn't be able to keep up with.

He made his way over to me. "Yeah, it's me. It's Seth. What's going on? Hey...hey" he was inches away from me now. I tied to move away but he stepped closer in fear I was going to somehow hurt myself. My tears wouldn't stop and my head was looking very which way "Y/n. Look at me."

His order sent a small shockwave into me for a second and I snapped my eyes up, his face blurred due to the tears streaming from my eyes. He took his thumbs and wiped under my eyes, but new tears replaced the stains he wiped away.

"Breathe with me okay?" he asked.

I wanted to try, there's nothing I hate more than this shit. But sometimes you can't help but just ride out the attack until it's done. I nodded my head vigorously and he began to breathe, waiting for me to follow suit.

"Okay in..." he took a breath in and let it out softly. "..and out.."

I tried my best to follow suit but my throat needed as much air as it could get. And it kept speeding up the pattern.

"No Y/n with me, c'mon you got this.." he said, holding my hands.

"In.." he breathed in once again and I followed suit. "and out" he breathed out again.

Slowly but surely my breathing returned to a somewhat normal pace but my shaking didn't stop.

"there you go.." he continued the pattern as he slowly walked me over to a stone wall, and sat me down.

"You're freezing, Y/n." he said, touching my cheek after wiping yet another tear..

"I'll be fine..I like the cold when these things happen.." I laughed slightly, to ease the awkwardness, if there was any.

"I know, it helps a lot doesn't it?" he said, sitting down next to me.

"wait, you've-"

"yep" he cut me off, with a sheepish smile. "I get it. You're inside somewhere when that ugly feeling hits. You beeline it for the nearest exist and the air just gives you something else to feel. It doesn't stop it, but it definitely helps. The cold, it..it helps you feel something different other than that thing in your chest.." he said, describing what it was like for him.

I nodded along as he said so. "yeah..that's...exactly it." I smiled.

He looked up from staring at his feet and smiled back at me, before frowning. "Y/n your lips are slowly going blue, I know how much the cold helps but I won't let you catch hypothermia.." Seth said, pulling me into his chest and offering me a hug.

He was so so warm. It wasn't a stuffy warm either, the kind of warm where you feel sticky. It was that cozy warmth. That homely warmth on a winter morning.

I shivered in his arms at the contact. "Oh..jeez your pretty hot. Are you ill or something?" I asked.

He chuckled slightly. "No Y/n, I'm just a warm person.." he admitted.

"C'mon, let's get you back inside.." he said, rising us up to our feet.

"No!" I wriggled out of his grip, my heart fluttering again, in slight panic. I feel if I see him again today, I'll get worse.

He took hold of me again gently. "Okay..I'll take you home yeah? We just gotta grab your stuff that you graciously dumped on the stairs.." he said, smiling.

I laughed slightly as we walked slowly over to the steps. He jogged up them and picked up my stuff. He placed my jacket over my shoulders and carried my bag over to my car.

He walked confidently over to the drivers seat.

"I swear you're like..16 can you even drive?" I asked, a smile paying on my lips.

"I'm 17 now actually. And it's fine don't worry, hop in" he said, unlocking the car with my keys he must've taken from my pocket.

We got in the car and threw our seat belts on.

"Thanks for this Seth. Aren't you missing a lesson right now though?" I asked, I didn't want to ruin his education.

"Oh nah, me and the boys are on a part time timetable for this school and the one down by the Rez, so don't worry about it...anyways.....where's the handbreak?"

My eyes shot in his direction only to see him holding in a laugh.

"Uh. What do you mean where's the handbreak?" I asked.

He finally giggled. "Don't worry, I'm just joking. We'll be fine. I've never been to your house though, so you can be my sat nav" he smiled turning on the car, and pulling out of the car park.

°Jasper's POV°

I walked away from her. Every fibre of my being telling me to look back. I fought against it, but gave in. I looked back and saw a glimpse of her as she rushed out of the cafeteria.

What am I doing?

I felt the dread and panic leaking from her as I started to walk away. And I just left her. I left her feeling that way. I know I'm doing this to keep her safe but I can't pretend that I'm perfect, leaving her in fear.

Special thanks to my power, I'm extremely sensitive to even my own emotions and with years of practice I've managed to get a good control of it, but Y/n..I feel her emotions so much more than anyone else's.

My still heart is telling me not to go near her, to keep her safe...but her scent, as much as it tempts me, it deals me a great source of comfort..I can't explain it. I'm near her and I feel safe. I'm a monster and have nothing to fear really, but in her presence it's like we're the only two on earth.

Which is why I must do this. I can't that let angel be manipulated by the devil deep inside me. I won't allow it.

I let out the breath I was holding in during that encounter, again not that I needed to, but I think people would notice if I wasn't breathing. I made my way to the science block and yippee! I was next to Sire Brain Detective and his wife.

I was waiting outside the classroom to catch Bella before Edward got there. I caught her scent in the hallway and rushed to her side.

"Hey Bella, can you just maybe kinda block my thoughts from Edward please?" I asked, a sheepish smile following close behind.

"Why?" She asked, squinting her eyes a little.

"Well you've never had the problem, but Edward is very nosy. And I'd just like my thoughts kept to myself for today." I said.

We kept on walking into the classroom and to our seats.

"So it's nothing to do with Y/n then?" she quizzed.

Even hearing her name makes me feel sick.

"No. Bella..just please can you do it?" I was begging her at this point as I smelled Edward down the corridor.

She looked up as she caught his scent too. "Okay, but you owe me" she said.

"Thanks Bella." I said.

Edward walked in the class and met my eyes immediately, a hint of confusion crossed his face before he sat down next to his wife and realised. "Oh c'mon how is that fair?" he said.

"How is what fair?" Me and Bella said at the same time. We looked at eachother breifely before opening out books as instructed to.

°Reader's POV°

Awkward, sweaty and sleepless. That's all I feel right now. I close my eyes and he's there. I open my eyes an he's all I can imagine. Everything I tried, I couldn't get him off my mind. I even tried counting sheep, but the sheep soon morphed themselves into horses, then I soon saw him riding a horse, actually imagining him as a Cowboy. I snapped my eyes open and drank some water I left by the side of my bed, before making a last attempt to get some sleep.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning in the same directions over and over again, I got up and opened my window. Again, the cold air washed over me and it was almost instant relief. Just like Seth said, it gives you something else to feel.

I watched the trees as they swayed in the wind, thier green leaves brushing against eachother at each breeze. Out of all the places my Mum had placed me while she did her book tour, Washington was probably my favourite so far, well specifically Forks. Since the beginning of the year, (when my Mum's book tour started) I'd been placed in a random city in the state she needed to visit, and Forks was this really nice and small town. Where everyone knew everyone. Of course, the thought of litteraly everyone talking about me as the new arrival didn't appeal to me at all, but when I had moments to myself, it was impossible for me not to gawk at the nature around me. The grey skies, while annoying to some, gave me a nice comforting feeling. The rain, which everyone hated, was my favourite weather. I don't know what it was.. I guess I just like the cold.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my phone buzzed under my pillow. It was my mum calling, I answered of course, but I wandered why she was calling at 4am.

"Mum? what's up?" I asked, trying to hide my tired voice.

"Oh my god Y/n I'm so sorry.. I forgot about the time zones...go back to sleep, I'll ring you at a better time.." she said.

"wait what do you mean the time zones? you're in Washington too?" I questioned, wandering what she meant.

"No..honey, that's why I called. I got to my hotel and they said they had my reservation booked for next year, so they flew me out to the state I was supposed to be in." She said, sounding ashamed. "I tried to mention you, and say how I could catch my own flight..but.. they-they wouldn't listen to me..."

"Mum... Mum it's okay, don't worry about it I'll be fine okay? Just make me proud." I said.

"but I only gave you enough money to last a couple months not over a year..nearly two! And you're in your last year of school, what will you do all day? How-"

"Mum" I cut her off "I'll get a job, it'll be fine. You've been doing book tours since I was like 15, I know how to live on my own." I said.

"but that was when you were 5 minutes down the road...or a bus drive away..now I'm on the other side of the country!" She panicked.

"wait, the other side of the country? where did they fly you to?" I asked. The phone went silent for a few seconds before she answered.

"I'm in Georgia, honey.." She said. "I called you as soon as I had time, I'm sorry I've left you there, I can book a flight and cancel the tour-"

"-No, Mum don't. I'm not gonna pretend hearing you were in Georgia didn't scare me a little bit, but I'm perfectly fine here in Forks. I like it here.." I said honestly.

"but honey-"

"No 'buts'." I said. "Mum some kids leave the nest at early ages, some never leave..maybe it's my time to make a life for myself.." I said, with tears threatening to spill.

"I-in Washington, are you sure?" Mum's voice was shaking by now.

"Mum, I'm old enough. I know it's scary, it'll be difficult too but.. sometimes life just throws you in a new direction and you can't help but see where it takes you.." I said, wiping a tear from my cheek.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one full of wisdom little lady" she joked. "well...I guess it isn't the craziest idea you've had." she said, sadly.

"so yeah?" I asked.

She took a deep breath "Yes Y/n, yes. Start your life.." she said.

"Okay.." I said.

It wasn't long before I was off the phone and trying to sleep again. I prayed when I rested my head on the pillow, he wouldn't plug my mind, but much to my dismay he returned and my heart ached.

I closed my eyes and managed to drift off to sleep just before my alarm rang for me to start getting ready for school. The ringing of the bell threw me back to that moment. That moment he left. Just like that.

°Emmett's POV°

Since the day Jasper told Y/n that he couldn't be near her anymore, she hasn't been in. And I'm worried about how she's taken it.

I didn't tell Jasper I was gonna go pick Y/n up today as I didn't want him to go all emo and be like “ugh you're gonna smell like her all day!” so I instead took my absolutely, positively, non-judgemental wife.

"So why are we on our way to a humans house right now?" Rose asked me from the passenger's seat of my jeep. "what purpose is she serving us other than pleasing our noses?"

"Babe, she's my friend..and I'm worried about how she is. She didn't come in at all last week since Jasper didn't want anything to do with her, and I'm not gonna let my idiot of a brother be the reason she fails school.." I said, keeping my eyes on the road.

Rose went silent and looked out the window. "Just let me know when we're there.." she said, closing her eyes.

"That would be now.." I said, pulling up outside her house.

I got out the jeep while Rose stayed in, and made my way to the front door. I hesitated before knocking and waited for an answer. A good minute went by, so I knocked again and as I did, the door flew open.

"I told you three times already, Mrs Henderson doesn't live here anym-" she cut herself off when she saw my amused face.

She rubbed her eyes. "Emmett?"

"The one and only!" I replied.

"What are you doing here?" her voice was drained, and she looked a lot less bubbly than before. Her eyes drooped slightly and dark circles hung below them from lack of sleep.

"To get you to school, missy!" I said, not wanting to comment about the elephant in the room.

"But Emmett, Jasper said-"

"Fuck what Jasper said, it's your life and it's your school too. What..just because he's being a little bitch right now that means you can't get educated? I don't see how that's fair.." I said, crossing my arms.

She rolled her half-lidded eyes. "Okay, let me get changed.." she said, turning back into her house and shutting the door.

I celebrated my victory behind the wood of the closed door and waited for her to open it again. I sat on the step and prepared to wait, when the door swung open again. She stepped out with all her stuff. "C'mon then, let's go." she said, plastering on a fake smile.

"I thought you were atleast gonna cook some breakfast? It's like half seven in the morning..." I said, standing up and leading her to the jeep.

"Nah...not hungry." she said, climbing in.

I got in too, and put the radio back on.

"Hey Rosalie" Y/n said, tiredly a sheepish smile across her face.

My head quickly turned to my wife and I begged her with my eyes to be nice. But she didn't even look at me and instead looked for Y/n in the wing mirror.

"Jasper's an idiot, but he cares about you and he's doing this for your own good, I'd take it as a win." she said, before closing her eyes again and turning up the radio.

I started the jeep up again after a small awkward silence with nothing but the music blaring and began to drive to the school.

"yeah but does he know how much it's actually hurting?" Y/n whispered, any normal person wouldn't have heard it but of course me being a beautiful, immortal, gifted being...I did.

Passing through the familiar streets of Forks, it didn't take me long to get to the school, I parked the jeep and Rose got out. I turned around in my seat to face Y/n. Her sleep-deprived look catching me off guard once again.

"You ready girl?" I asked, grinning.

She sighed. "Not really, Emmett" she replied sadly, staring at a particular stone wall in the car park.

"Well c'mon, you got this. Let's go" I said, getting out.

It wasn't long before she climbed out herself. As she shut the door.

"Thanks for dragging me in Emmett, but I'm gonna go incase he appears from around the corner or something.." she said, with low energy as she dragged her feet toward the doors of the school.

°Reader's POV°

I couldn't thank Emmett more, I wouldn't have been able to get here on my own accord. It's just a shame I didn't have the energy to express my gratitude to him as much as I wanted to.

It was about 10 minutes until my first lesson so I walked to the cafeteria to get a drink. As I opened the doors, I saw Seth and some of his friends from the Rez sat at a table and so I wasted no time in going over there.

"What are you lot doing here?" I asked.

"Part time, time-table in each school! How do you keep forgetting that?" one of them said.

"Uhm..Seth?" I looked to him for help, I could barely remember any of the other's names.

"Alright, sit down." he pulled a chair from the table behind him and turned it next to him, facing their table. "Here we have Quil, Leah my sister, and Embry." he said.

I had only met the rest of them once but Seth I had seen a number of times, and he's who I was closest to...now for a very obvious reason.

"So what's your first lesson?" Quil asked.

"Science.." I said quietly, biting the inside of my cheek afterward to simmer down the anxiety I felt creeping in.

I started boucing my leg too, which Seth took notice to. He offered me a smile, which I returned, weak as ever.

The bell rang, louder than before, and I covered my ears, burying my head down against my chest. Each time I hear that bastard bell it gets louder and louder, and the memory of that last conversation with him gets clearer and clearer in my mind.

°Jasper's POV°

"I'm telling you man..she's-"

Emmett would not stop. I told him I didn't want to hear it, but he was following me all over our house, not leaving me alone.

"her eyes don't look the same, she doesn't have nearly as much energy as she used to, I haven't seen her smile, and if I'm being honest I don't think she's eating properly.." Emmett said.

Hearing his words made my non-beating heart ache.

"I've been picking her up all week and she never eats breakfast, and when was the last time I saw her eating in the cafeteria? Uhh let me think, I haven't!" he said, in my face.

I was looking at the floor, guilt riddling my body. She's like this because of me.

"I get it. Emmett. Okay?" I spat, my voice quavering.

He moved back slowly, almost realising that this was hurting me too, and left my room.

After staring out the window for another moment or two, I sped off out the house before anyone could question it. I ducked and dived between branches, breaking them if they were too big for me to dodge. I raced through the woods rembering the route to her house when I met her before school, when we first started to talk to each other. I ran to her. Wondering what I was going to do when I got there, would I beg her to forgive me? Would I stop this madness and just tell her everything? At this point, I couldn't see anything but her angelic face, and hear her sweet voice and before I knew it, I came to a swift stop by the trees of her house.

I approached it slowly, still deciding what to do, until I lingered by the side of the house where her bedroom was. I climbed up a tree that rested just by it and waited to see her or atleast hear her.

"fuck sake..just go away!" I heard her complain as she slammed the door to her bedroom. "You don't want anything to do with me so why won't you get out of my head!" She panicked, her voice wailing as she spoke.

"It's not fair.." she said after a minute of silence. She got up. "It's not fair." she repeated. She tossed her chair on the floor. "It's not fair!" she threw a picture frame against the wall. She repeated those three words, growing more aggressive each time and trashing a new part of her room until she ran out of energy.

She breathed heavily and sunk against the wall, sobbing. She cried, and it was like a thousand hot knives were cutting me all over. She cried and I had to fight as hard as I could not to rush in there.

She cried and I felt heartbreak. My breath quickened too, as her emotions laced with my own. Sat in the tree in that moment I didn't know which emotions were mine and which were hers.

She cried and cried until she fell asleep, and that's when some of her emotions filtered away from my body. Though she fell asleep and tears were still staining her cheeks, the aching in my heart wouldn't leave or subside. It stayed.

[criminalamnesia]

Could I request a harwin x Targaryen reader? Like she’s the twin or sister of Rhaenyra and is somewhat sickly/quiet and never got out much until Aegon’s name day, so harwin sees her and its love at first sight?? I’m just dying for harwin fluff

I love this request! You guys honestly have the best ideas. I hope this alright!

Don’t Be A Stranger

warnings: targaryen!f!reader, reader is Rhaenyra’s twin, mentions of illness, not proofread

summary: you’re finally allowed out of the keep for Aegon’s name day hunt.

author’s note: let me know if you guys want a Harwin’s POV of this 👀

You had been a prisoner of the red keep since your birth. Perhaps it was some cruel stroke of fate- some god laughing from high above as he cursed your family with another ill-fated child.

'At least you lived,' Rhaenyra told you once, holding your hand with the lightest of touches- scared you would break if even one breath touched your fragile skin.

Was this living? It couldn't be.

Day in and day out, confined to your bed. Your quarters. Perhaps the corridor, if you felt up to it. You were a prisoner, yes. A prisoner in your sickly body, in your frail bones and pale skin.

You longed to see the world. You dove headfirst into history- the seven kingdoms, Old Valryia, lords and ladies of the realm- anything and everything you could get your hands on to imagine a world outside of that damned bed.

It was enough, until it wasn't. You begged Rhaenyra to sneak you out. Begged her to help you live. She refused.

The realm knew your elder twin as 'The Realm's Delight'. They knew you as 'The Ghost Princess'. You thought the name was suitable, even if your sister and your father and anyone who dared to get close tried to comfort you about it.

There was nothing to comfort. You had tired of comforting. You wanted to get out and see something other than the stone walls of the keep before you lost your mind along with your health.

And so, you formulated a plan.

You had seen Alicent a few times throughout your years. She had seemed kind, until she had wronged Rhaenyra- but there was not much you could do about that.

However you felt about Alicent, you could not deny that you were grateful for her actions at this moment.

"Aegon's name day is coming up," Rhaenyra told you one day, sitting in her usual spot on the side of your bed. Her thumb traced little circles onto the back of your hand. "There's to be a big hunt in honor of it. Bit ridiculous, if you ask me."

You snorted, knowing very well that your and Rhaenyra's name day was also a famously extravagant affair- even if you could not join the festivities.

"When's the hunt?" You asked her.

"A fortnight. Preparations have begun now, of course. The keep is quite mad at the moment. Be glad you do not have to experience it."

You frowned slightly at her statement, glancing towards the lone window in your room.

"Apologies, sister, I did not mean-"

"It's alright, Rhaenyra. I understood." You turned back to look at her, nodding your head in reassurance. She gave your hand a light squeeze.

Although she was still annoyingly cautious around you, Rhaenyra had realized that over the years, you would not break at the slightest touch. So, she had stopped fretting over the smallest of brushes of skin. Mostly. You'd take what you could get.

"The Maester says I'm doing much better," you commented, watching your twin's face as you spoke. "Perhaps I will be allowed to join everyone for the occasion."

Rhaenyra's eyebrows rose in surprise, pulling her hand from yours. "I do not know if that is a good idea. We're to ride to the Godswood, and it can be quite a bumpy journey-"

"I am not glass, Rhaenyra. I will not break at the slightest jostle."

"I know, I just worry-"

"You and everyone else," you huffed, cutting her off. She frowned, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at you.

"Is this something you really want to do? These hunts are famously boring. You will be forced to sit and listen to the ladies of the court complain and throw insults disguised as compliments at one another."

"I want nothing more," you smiled, to which Rhaenyra shook her head.

"Please, sister. Tell me truthfully."

"Yes. I long to leave these walls, even if my first breath outside is my last."

"That was quite dramatic," Rhaenyra spoke after a moment. "You should be a poet."

"I've pondered that thought," you told her, to which she laughed.

The two of you fell silent, Rhaenyra looking at you with a conflicted expression. You could not tell what she was thinking, and you were almost positive she was going to tell you that it was too risky.

But then she said, “I’ll speak to father.”

Your eyebrows lifted, eyes lighting up in glee and excitement. “You will?”

Your sister nodded her head, lips spreading into a small smile at your glee. “Of course. I cannot guarantee what he will say, but I will fight for you.”

“Thank you, Rhaenyra. I am in your debt,” you told her, reaching forward to grasp one of her hands. She looked down at your fingers as they intertwined.

“Nonsense. I am simply doing what you would do for me should the roles be reversed.” Rhaenyra said, and you hummed.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling her’s from your grasp, leaning forward to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“I will go speak to father now. I’m to see him about a few matters anyhow. I will et you know as soon as I can.”

You nodded as you watched her stand. “Thank you, sister.”

She nodded before turning and leaving. When the door shut behind her, you closed your eyes tightly and prayed to whatever god was listening that your father would say yes.

—

Viserys had said no.

Rhaenyra had argued with him for an hour over the matter after she left you, but he had not budged. He could not bear to lose another child, he said. Rhaenyra had scoffed.

She had not told you of your father’s words. As a matter of fact, she did not return to your quarters at all after seeing your father. She didn’t return the next day, either. Or the next.

You had been confused, but you knew what Rhaenyra’s absence had to have meant. Viserys had said no, and she was too busy preparing for the hunt to tell you the news. She probably didn’t want to, anyways. She had always hated seeing you upset.

A week after Rhaenyra had said she would speak to Viserys on the matter, she returned with a grand smile. She practically burst into your quarters, the wooden door slamming into the stone wall it attached to.

“He said yes!” She cried, rushing to your bedside. “Apologies for being absent, I was quite taken with preparations and arguing with our father–” she spoke fast, the words fighting to leave her tongue. “But he finally acquiesced. You are to join us on the hunt, as long as the maesters say you are fit to do so.”

“Oh, thank you Rhaenyra!” You squealed, leaning forward to throw your arms around her in an embrace. Slightly shocked, it took Rhaenyra a few seconds to hug you back.

“Of course. I look forward to having you by my side. I will not have to field the questions of the ladies by my lonesome,” she grinned at you as she pulled back, and you laughed.

“I cannot wait to be pestered with questions.”

“Oh, dear sister,” Rhaenyra sighed with an air of knowing, tucking a strand of your silver hair behind your ear. “You will regret saying that.”

—

After Rhaenyra had shared the news with you, you had been the happiest you had ever been. The servants who tended to you noticed– and they were glad to see such an upbeat mood from you.

The maesters had quickly cleared you for travel, much to your delight. They would come along for the journey at the King’s request, but you did not mind. At least you were being allowed to leave.

Like Rhaenyra said, the keep was quite mad with preparation, especially so close to the date of departure. Numerous servants entered and exited your quarters throughout the days, showing you dresses and packing needed belongings into chests to bring along. You quite liked all the attention. It was a nice change of pace.

When the day came to leave, you were practically bouncing in your bed. Servants came in to help you from your bed, dressing you in a pretty but simple leather dress with black embroidery. You were beaming the entire time.

Rhaenyra came in shortly after, wearing an almost exact copy of your own attire. The embroidery of her ensemble was red, however. She smiled at you, taking you in.

“You look amazing. How are you feeling?” She asked, coming to your side to help you walk.

“I’m fine,” you waved her hand away as you moved for the door. You wobbled slightly, but stayed afoot. Rhaenyra watched you silently before joining you once more, giving you your independence, but ready to help should you need it.

The pair of you made your way slowly out of your room and down the corridor, towards the direction of the courtyard. You passed numerous servants and guards who looked surprised to see you out and about, and you gave each and every one of them a small nod.

When you reached the courtyard, more stares found you. You ignored them as you made your way towards the coach, Rhaenyra following close behind.

“Do you need help to get up?” Your sister asked. You shook your head as you began to climb the steps to the coach. You made it up with only a small wobble, ducking inside to take a seat on one of the cushioned benches. Rhaenyra entered behind you, taking the seat next to you. She smiled widely.

“I’m so glad you’re coming with us. This is going to be more bearable now.” She told you, to which you laughed.

“That’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while,” Viserys’ voice chimed as he ducked inside the coach to join you. Alicent followed behind, Aegon babbling in her arms.

You smiled at your father, grateful he had said yes. He took a seat across from you and Rhaenyra, joy obvious in his expression as he gazed upon his two daughters.

“You two look lovely. It’s good to see you together, smiling.”

“All because of your generosity, dear husband,” Alicent chimed in, settling in beside Viserys.

“I would not say that–” he began, but you swiftly interrupted.

“Yes, thank you father. I appreciate your decision.”

He looked from Alicent to you, nodding his head. “Of course.”

The coach fell silent save for little Aegon’s babbling, and although it was slightly awkward, you would not have traded the moment for the world.

Moments later, the coach began its journey, and you could barely contain your excitement. Viserys and Alicent were speaking about something, but you paid them no mind as you glued your eyes to the small window in the side of the coach.

As Rhaenyra had said weeks ago, the journey was a bit bumpy. You could feel your family watching you intently throughout the ride, but you paid them no mind. You were fine, and even if you weren’t, there was nothing that was going to stop you from going through with this.

When you finally made it to the campsite, you were ecstatic. You could hear all the clamor outside, and it excited you. Rhaenyra looked at you with an amused expression, teasing you, but you ignored her.

The coach rolled to a stop and you sprang from your seat.

“Just wait, dear sister,” she spoke into your ear as she moved to stand beside you. “Father and the Queen will go first. Then you and I.”

You nodded, wishing Viserys and Alicent would put some more haste into their movements. The door to the coach swung open as a servant laid a step stool before it. Viserys gave you a smile as he passed, working his way to the ground with a small huff. Alicent followed, Aegon in her grasp. She was much more graceful.

Rhaenyra moved next, glancing at you from over her shoulder. “Ready?”

You nodded, and she turned her back to you as she hopped down from the coach. You stepped out after her, and it was like the entire camp stopped.

Eyes were all on you stepped onto the grass. Rhaenyra stood beside you, one of her hands grabbing yours protectively.

“Alright?” She asked you quietly, and you nodded.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking everything in. People slowly started to resume their tasks as the shock of seeing you wore off. Perhaps the news of your incoming presence had not been widely known.

Rhaenyra tugged lightly at your hand as she made to move, and you raised a foot to follow her, but then your eyes met his.

A man, across the field, was staring at you. Not hungrily. Not in disgust. In something you couldn’t quite place.

He was tall with a large build and a dazzling smile. He was smiling at you, you realized. You looked him up and down, noting his curly hair; his unshaven face; his attire. A house sigil you suddenly could not recall adorned his tunic.

“Rhaenyra,” you called to her, not taking your eyes from the man. “Who is that?”

Rhaenyra turned to follow your gaze, lips breaking into a wide grin as she saw the man you were fascinated with.

“Ser Harwin Strong, of House Strong. I am surprised you did not recognize the sigil, sister.” She was teasing you, you realized.

“No, I did. I just…” you trailed off, still looking in his direction. He nodded to you from, and you felt your cheeks heat as you finally ripped your gaze from his.

“Should I expect to be attending your wedding at the end of this hunt?” Rhaenyra continued and you rolled your eyes before moving in the direction your father and Alicent had gone.

“Nonsense. I do not even know him.” You told her as she fell into step beside you.

“But you would like to, would you not?” Your sister poked your side lightly. You swatted her hand away with no force.

You said nothing more, and Rhaenyra took your silence as an end to the conversation.

—

Rhaenyra had been right.

The ladies of the court were boring.

You were situated in a plush chair (brought specially for you) beside Rhaenyra as the pair of you listened to gossip and subtle criticisms.

You had thought the ladies would jump at the chance to pester you with questions, but it was almost as if you weren’t even there. They paid you little mind, opting to pester Rhaenyra instead. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that if they even acknowledged you, you would break.

“Ladies,” a man spoke up as he moved to join the group. You looked up to see another member of house Strong, judging by the sigil on his tunic. Not Harwin– perhaps a cousin? A brother? Judging by the image of Harwin still plastered in your mind, they looked similar. They had to be related.

“Mind if I join?” He asked, soft spoken. The ladies nodded, going back to their gossips as the man made his way to an empty chair.

“Larys Strong,” Rhaenyra leaned over to whisper in your ear as if reading your mind. “Harwin’s brother.”

You looked at the man curiously, now obviously seeing the resemblance. Larys met your gaze with a small smile.

“You must be the other Princess. It is nice to make your acquaintance. I certainly see the resemblance.” He gestured between you and Rhaenyra.

The ladies had stopped talking now, opting to listen to you and Larys.

You gave a kind, small laugh. “Of course. It’s a pleasure, Lord Strong.”

“Oh, I am not a lord, Princess. That title is my father’s.”

You nodded. “My apologies.”

“None needed,” he replied, eyes watching you intently. “It is quite a surprise to see you here. Many were starting to believe you were a myth.”

You cocked an eyebrow is surprise. Rhaenyra’s hand fell atop one of yours. “Is that so?” You questioned. Larys nodded.

“Yes, Princess. There were many whispers that you had died and the King would not admit it. Whispers that you were part dragon, and that is why you were not allowed out of the keep.”

“That’s enough of that,” Rhaenyra spoke, her tone firm. “We need not speak of whispers and stories. My sister is alive and well, right next to me.”

“Of course, Princess,” Larys nodded. He was still looking at you. “You and I are more alike than one would think, Princess. Both younger siblings. Both hidden away. Both a source of shame–”

“I think I should like to get some air,” you announced, standing from your chair. Rhaenyra rose to your side without a word, but you shook your head.

“Alone, please,” you whispered to her, and she reluctantly nodded as she lowered herself back into her chair.

All eyes watched you as you made your way out of the tent, into the darkening sky. The lowering sun cast a beautiful variety of colors over the horizon. Pinks and oranges and yellows you swore you had never seen before. You tilted your head back, staring up at the sky and inhaling deeply.

You did not know why Larys’ words had bothered you so much. You knew you weren’t purposefully hidden away, that you weren’t a source of shame for your family– or were you?

The House of the Dragon needed to present a strong front. A sick, weak Princess did not exactly aid in that image.

You closed your eyes, exhaustion from the day creeping into your limbs. You fought to keep it at bay. Should you show even the smallest hint of fatigue, your father would whisk you back to the keep and never set you free again.

“Princess?”

A man’s voice, deep and warm and concerned. You opened your eyes, lowering your gaze from the sky. Harwin Strong was approaching you, brows scrunched together in worry.

“Are you alright?” He questioned and you nodded.

“Of course. Just getting some air.” You watched him as he came to a stop in front of you. He was handsomer up close, you thought. Deep brown eyes and messy hair.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Lord…?” You trailed off, knowing full well who he was thanks to Rhaenyra’s earlier words.

“Ser Harwin Strong, Princess.” He told you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Ser Harwin, of course,” you nodded. “I just met your brother. Interesting, to say the least.”

Harwin sighed. “Apologies for him, Princess. He has… a certain way with words.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “He certainly does. Tell me, Ser. Did you believe me to be part dragon before today?”

Harwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Of course not, Princess.”

“And did you think I was dead, and my family was lying about health?”

“No, Princess.” He confirmed, and you nodded.

“Even if you did, I doubt you would say so.” You gave a humorless laugh, but he shook his head.

“I would tell you the truth, Princess.”

“Even if it meant you’d hang?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Why?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his tongue flitting out to wet his lips as he pondered his words.

“Because you deserve the truth.”

You went quiet for a moment, averting your eyes back to the beautiful sky. Harwin’s gaze remained on you.

“Even if you were part dragon,” he spoke. “You would still be the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

You looked back at him, a blush painting your cheeks pink as you searched for a hint of a lie in his expression. You found none.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Rhaenyra speaks of you, you know. To anyone who will listen. She’s told me of you more than once.”

“When do you speak to Rhaenyra?” You asked in surprise.

“It makes sense she would not tell you of such trivial matters,” he said. “I guard her from time to time.”

You nodded. That made sense. You knew you were guarded at all times, even if you rarely left your chambers. Of course Rhaenyra would be, too. Probably more so than you.

“Good things, I hope?” You asked, and Harwin grinned.

“Of course, Princess.”

“Good,” you smiled. “If she ever speaks bad about me, you tell me about it.”

He laughed at that, and you closed your eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit you once more.

“Princess?” Harwin’s voice was full of concern again as he reached a hand out to lightly touch your arm. “Are you alright?”

“Tired, Ser.” You inhaled deeply, trying to overcome the small feeling of nausea rising in your stomach.

“Should I fetch a maester?” Harwin asked, but you shook your head. You opened your eyes, reaching for his forearm as you slumped slightly. He supported you weight immediately, an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright.

“I don’t need a maester. If you would just help me to my tent, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Princess. Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk,” you assured him. He nodded without question as the pair of you started in the direction of your tent.

“Thank you for this, Ser Harwin.”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You walked the rest of the way in silence, thankful for the darkness filling the camp to make your walk less obvious.

When you reached your tent, Harwin helped you inside and to the comfortable cot. He placed you gently onto it, taking a step back as he waited to see if you needed anything else.

“I believe I can take it from here, Ser. Once again, I thank you for this.” You looked at him, your expression sincere.

“No thanks needed, Princess. Whatever you need, I am here.”

You have a small nod as silence fell between the pair of you. After a moment, you spoke again.

“If you don’t mind Ser… please keep this between us. My father would–”

“No worries, Princess. I will take this to the grave if I must.” He gave you a dazzling grin, and it almost pained you to send him away.

He bid you goodnight before slipping out of the tent, and you watched him go, hoping you would see him again soon.

[annzhao]

Dear Wendy, my debut young adult novel about two aromantic asexual college students giving love advice to their peers, releases on April 16, 2024!

Preorder: bit.ly/dearwendy

Preorder campaign (for the two art prints designed by maiahee_): bit.ly/dearwendypreorder

Events (including virtual and in-person): annzhao.com/events

Full description below the cut!

Dear Wendy's Sophie and Jo, two aromantic and asexual college students, engage in an online feud while unknowingly becoming friends in real life, in this dual POV Young Adult contemporary debut from Ann Zhao

Sophie Chi is in her first year of college (though her parents wish she'd attend a “real” university rather than a liberal arts school) and has long accepted her aroace (aromantic and asexual) identity. She knows she’ll never fall in love, but she enjoys running an Instagram account that offers relationship advice to students at her school. No one except her roommate can know that she’s behind the incredibly popular “Dear Wendy” account.

When Joanna “Jo” Ephron (also a first-year aroace college student) created their “Sincerely Wanda” account, it wasn’t at all meant to take off or be taken seriously—not like Wendy’s. But now they might have a rivalry of sorts with Wendy’s account? Oops. As if Jo’s not busy enough having existential crises over gender identity, whether she’ll ever truly be loved, and the possibility of her few friends finding The One then forgetting her!

While tensions are rising online, Sophie and Jo grow closer in real life, especially once they realize their shared aroace identity and start a campus organization for other a-spec students. Will their friendship survive if they learn just who’s behind the Wendy and Wanda accounts?

Exploring a-spec identities, college life, and more, while perfect for fans of Alice Oseman’s Loveless, this is ultimately a love story about two people who are not—and will not—be in love!

[friendly-stardust]

If you had the chance to change something about the dance of the dragons (TV show or book), what would it be? For example, how a character dies, which team a house is on,or an entire character personally. How would you change it to make the story better, in your opinion?♥️🖤💙💚

Thanks for the ask anon and sorry that it took me this long to reply. This is a tricky one and this can be long.

House of the Dragon is a complete mess and a mediocrity of a show on every level, except for the acting. The writing is at an abysmal level, and I am convinced that it only got the interest and the rating it got thanks to the fact that it is under GoT's umbrella. And the fact that the showrunners/writers decided to be ungrateful and to insult the very show thanks to which their shitty fanfiction is even relevant, tells me everything I need to know about the arrogance and the ignorance existing behind this travesty of a show. The showrunners/writers seem to have completely misunderstood the themes of The Dance dealing mainly with class stratification, the corruptible nature of power, the consequences of blind ambition, and the pitfalls of unchecked privilege, reducing it all to a dumbed-down and pandering fanfiction in which tokenism, outdated and bigoted caricatures, and banal depiction of sexual assault are used casually as tropes, while pretending to write a 'feminist' or a 'progressive’ show. So, for House of the Dragon, EVERYTHING is to be changed.

Rhaenyra should have never been written as the main protagonist: From Episode one, we already have a failure in our hand with the writing as the showrunners decided to solely use Rhaenyra as our main protagonist in a show that is supposed to depict a severe and ineluctable succession crisis at the top of the Kingdom, resulting in the splintering and in the factionalism of the ruling family. Because, at the heart of this story, this IS the main thematic of the Dance - the civil war that will be tearing the ruling family at the head of the Realm apart and, consequently, the Realm itself apart (except for Dorne which was not yet part of the Seven Kingdom). We should have had different POVs to illustrate the deep divide that have been festering within the Targaryen clan itself and POVs from some of the closest families around them helping them rule. So, if it was me writing this, the POVs would have been: • Alicent - for the Hightowers POV, to see things through her lends and because of the important role she will have as a Queen in the future and as the head of one of the factions. • Rhaenyra - She will be the heir, one of the main claimants to the throne, and the head of the other main faction. • Daemon - self-explanatory. Playing his own partition/having his own ambition and need to be in power. • Corlys - to have a POV for the Velaryons and to highlight their side of the story and their narrative as a clan close to power. I would have made the Velaryons more politically savvy and Corlys primarily working with the sole perspective of preserving and consolidating the Velaryons' place of power/closeness to the Throne. As a whole, the Velaryons and Corlys' allegiance will clearly and only be for the Velaryon's name and clan. I would also use that POV to illustrate the Velaryons tinge of resentment towards Viserys and towards the dismissive way House Targaryen have treated them since Aemon's death. • Criston - POV of a lower-class man of Dornish descent getting into the heart of power and having to navigates its difficulties with his set of believes and morals, and how being in the middle of all this impacts his decisions and his ambition for the ascension of House Cole to a more prominent social status.

Using Season 1 as a set-up Season and not rush with catastrophic and mismanaged times skips: Season one should have really been a set-up season, taking the time to really put the foundations into place, while having enough belief in the story to give it the time needed to develop naturally. I believe that it is important to pose the base that the fracture in the clan Targaryen and with the Velaryons have been created since Aemon Targaryen's death which, according to me, is truly the start of this whole succession crisis. The Dance is just the poorly managed resultant of the whole process, seeping through several generations of resentment and hatred for one another. This will also completely negate all the stupid arguments I have seen online of 'if Viserys had married Laena, all this will not have happened'. This is because the show writers have failed the only-show fans who have no clues that the Velaryons have already threatened war during the whole Rhaenys vs Viserys ordeal. It would also emphasise the reason why it was important for Viserys to not shun the Velaryons and to keep a close alliance with them and would explain the reason why Vaemond became that adamant and not too keen on letting Rhaenyra's bastard usurp their ancestral throne. If only the Velaryons were taken seriously by the writers and not solely used as tokens and brownie points to prop-up Saint Rhaenyra?

Being aware of tokenism, bigotry and of anachronistic representations: This show seems to have been written by people who appear completely oblivious to how careful they should have been with how to manage negative stereotypes.

Avoiding Tokenism: From a standpoint of a Black woman like myself, the way the Velaryons were written was quite insulting. The showrunners/writers seem completely oblivious to how bad it looked to have the only House cast as Black being completely subservient, usurped and abused by their white-coded Targaryen counterparts, with no protest from most of them. The only one of them who protested – Vaemond - was villainised by the narrative and was made to say a misogynistic slur to justify his murder in open court. Murder which has no further consequence in the narrative. These showrunners/writers seem to not understand the racial implications that this casting choice creates in this world and seem completely ignorant to how to organically integrate that change into the narration and how to prevent stereotyping those race-swapped characters, so to not reduce the Velaryons to mere tokens. As a result, the writing made the Velaryons act like complete idiots devoid of any sense of pragmatism, strategic mindset, or political intellect, in a world that literally demands those characteristics of the people playing the game of throne. And the way Rhaenyra’s relationship to them was written also reeks of racist undertones. Overall, the way the Velaryons were written just demonstrates the ignorance and the shallowness we have behind this show and highlights the fact that the race-swapping was only made for aesthetic purposes and for some veneer of visual racial diversity.

And the best example to illustrate that vile treatments of the Velaryons is the way Laena and her daughters were written - not that Laenor or Corlys or Vaemond were spared either - but the treatment inflicted onto those female characters, now made WoC, represent better the showrunners/writer’s deep misogynoir, to which I am sure, they are completely oblivious. Laena's role and arc in the source material was completely butchered and diminished, by rewriting and reducing a feminine, beloved and desired (in her marriage to Daemon) woman - seduced and brazenly wanted by Daemon as his wife in F&B - into some teenager seducing the grown man Daemon, all while he only had eyes for the White girl Rhaenyra, actively feeding into the stereotypes about girls of colour growing up faster, having to be needy and desperate for men attention, and having to seek out male attention to be noticed. I mean, as if Laena was not beautiful enough for a man to notice her without her having to throw herself at him? But it doesn't stop there. They managed to erase her relationship with Rhaenyra, reducing it all to some repulsive scenario of pitting two women against each other for a man, the complete opposite of what happened in the source material, in addition of making Laena the ‘other woman’, the lesser desired one, and the unwanted wife, in her relationship with Daemon. And let not forget the trauma-porn inflicted on her WoC body in that violent and traumatic death, which is a complete bastardisation of an invented only-show concept of “a woman dying a dragon rider death” - whatever that means. Apparently, once Laena became mixed-race in the show, she became some thirsty, miserable, completely isolated woman, willing to go along with only being good enough as a second choice to her white husband, and dies violently by suicide instead of the beloved and cherished woman full of strength and humanity we have in her white woman depiction from F&B. The same abhorrent treatment was inflicted onto Baela and Rhaena, both written as some wallpapers and empty headed mute dolls with no layered personalities and no real wants of their owns, just willing to go along with anything, even to their own detriment (this includes Rhaenyra’s bastards sons taking precedent over them for Driftmark), as long as it favors and bolsters the causes and the ambition of Rhaenyra - the woman their father married just few weeks after their mother's funeral.

Avoiding Bigoted depictions:

a) Some of the tokenism arguments can also be applied to the showrunners/writers’ decision to depict Ser Criston Cole as a brown man of Dornish descent, which already comes with its own in-world racial undertones, while being very hell-bent on portraying his character as an emotional, thuggish, and resentment-driven character, who got his positions as hand-me-downs from two white women, instead of the intelligent, calculated man, always in control of his emotions, and above all, driven by ambition, and who got to the highest position of knighthood in Westeros by the merits of his own competence, as he was described as in his White-coded version in F&B. This illustrates once more the showrunners/writers’ incapability of understanding the tokenistic nature of their racial representation. Also, maybe unaware, and oblivious to their own bigotry on display in what they were implying here, the showrunners/writers went with the problematic trope of the savage, misogynist, and violent brown man for this character. And the fact that they decided to deliberately frame this brown man as some misogynist and vindictive man, unreasonable and unjustified in his anger towards his sexual predator when he is the victim of sexual assault in that “Rhaenyra’s sexual empowerment” episode, just disgusts me. As if his feelings and the shame he felt from the whole ordeal the next day, as a person, was to be dismissed or worst, mocked. The optics of the showrunners narratively dismissing his trauma while they have decided to change his race in the show, just highlights once more the racist undertone we have in the writing of some of the characters in this show. It also illustrates how out of touch the people behind this show are when it comes to representing power and racial dynamisms in a sensible way.

b) Larys Strong is the first disabled character we see on screen with his clubfoot and someone in the writing room though that it was a great idea to then transform him into some deviant sexual predator who gets off by fetishizing FEET. You cannot make this up! The showrunners/writers also butchered his character by making him the confirmed and sole murderer of his father and brother, when in the books, 3 other characters, Corlys, Viserys and Daemon, were also plausible culprits for that crime - but they are all Team Black so better whitewash them all and put it all on the disabled and only Team Green character that was also under suspicions for this murder. And all to see Alicent’s feet, ladies, and gentlemen! Instead of the enigmatic, calculated, and ambitious character we have depicted in F&B, the showrunners/writers made Larys Strong into some outdated caricature and despicable representation of a disabled character, embodiment of all of the devious and negative traits, by equating being disabled with being devious in morality and mentally. It is just a vile way to represent disabled characters, quite akin to the way they were viewed in medieval times as bearer of bad intentions/evilness, which also confirms the ableism and the hollow activism we have behind the scenes of this show.

Avoiding anachronistic representations:

a) Equating Alicent to a 'Woman for Trump' - a misogynist and reductive slur used within a very 21st century USA political discourse - while portraying a woman supposed to be within a setting mirroring medieval Europe, just shows the lack of culture, and of historical knowledge we have in this writers’ room.

b) Anachronistic girl boss characterisation: Rhaenys is written as a vessel to peddle nonsensical 21st century notions of White feminism, a hollow wannabe and anachronistic girl boss, spouting anachronistic speeches, while the show completely removed any agencies from most female characters, and took strong female characters from the original story and turned them into some victims of situations, none of their own doing of course, who constantly cry and are afraid of making any decisions, all while most of their negative traits are given to the male characters, absolute monsters and responsible for all woes that afflict the female characters. Also, Rhaenyra is whitewashed into some girl boss and some absurd notion of a ‘modern politician’ - modern in which historical period, no one knows – who spouts drivels like ‘when I am queen, I will make a new order’, to brazenly pander to Daenerys’ fanbase, when both women are nothing alike, except for the fact that both are Targaryen women.

4. Follow the source material and not thematically rewrite the Dance:

No Aegon I prophecy or dream. Maintain the Targaryens as the ruthless colonialists they are instead of trying to justify their reason to brutally colonise a whole continent. As a person from the African continent, this is not the kind of rhetoric I would like to see peddle, justifying colonisation in the name of some superior purpose.

No white stag apparition coming to anoint our Saint Disneyesque Girlboss Rhaenyra to rule. This is insulting to the intellect of people who want to see complex storytelling.

Completely rewrite the dreadful Episode 9 and make it as close as possible to the book’s depiction of the Green Council.

No Girlboss moment for Rhaenys, murdering hundreds of peasants and ruining Aegon’s coronation.

Erasing that bullshit about Alicent confusing Viserys last words and make the Green reason to crown Aegon and Helaena based on tradition and precedents, as in F&B, and not based on some feeble concept such as the King’s word. We are not in an Absolute Monarchy here, but the uncultured idiots we have behind this show don’t even know the difference.

Not erasing fat women representation with Rhaenyra and Helaena when you claim to be such ‘feminist’ and ‘inclusive’ show. Where is the inclusion of different female body shapes? Or are they not worthy of representation? Instead, we have one of your showrunners (the incompetent Sara Hess) using fatphobic language to make it seem like it is weird for a woman’s body to evolve after several pregnancies.

Showing women on the Green side (Alicent or Helaena) going through their pregnancies and giving birth.

Not erasing Helaena in her own coronation.

Not infantilising Helaena and making her a side character in some other characters story (Aegon, Jace).

Showing the Green kids with their dragons in Season 1. As it was portrayed in HotD, most casual viewers don’t realise that in real Targaryen fashion, those kids should have their dragons around them in most official displays (side eyeing the whole dragon pit debacle here).

Where is Sunfyre and a clear view of Dreamfyre?

Making Vhagar roar when Aemond eye was slashed.

Making one of the adult correct Baela’s and Rhaena’s wrong assumption that Aemond stole Vhagar. Why did the incompetent showrunners/writers even insinuate that foolishness in the first place without having one of the adults rectify the Dragon lore? We all know that it was to paint Aemond as the villain in this situation.

Making it more evident that Rhaenyra meant torture when she said, ‘sharply questioned’.

Why was Daeron and Maelor absent?

Not making the Dragon/owner bond murkier with that shitty and useless singing session from Daemon in Episode 10, when it is canon that one rider cannot have 2 dragons at the same time to ride. Surely Daemon, as verse into Valyrian lore as they proclaim him to be, should be aware of that. This is just confusing the casual viewers.

Using Mushroom's accounts for both the Greens and the Blacks – if I am using them at all.

Not erasing Mysaria’s miscarriage as it is part of her characterisation.

Not claiming to wanting to make a 50/50 adaptation when BTS the showrunner Ryan Condal is using gobbledygook such as ‘they made Aegon usurps his sister Rhaenyra’s throne’, when, by all Westerosi tradition and precedents, Aegon could not usurp what is already lawfully his as the first-born son of the King.

For the book version of the Dance, I don’t have much to change to be honest:

I would have significantly toned down the Daemon’s fest.

I would have made the Velaryon more neutral or playing both sides, with a strategic splitting of the House to support both sides.

I would have made some of the Houses change team, like for example, making the Royces in the Vale side with the Greens, splitting the allegiances in the Vale, to better illustrate how profoundly divided the whole Realm becomes with the war of succession.

The Redwynes (which I would have made the maternal side of Alicent) and most of the Reach would have sided with the Greens.

I would have betrothed Daeron to one of the other powerful Houses in the Reach.

No Wolf Hour.

No army pulled out of nowhere in the Riverlands after Aemond reduces them to crisp. Instead, some part of the Vale army would make the bulk of it.

Finally, no Jaehaera death. That was just petty and quite stupid writing from GRRM with no logical justification as to why she needed to die. No need for the “most sexy 6 years old” to ever exist in the story.

Jaehaera and Aegon III will have their children, who mostly have no real impact on the Targaryen line anyways, apart from Daena the Defiant who gave birth to House Blackfyre.

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 6 of Kinktober: Having an Affair with Jack Chambers

pairing: jack chambers x fem!reader

warning: eating out, riding, protected sex.

Y/N’s POV

I moved into Victory a year ago and I’ve been having an affair with Jack Chambers. We go somewhere private secretly so no one can’t see us.

One night, his wife Alice, went out for a girls night but I didn’t want to go so I lied about me being sick, meaning, fucking around with Jack. When the coast was clear, I went to the house and Jack immediately let me in the house.

“I’ve waited so long for this Y/N/N.” Jack says pulling me into him.

“What’re waiting for Jack, I’m here, take me somewhere that you make me beg for you.” I say making his face be close to mine.

Jack takes me to a counter and makes my dress go up so he can see my new lingerie I bought. The way his smirk grows, I’m so ready for him to fuck me up. He makes me take off some of the lingerie off and eats me out while I’m still sitting on the counter, I tug on his hair and gasp while I lean my head back. I position my right heel on his left shoulder blade which made him hold my right leg in place so I couldn’t move it at all.

“Fuck!” I scream.

He’s so good at this it makes me think that my husband is lousy in bed.

Jack stops eating me out and I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, he takes me to his bedroom, He lays me down and takes his clothes off which made me want him even more. When he got fully naked, I made him get down to my level and he wraps his arms around my body and takes me to the end of the bed. He gets a condom from his nightstand and put it on his cock. He fucks me, I scratch his back each time he went harder into me. I take control a bit, I flip us over to make me on top of him.

I feel my strap falling off, Jack unzips my lingerie and I take it off. I can tell he wants me, I position myself to ride him. I took him so well, Jack leans up to face me and we kiss, I moan into the kiss.

“Ja- Fuck.” I moan while he gives me love bites on my neck.

“You’re so much better than my wife.” He moans continues giving me love bites.

“Why you say that?” I stop him giving me bites.

“She’s been acting crazy lately, I think you already know.” He looks at me.

“Yeah, she has been crazy, that dinner the other night, her crazy idea about Victory and you looking at her when Frank talked about her at his house.” I said.

“I know that she would lie, you don’t lie at all.” Jack touches my cheek.

“I mean the food was good.” I chuckle.

“I think your food is better.” He says.

“Jack!” I chuckle.

“It’s the truth.” He makes us do nose to nose.

We continue kissing and fucking each other, Alice catches us.

“Jack!?” Alice in a scared way.

Jack and I look at Alice, I get embarrassed, I hide my naked body and I look at Jack who has a kinda of an embarrassed face.

“How long has this been going on?” Alice questions.

“A several months.” Jack says.

Alice’s face looks mortified and she walks out of the room.

Ever since that day I’ve been at home not going to any parties or clubs with Jack and he’s friends. I’m so embarrassed, I wish that I never came here or met Jack. Thank god we stayed protected. I hate myself. Fuck Victory!