#yes sun has an eyepatch

[inazumaneko]

Lookin’ snazzy boys!

[yuugen-benni]

Unintentionally but Intentional

Things, moments or scenes Unintentionally but Intentional attractive with your boys <3 A/N: I might consider this a Modern AU!, but it doesn't affect much so just read it the way you think is good for you!

Ever since Al Haitham was a young student, he has done the same thing: sharing the headset with you. When you two were young and he noticed how bored or down you were, he would tuck your hair behind the ear and put his headphones on you, making sure your hair wasn't messed and played a song he secretly knew you would like.

Tighnari's love for nature is obvious to everyone, but not everyone knows how attractive he looks when he takes off his gardening gloves. It's not every day you get to see a scene like this. His hands with beautiful bulging veins being revealed under that thick and rough glove; The way he stretched his arms, intertwining his fingers and cracking them together, relaxing his body after hours of nurturing his plants with the warmth of the sun kissing his skin. Simple and Gorgeous.

The way Kaeya was handsome without his eyepatch was totally unintentional. There was always something covering his right eye, whether it was his bangs or his eye patch, even with you - his lover. But you could see that it wasn't with the same concern. Sometimes he would blurt it out, showing the scar that ran diagonally down and that eye that was seen as lost, dull, but that remained mesmerizing.

Albedo refuses to cut his angel-like hair and not even God knows why. His bangs always obstruct his vision and the solution found was to use Klee's hair clips. Yes, those cute hair clips decorated with strawberries and bunnies. You couldn't help but be distracted by them whenever he is casually in your front. The gentle click of the clips being secured in his hair became a familiar sound, a playful ritual that added a touch of whimsy to his otherwise serious demeanor.

Freminet doesn't like to admit he's a professional swimmer. As a very shy person, he gets embarrassed if the full attention is turned to him. But you can't help it; your eyes uncounciosly are locked on him everytime he get out of the pool: his hands resting on the edge of the pool, his muscles of his slim arms flex lifting his body up while the water run down synchronized with his movements.

The way Neuvillette carries himself may exude authority to some, stoicism to others. In short, there are many people who fear him just by looking at him, but your case is different: The main source of your admiration for your boyfriend is precisely his serious but calm facade. It's impressive how his presence is something else in the room, how he always has a good posture, good words but such a soft heart.

When Kazuha makes promises, he always keeps them faithfully. I think that's what's so endearing about him: his quiet confidence. Kazuha will look into your eyes, close his fist and bring it towards his chest, right in his heart and promise the most impossible thing without any fear.

Thoma's simplicity touches the heart. You regularly see him smile at things that in everyday life almost no one notices. Maybe it's our busy minds or maybe it's Thoma's curiosity about the territory he now lives in. His simplicity is also conveyed by his gestures, especially those of affection, where he is direct, loving and conveys his great messages in the smallest of ways: a note, a kiss on the cheek and even with a look.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Form of Affection

22/12: Swimming & Face Fucking - Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: face fucking (obvi), dark!ish Aemond, kinslaying (mood), dirty talk, praise, degradation, threatening/obsessive behaviour A/N: This takes place in the Form of Gratitude universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

He'd given up hunting, but it still didn't stop him from visiting her.

She no longer raised her bow and arrow when she heard footsteps on her cobbled path. Similarly, Aemond had abandoned transport by way of the horse, instead alerting her to his arrival by the dense flapping of Vhagar’s wings.

Now, when she hears it, she waits outside her front door, arms crossed, smirking that he'd come to see her so soon after their last little tryst.

When he wasn’t buried between her thighs, sometimes Aemond craved her company in other ways. By way of hunting with her (hunting her sometimes), exploring the Kingswood until the sun touched the hills and more often, shedding their clothes and going for a swim in the nearby freshwater lake, made warm by the pleasant weather.

Usually, they swim, cleanse, kiss, and he wraps his strong arm around her and sheathes himself inside her, having his fill and only stopping once he was sated. 

She was good to him. Submitted to his desires when he wanted. Comforted him when he needed. And did not question.

Today was different. 

Today there was a weight on his shoulders like no other.

He’d woken a different person. A kinslayer.

Aemond sighs as he feels her breasts at his back, her slender arms wrapping around him to drift her soft fingertips across his scarred chest. But he does not lift his gaze. The moon shone down on them, reflected off the sapphire of his missing eye now that his eyepatch was discarded with his clothes.

“You are more melancholic than usual”, she muses, her nose gliding up the skin of his neck.

He scoffed, “And I am usually melancholic? Such emotions are beneath that of a Prince”.

He felt her body tense at his back, and he didn't need to look to know he'd offended her, but did not possess the courage to apologise.

“You are cruel when you're like this. It is how I know”, she adds with a soft sigh, making him feel worse, “there is something you are not telling me”.

Even the memory haunts him. He can still hear it, the way Vhagar’s jaw ripped through skin and bone like a knife through paper. 

Nevermind having to admit out loud, the horrific act he'd committed. The one that had his mother flinching from his sights.

“I am a kinslayer”, he states simply, “My nephew, Luke.”

She is quiet. 

And the silence spreads like a virus.

He expects her to drift away from him, taking her warmth with her, too shocked to really say anything, and leave, never to be seen again. Never to know her sweet loving embrace.

But she stays, and if anything, tightens her hold around him, her warm breath on his jaw, batting against the water droplet that sinks across his skin.

“And how do you feel?”

He's perplexed at just how calm she is. Whether it's a front or not, she's awfully good at it.

“I feel…unclean”, he answers, voice wavering, “like any person who looks upon me sees nothing but a mere monster”.

“I do not see a monster”.

“That does not matter”.

Again, she knows better than to not take it to heart. She can't disagree, her good opinion of him does not matter.

“He is the one who took your eye”, she muses, turning her face into the crook of his neck, the sloshing of water following her movements, “is he not?”

Aemond's tongue suddenly feels heavy, “Yes.”

“While your other family simply watched, and did nothing to assist?”

He swallows, a mild annoyance simmering, “Yes.”

He heard her breath before she spoke, the nerves making her shaky, “forgive me. I do not see why you should feel remorseful.”

“Because it has started a war.”

“A war that, forgive me, would have occurred regardless. I understand you may feel guilt. In my view it is no use looking back on the past. You can only protect your family now.”

Aemond could only scoff incredulously, “With Aegon as king I have a better chance of my eye growing back.”

“Well then why not you?” she asks, her volume lowering.

He barely turns his head to her, “what?”

The coldness of the early evening nips at his shoulders as she pulls away, the water around her trickling as she moves dreamily to look at him fully. Aemond feels himself half blink as he watches her expression, and the feeling of her fingers against his cheek.

Her beautiful full lips are parted, eyes studying the body she can see that is not submerged.

Her gaze flits back up to him, as her fingers disappear beneath the water, one soft digit trailing down his chest.

“It is you who should be king”

Silence.

The weight of what she'd said, what she'd suggested.

It was treason, and both knew it.

Aemond swallowed, chest feeling tight as a bowstring.

She is not at all perturbed by what she's said, not thinking about the consequences of them. Instead she ponders on.

“I am a commoner, my Prince. I know what he does. Where his interests lie”, she utters, an urgency to her tone. Aemond's stomach muscles tense as her hand passes over it, stepping past the fine hairs at his navel.

“It is you who was born to rule Westeros…”, she whispers, her front pressed near to his, breasts and nipples perk from the chill.

He stares idly at the droplet making its way between her breasts as her hand wraps around his cock, seeing her smirk at the realisation that her words have made him impossibly hard.

“...and you will”.

His jaw tightens, the muscle twitching with barely-contained emotion that was difficult to pin down.

Anger. Lust. Irritation. Desire.

They were all batting around in his head, trying to find where to fit.

He grabs her face, tugging her towards him so harshly she let out a little squeak, her grip on him never faltering, “Treasonous little cunt, aren't you?”

He doesn't know what he expected. For her to be scared perhaps.

But maybe there was a darkness in her that was discovered in him just days before. Lurking. Because she smirked. Giving his length a few calculated pumps.

“I told you before, where my loyalties lie.”

Her voice was like honey. Catching him in its trap. And her movements only intensified it.

“And what if I wed Floris Baratheon? Hm? Where will your loyalties lie then?”

She laughs breathily, “Then you wed Floris Baratheon. But, on your wedding night, I dare say, it is me you will be thinking of as you bury yourself inside that plain-faced idiot, searching for fulfillment you will never have. Not like you do with me.”

“You sound so sure”, he muses threateningly.

“Prove me wrong then.”

He sighs and tips his head back, feeling achingly hard. Her movements are too slow to grant him any kind of meaningful pleasure, but the touch all the same ignites a flame within.

“I can think of a better use for your cunt mouth”

The hand moves from her face to her hair, and he revels in the whine she lets out when he drags her from the depths to the shallow bank of the edge of the great lake. In the moonlight, shrouded in blue, their bodies look ethereal with the light bouncing off their damp skin.

He'd fucking hate that smug little smile on her face as he drags her to her knees in front of him, if he didn't fucking love it so much.

“Open.”

She bit her lip, holding back her smile at how wound tight she'd managed to make him and only wished to take it further by outright denying him, cock hard and weeping before her.

A choked moan left her as warmth bloomed on her cheek hard, Aemond's hand followed and grabbed her jaw meanly, pulling her face up to meet his gaze. His fingers curled into the flesh of her face, parting her lips, all while his other hand held his length by the base littered with silver curls, and pressed the tip to her lips.

Her eyes glimmered with excitement, feeling a throb between her thighs as he slid into her mouth slowly, his cock hot and heavy on her tongue. There was a dull ache on her cheek where he'd struck her, but it was exciting all the same.

Aemond moaned loudly when he felt her gag on him, her throat trying to close around his length and tears collecting around the rim of her beautiful eyes.

“That's it…”, he cooed quietly, pressing all the way into her warm, wet mouth until his hips were pressed to her.

“-you think I should be king, hm? - a king needs his cock warmed -”

He could tell she was trying to say something around his length but couldn't, and he wanted to laugh at her attempt as he thrusted so deeply into her mouth, her throat moved along with it, prodding the back of her throat mercilessly.

The little slut was writhing there, taking his cock into her mouth like a cunt would, pressing her thighs together to alleviate how badly she wanted to be fucked.

“- what's that? - I can't hear you -”, he smirked at her. Her eyes now shut with streams of moisture forming lines down her face.

“-that’s it-” he whispers softly, “-much better with my cock in your mouth-”

Once he begins fucking in earnest, he feels her warm hands on his thighs for balance. His fingers tug at her moist hair for leverage, tugging her back on his length.

His stomach muscles tighten as her cheeks hollow, increasing the friction on him. Every nerve feels alight the more he bottoms out inside her mouth.

“-fuck- it's such a waste, I've been dreaming of that perfect cunt all day -” he breathes heavily, “-be a good girl and take it-”

She makes a sound skin to a whine when she tastes his seed, shooting hot ropes onto her tongue and back of her throat, coating her mouth with it as he continues his ceaseless pace, prolonging his pleasure.

Aemond moans loudly, the sound lost in the dense forest, granting himself a few more shallow thrusts before he stills, emptying himself on her tongue and watching as a line of spend dribbles down the side of her mouth and onto her breasts.

He sighs in contentment. She is being good and hasn't moved an inch.

With a wet smack, he pulls his softening cock from her mouth, smirking at the way he coats her lips as they glisten in the moonlight.

She opens her bleary eyes finally to him, and doesn't even need to be told. She swallows, a sigh following after to prove she has swallowed all of it.

He hums. A thumb reaching for her chin to push the seed that had leaked out back into her mouth. She sucks on the digit hungrily, and he nearly moans out at the feeling of her wet tongue.

He pulls it out and cups her face lovingly, her eyelashes fluttering as she leans into his touch.

“Come back to the Keep with me”, he demands simply, like it is the easiest thing in the world.

“What?” 

“If I'm going to have to wed, bed and breed Floris fucking Baratheon, I'll need you close to me.”

With the heady taste of him on her tongue still, she swallows and considers for a moment. 

“I will not allow the sweetest cunt in the realm to sleep on the outskirts of the fucking Kingswood. You will be mine.”

His words are sweet. 

It would promise safety from vagabonds, rapists and hunters, for certain. And she had to admit, she did miss him whenever he departed on Vhagar, summoned back to the Keep.

So, she smiles at him, leaning forward to press her temple against his body.

“Yes, my King.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[inkeyjay]

iulia post iulia post

Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill i will conquer -

Meet iulia, one of my dnd characters, formerly an Oath of Conquest paladin. Like Leondras, the founding mother of her former order, she decided to break her oath and raise her sword towards the very institution that instructed her.

She's my character in @royalsea-art's grand scheme of things

First image is how she started on the campaign. Recently turned 19, fresh in a different city, trying to be lawful and impose peace (yes, she was a cop, bear with me)

Second image is from the customary masquerade session.

Aaaand then the incident* happened *we got bamboozled (she trusted her order and an old friend against the party's advice and all she got was treason)

I did not choose the song so do not perceive me, Iulia's song is Queen of peace by florence + the machine but they made me use ed sheeran against my will

So! Long story short, she sacrified so the rest of the party could escape, dying in the process. This is the moment when i think she definitely broke her oath and cut ties with her order.

Eeeexcept she did not die, and was saved from the fire and rubble by Nirilde (the eyepatch one) (gay behaviour enemies to lovers shit if you ask me) (i may have some homoerotic swordfighting sketches) a member of the cult the party has been fighting against from the beggining. (the party members still think she died)

She was held hostage for some time but in the end managed to escape and partially recover from her burns. she looks like this right now:

She now marches for The Sun, ready to defend the people she loves from the same people that managed to corrupt Leondras' legacy, the same ones she fought all those years ago.

Sunlight brings warmth, but it can also start a fire.

The night she died, iulia was a spark.

[queers-gambit]

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time part two

[ part one ]

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: your husband finally shows you all of him.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.4k+

warnings: cursing, smut, Aemond has more emotion than he knows what to do with, Ewan Mitchell with horses - yum. small angst, large comfort. more filler, more fluff, more of author avoiding responsibilities!! what is editing? i don't know her!!

"What's this?" Aemond whispered through sleep, cracking his eye open in confusion as you settled on the bed with a large, legged tray decorated with different foods. "What're you up to, pretty girl?"

His voice was still hoarse when he first woke up.

"Another surprise," you beamed at him, the sun streaming in through the open windows.

Aemond sighed through sleep, "How're you awake right now? Last night wasn't enough?"

"I'm a bit excited," you defended softly, "today's pretty special in my opinion."

He chuckled and slowly pulled himself up in bed, eyepatch still in place after passing out in it; hand raising to wipe his eye of sleep. "This is nice, love," he nodded gently as you set the tray to his side, easily returning to him when his arm opened in invitation. "Thank you," he mumbled, kissing your temple.

"Mhm, I promised it was just gonna be us," you smirked at him, letting his lips meet yours slowly. "Happy nameday, love," you whispered against his lips, slowly grinning.

He nodded, "Thank you."

"C'mon, I've got a day planned," you smirked, encouraging the tray forward for you both to pick off of. He chuckled when on the tray, laid one of his first presents.

"What's this?" He perked a brow, pointing to the smaller box.

"Maybe you should open it, find out," you teased softly, biting into a berry. He spared you a small look before sighing and reaching for it, slowly unwrapping the packaging and revealing the velvet box.

"Sweetheart," he warned.

"Just shut up and open it," you laughed, letting both your arms coil around one of his as he slowly opened the box.

"What...?" He breathed.

"It's for protection," you smiled softly. "And strength, whenever you need it. 'S the Warrior, see?" You gently pet the pendent.

"It's beautiful, love," he muttered against the crown of your head, kissing it.

"It's for the times I'm not with you," you explained. "You told me you feel safe with me, yeah?" He nodded silently. "So, the times I'm not with you, let this pendent give you strength. The Warrior's good for that."

He chuckled a breath through his nose. "No, this is perfect, sweet girl. Thank you. This is... Really special," he assured, handing you the box. "Wanna put it on?"

"Yeah?" You shot up in excitement, trying to restrain your joy but look, when you nailed a present, you got something akin to an adrenaline high. "You mean it?"

"Put it on," he chuckled, "and I won't take it off, hmm?"

"Good, good, good," you muttered, taking the golden chain in hand before shuffling to your knees. He sat still to let you clasp the chain, sitting back to admire the pendent. "Oh, yeah, this looks - yeah, this is good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, mimicking you.

"Yes! Really suits you," you smirked, leaning in to peck his lips. "But I know you're feeling flustered, so, I promise... There's still more surprises."

"Y/N," he groaned, "this is enough."

"Hush your mouth and come with me. Get dressed in something loose," you thought for a moment. "And boots - wear boots."

"What're you planning?"

"Play along," you groaned, trying to pull him from the bed. "By the Gods, what're you eating, lad?"

He laughed and easily tugged you back, letting your knees crash to the bed on either side of his hips; making you catch yourself on his shoulders. "In a moment," he preened, licking your bottom lip as his hands easily slid from your thighs up to grip your bottom again, "I need to thank my wife properly."

"No," you giggled, "c'mon, save the thanks and celebration for later."

He sighed at your stubbornness, kissing you once more before giving a hearty pat to your arse, "All right, pretty girl, go on."

With a spring to your step, Aemond watched you flit around the room before getting out of bed, too. You both prepared for your day and you made sure to grab the new pair of gloves Helaena got him. Once in a tunic and pair of breeches, your boots were laced on and hand taken in Aemond's to leave your room.

He didn't know where to go, so, he had to follow you through the Keep. "What're we doing at the stables, love?" He wondered softly, following you closely as he eyed the magnificent beasts around you.

"I heard rumor the Prince used to love horses before he mastered Vhagar," you turned so you walked down the aisle of the stable backwards, hand still held in his.

He chuckled, "Before Vhagar, I only had reason to learn to ride a horse. Since then, I've tried to focus more on my dragon."

You hummed and nodded, "Perhaps because you also don't own your own horse?"

"What do I have need of a horse for?" He chuckled, teasing you.

"To go out on rides with your wife," you teased. "C'mon," you tugged him further, introducing him to the final stall. "Ta-da."

This time, Aemond fully laughed; his cheeks heating up gently, "You really got me a horse?"

"I really did," you beamed. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"You're serious?"

"Why would I jest at a time like this?" You pouted lightly. "Call it spousal bonding."

Aemond let his lips quirk in a smirk, stepping towards you until his hands took hold of your hips and your own latched onto the area above his elbow. "You go above and beyond, sweet girl," he mused.

"You deserve it," you assured softly. "And while I do not get to spoil you usually, I can for today. So, please," you nodded at his new ebony stallion, "go for a ride with me."

"How can I say no?" He smirked, leaning in to peck your lips. "Thank you, my love. I want to say it's too much but you are too stubborn to hear me."

You let your eyes roll, giving him another kiss before pulling back to select your steed for the day. And like that, the morning fell into afternoon in the stable and then the afternoon melted into evening with you both outside the city walls, on horseback.

Aemond seemed different and it was notable enough that you cocked your head as you watched him. At some point, his head tilted back and his eye shut to take a deep breath in; letting you admire him for a long moment before riding forward. The horse you bought him was, indeed, a bit green in his steps but Aemond handled him like a professional - and Gods, was it a sight to witness. You both explored the area beyond your home and as the sun moved into position to sink, you wondered if you should make for the Keep again.

With the promise of returning whenever you liked, since this was his horse now, you both made it back to the stable in time for the sunset. Leaving the stallion and your borrowed gelding in their stalls after cooling them out, you and Aemond made for your rooms with another mischievous grin.

"Let me guess," He sighed, trying not to roll his eye but the attitude was evident, "you've yet another surprise?"

"Of course," you chirped, grinning at him as your hand shot out in offer. "Shall we, my dear husband?" He had to chuckle lightly, slapping his palm into your own almost begrudgingly. "Oh, come now, you can try to cheer up. It was a nice day, wasn't it?"

Aemond sighed gently and tugged you by your hand so you were right under his arm. "Today was kinda perfect, my love. Thank you," he whispered against your forehead before pecking it. "I almost forgot how much I like horses."

"Well, now you own one," you smirked. "I did good, huh?"

Aemond let himself chuckle quietly, "Yeah, pet, you absolutely nailed it. Hmm?"

Under your breath, you hissed, "Yes," much to your husband's amusement.

"And now?" He asked, glancing around the halls you lead him down.

"You're gonna wait in our rooms while I get dinner settled," you smirked up at him gently. "Maybe get a bath, you reek of manure."

You both laughed gently, knowing you were no better; horse hair coating both of your clothing and leaving natural smudges of dirt, grime, and yes, sometimes, manure. It was mostly caked to your boots in an array of mud, hay, and sawdust; so, when you got to your rooms, you were both quick to shed your gear.

"Uh," Aemond eyed you carefully when you dressed.

"What?"

"You're not going in that," he chuckled.

"I was going to put a dressing robe on," you smirked, gently rolling your eyes as you gathered your hair together before twisting and pinning it off your neck.

"Hmm," he considered, letting his eye rake up and down your form. "Maybe pants?"

You chuckled, relenting as you plucked up a pair of simple trousers, "Yes, my sweet. Good?" You checked, easily stepping into the thin material and tying the drawstring.

"With the dressing robe, yes," he mused, truthfully only wanting you bare for him and covered to your neck for everyone else. "You'll join me when you return?"

"Um, ew?" You laughed lightly. "So we might sit in our own filth?"

He shrugged, "What if we cleaned ourselves before we stepped in the tub?"

"Doable but still gross," you teased. "It'll be like human soup of our grime, love."

"Well, if you don't want - "

"Hey, hey," you smiled as you approached him, tying off your robe, "'s your day and if you want to get a bath with me, I would not refuse." You paused, and then relented, "In truth, any other day, I would not refuse - but today's special."

"All right, all right," he smirked, giving your hips a squeeze, "you go, I'll be here."

"Good," you chirped, toes supporting your weight as you pecked his lips swiftly. "I'll be quick!"

Aemond smirked and let his hand swat your bottom (again), chuckling when you offered a half-hearted glare. After stuffing your feet into a pair of slippers, you darted out of the room and rushed for the kitchens. From there, Chef Uller was all too happy to go over a menu with you; assuring it would be delivered to your bed chambers.

Once everything was set in motion, you took a pitcher of wine and two fresh goblets to your room. With the door shut, but not yet locked, you set your items down to pour the wine and then peak into the adjoining room.

It was considerably smaller, but served its purpose of providing privacy in one's most personal, intimate moments. However, it also housed a smaller fireplace that warmed the clawed foot tub resting before it; kettle dangling slightly from it's hanging rack.

Aemond was resting in the tub already, hair, also, pinned back to save it from getting wet. He lazily looked over when you approached and you briefly had to remind yourself not to get angry when you noted he still wore his eyepatch. "Thanks, love," he whispered, accepting the goblet you handed him.

"Mhm," you nodded gently, taking a sip.

"Join me," he requested - or demanded, you're not sure. It didn't matter much because you were eagerly stripping to the side of the tub under his heavy gaze.

Aemond's chest sat through the waterline and silently sipped as his eye watched you, but was taken aback when you asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Probably more than I should, pet," he answered slowly. "Where'd that come from?"

You sighed lightly and in the nude, neared the tub with your own goblet. "Well, you just," you sighed as you sat to the rim of the tub, turning slowly so your legs were submerged first. "You do not let me see you."

He understood your words, telling you quietly, "You saw me at my worst, you should not have to subject yourself to that, again."

Aemond's free hand was offered to you and you accepted it, easing yourself into the still-warmed water. "Well, shouldn't you leave that up to me to decide?" You asked, back leaning against the opposite end; making your legs lay over his to leave your feet at his hips. It left your legs spread to his gaze, water doing nothing to hide the lower half of your body.

His free hand dropped to hold your shin that rested over his thigh, "No, my love, I would not want you to pass judgement."

"So, you do not trust me."

"I do, pet."

"Then why are you afraid to show me?" You asked quietly. "We are already married, Aemond, there is not much you can do to chase me away." Your feet squeezed his hips, pouting lightly, "What if I wanted to see it?"

He sighed, "I do not need to hear my wife's disgust over my apparance."

"Or are you afraid of the praise I will offer?"

It was silent for a few moments as you both took sips of wine, then heard the chamber door open.

"What's that?" He asked in mild alarm.

"Ease yourself, it's only Amira and Chef Uller bringing us dinner," you assured softly. When his questioning gaze turned to you, you smiled softly, "I told you it was just us today."

"So you did," he smirked. "Tell me something." You sighed and nodded, tipping the goblet to your lips as your free hand laid over the lip of the tub. Aemond's hand rose from the water to gently lace your fingers together, the last of the steam wafting from the water's surface. "Did you get me those books or did my brother, truly?"

You paused, feeling yourself flare in a flush of internal embarrassment; blinking a few times as you sighed. "Well, he is... Busy, love. He could not find the time, so, while I was out, I made sure to grab something Aegon could give you."

He nodded, "So, they're from you?"

Your eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, and from your dear brother, he only graced you with his decent behavior at dinner."

"Which went more noticed than you think, sweet girl," he smirked, the outer door shutting again - and you knew Amira was the last out of the room to ensure nobody lingered.

"Hmm?"

"Mum noticed," he nodded softly. "I could tell."

"Well - "

"No, truly, love, what is it you have on him?" He asked, leaning over to set his goblet to the stone floor. You deftly handed him your own. "Hmm?" He turned in the water to reach for you, and you did not fight his encouragement to slide on your knees to rest on his lap. "What is it you have on my brother that gets him to act like a regular person?"

You chuckled, damp arms rising to wrap around his neck. "I promise you, I have nothing. Aegon is a special lad," you allotted, "and has to be handled in a special way. I would only like to think I am merely defensive against him."

Aemond nodded softly, "He likes to instigate."

"Mhm," you agreed, letting his lips meet yours. "However, if my dinner gets any colder, I'll be very upset."

"Oh, c'mon, love," he pouted gently. "Just gotta raise your hips for me."

"So you might make another mess?" You teased, kissing him again. "No, love, c'mon. I can wash your hair if you'd like."

"Perhaps in the morning," he promised with a soft smirk. "I might've taken tomorrow off from responsibilities."

"Yeah?" You nodded gently, nose rubbing up his own.

"Mhm. And I allegedly got you released from duties, too."

"What did you do?" You laughed.

"Merely expressed my want to show my wife how appreciative of her I am," he chuckled, letting his tongue boldly stick out to lick flat up your neck. Your breathing stuttered slightly as your hands tightened on his neck as he muttered, "That I desired being alone with her."

"Oh, so, you told everyone we were going to fuck all day," you teased, laughing gently in his ear.

"Mhm," he smirked, pecking your cheek. "Am I wrong?"

"If I'm not fed soon, maybe."

Aemond laughed and agreed, letting you both climb from the tub; sending a wave of water back into it and onto the stone floor as you dried off. You didn't bother dressing, only tied your robe on; Aemond following your lead and tying on a simple pair of thin trousers. After, he sat at the table and you skipped over, showing him the last two books for him to open.

"I knew it," he teased, opening them. "Are you done for the night?"

"Hmm," you thought about it for a moment, "nope, there's one more. But that's for later," you winked, claiming your own seat as he dished you both plates. "You like them?"

He nodded, glancing at the titles. "Have you read them?"

"A few years ago," you nodded, "and thought you'd like them, maybe we could talk about it."

Aemond chuckled, "Yeah, sweetheart."

Dinner passed uneventfully, and by the end, your bare feet were curled in Aemond's lap as he couldn't resist reading the first chapter of one of the books you got him. You listened as he read, smiling when one of his hands held the book and the other caressed the skin of your feet, ankle, and shins. You were both content to banter back and forth regarding whatever he read, and because you've read the book already, you had to advantage to really poke at him.

As the night passed, it was evident the exhaustion of the day set and Aemond was glancing around. When he noted your softened expression, arm propped on the table to keep your head upright, he closed the novel and placed it under his arm. "C'mere," he whispered, using your hands to guide you to your feet and then lead you to bed.

It was easy enough to get in bed and resume reading. This time, you were pressed against his chest to look at the book he read from, petting the small tuffs of thin, soft hair on his chest.

Just before midnight, you stretched against Aemond's side to then lean up, caress his one cheek, and press your lips to the other. His cheeks filled with a grin as you obnoxiously hummed through your wet pecks, nose nuzzling the side of his own.

"Hey," you whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Ready for your last surprise?"

He sighed, "As if today wasn't enough?"

"Mhm."

Aemond chuckled, patting your hip, "All right, yeah, let's get it done. Go on, pretty girl," his lips pecked your forehead.

With a another grin, you shot out of bed and readjusted your robe to locate the last, final gift of the evening. When you turned, your nerves suddenly flared as you stared at your husband; propped in your bed, eyepatch on, single eye staring back at you with mild curiosity. "Um," you looked to the wrapped parcel in your hands, "yeah, you know what, now - now, this feels a little inappropriate."

Your words caught Aemond's attention, making him sit up and set the book aside. "No, don't do that. You had the thought, c'mere, walk me through it."

That was something about your husband you were overtly grateful for: he always wanted you to explain, take you thought-by-thought to better understand your emotions.

Nervously, you shuffled forward. "I can always return it," you assured, slowly taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Aemond's head cocked. "And you don't have to wear it, either..."

"I wish to assure you but I don't know what it is," he chuckled lightly. "Are you going to let me see?"

You sighed with crinkled brows, hand shaking as you held the gift to him. Aemond slowly accepted it and began to unwrap it, revealing a thickly padded velvet box.

"More jewelry?" He teased lightly, sparing you a glance.

However, your throat constricted as you gulped, "If it's too much, Aemond, I'm truly sorry a-and I'll replace it - I'll return it."

He sighed patiently and opened the box, pausing in earnest shock. He looked from the new, rounded sapphire to your amethyst orbs as words evaded him for several long moments. It left time for your nerves to spike, waiting for his first move.

But you had to explain yourself.

"I-I know you do not want me to see your injury," you nodded. "But I wanted to show you that I don't need to see it in order to love you. While I wish I could go back and undo the years of torment and ridicule, I cannot... And I cannot change your mind that you do not need to hide away, but I would hope you come to see there is no reason to hide away from me. But only when you're ready," you smiled slightly, "and I hoped this sapphire could replace what you use now. Mira said it's seen better days, so, I just... I just thought," you shrugged nervously, picking at the bed sheets in an effort to distract your overwhelming thoughts. "You know?"

Aemond slowly let his lips spread in a bright grin, "This is... I do not know what to call this, but by the Gods, my love, I have never been bestowed such a gift."

"I love you," you promised, nodding at him in assurance.

Something in Aemond's mind clicked and after glancing to the door, he asked, "Could you lock the door, pet?"

"Why?"

"We don't need to be disturbed," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You did as he asked, and when you returned, he was guiding you into his lap to settle in a straddle.

"Is it too much?" You worried, hands to his neck as your eyes were drawn to the gem sitting beside your calf.

"No, sweetheart," he whispered, hands holding your hips, "'s actually really beyond words. I do not know what to say other than thank you."

You smiled gently, "You're welcome. I hope you know that I do not think any less of you because of this." Your hand rose to hold his cheek, thumb sweeping slowly to caress the bottom half of his scar. "If anything, it really adds to your charm," you smirked gently.

He let a breathy laugh out through his nose, "Yet, I think I have a surprise for you, love."

"Oh? What would that be, husband?" You smiled, leaning in to peck his lips, but did not release your hold of his face.

He sighed, "Take it off."

"My robe?"

"Well," he paused, nodding, "yes, that, too, but I meant the patch."

You gaped at him for a moment, "Look, Aemond, you shouldn't because I want you to, it should be what you feel comfortable doing. We can wait."

But his hands retreated from your form to tug at the ties of your robe, easily pushing it from your shoulders to leave you bare to him. He leaned back some, eye raking over your form spread on his lap. "I do feel comfortable, pet. But only with you," he sighed. His hand rose to sweep his thumb over your pebbling nipple, "C'mere, love. Gonna help me change it out?"

"You're serious?" You gawked, trying to ignore the ministrations of his fingers.

"I don't take the gem out anymore," he nodded, still toying with your tit as he glanced at your gifted sapphire. "That looks like a better fit, more snug."

"I'm not forcing it in socket," you warned, feeling your stomach churn - but from anxiety or arousal, you weren't sure.

"No, I would not ask that of you," He nodded, other hand moving to the laces that laid at the top of his trousers to loosen them. His thighs clenched to lift you up, now holding you to his chest as he worked his trousers from his hips. "Easy," he whispered to you, one hand holding his leaking member as the other guides you back down.

Turns out, intimacy turned your husband on - another note you made.

You both breathed out sharply when his tip prodded at your entrance, but with one fell swoop, you were sunk onto his hips; his cock fully sheathed.

Your hands pet over his cheeks, glancing to the leather eyepatch. "You're truly sure?" You whispered.

"I am," he promised, "go ahead, love. But please... Do not shy away."

Your heart shattered at his words, but you whispered back, "Never."

As if in distraction for himself, Aemond started to rut your hips into his own; creating both tension and friction. Your hands eased over his hair and just felt along the strap, his eye closing to press into your neck. You let him be and started to increase your pace as your fingers toyed with the latch.

Aemond grunted when the years of horseback and dragon riding proved useful; letting your hips move on their own accord to stroke him for all he was worth. His thrusts slowly started to meet yours as you let the latch of the eyepatch go slack, hearing his breathing stagger.

You caressed his face to your neck still but slowly pulled the leather eyepatch off, letting it fall to the side. Aemond's arms coiled like vices around your waist, keeping you impossibly close as you purposefully increased your pace. His hot breath fanned over your collarbones as your hands gently caressed his jaw to ease him back.

He was stiff and kept his eye closed, but perhaps, that was to your advantage. You kept your face neutral, fully pulling yourself off his cock before slamming back down in an impossible rhythm; just gazing over his injury as the dull sapphire in socket stared back at you. "Aemond," you whispered, changing pace so you more-so rolled your hips into his, "look at me, love, please."

With another gulp, Aemond slowly opened his eye and only found your passionate, blissed expression.

"This is what you hide from me?" You asked gently. "You do not feel how tight I am? Gazing at you, fully," you appreciated, thumb sweeping across the bare scar to then gently hook into his bottom lip and jaw; tugging lightly to punctuate your words, "and seeing you like this is something mouthwatering, love."

"Don't," he whispered.

"What?"

"Give me false hope," he grit, taking control of your hips to hump into you at a faster pace. His feet planted flat on the mattress to give himself leverage behind you.

"I would never," you panted, "I only offer you truth. Fuck's sake, Aemond, I saw you when this first happened and I was not repulsed then - I am not now. You, my dear, sweet husband," you leaned so your lips hovered over his, "are so incredibly beautiful. Two eyes or one or none, I am in love with your mind, body, and soul."

"Fuck," he licked your bottom lip before growling and taking you in his arms so he could flip you both.

"Gods," you moaned when he gave his first thrust, new angle creating a pressurized, piercing feeling in your gut. But your hands all but slapped over his cheeks to pull him closer, "You're so fucking handsome, Aemond, do not hide from me anymore. Please, my love, I cannot bare the idea of you turning away."

"After tonight, how can I?" he smirked some, dropping a sloppy kiss to your lips. His hips retracted only to push forward with a roll of his hips, creating a feeling of explicit pleasure in your blood and guts.

"Good," you mused, holding onto his neck and shoulders as his thumb reached to circle around your pearl. "I always want to see you. Fuck," you whined at that familiar feeling.

"You close, pretty girl? Gonna cum for me?" He smirked, lips moving over yours. He gave a grunt and let his head drop to your neck, one hand under your shoulder to keep his balance as the other held one of your legs up his hip.

"Yes, yes, yes," you whined, gasping when his tongue flattened to your neck before scraping his teeth over a sensitive spot. You knew the flesh of your neck and chest would be marked by his doing but did not care; eager to wear his love-bites as badges of honor. "Aemond," you begged in his ear, hands smoothing his hair back with desperate movements.

"That's a good girl," he praised, pulling back to lift his torso and hold both your hips in a pin against the bed. Then, he rose them slightly to angle, making your feet plant and legs widen as he started to thrust again. "Huh?" He reached for your neck, staring straight into your eyes. "Gonna cum around me, love? Let me feel you fall apart?"

You nodded mutely, his hand pressing down to your throat as your legs started to shake from overstimulation. You felt briefly frustrated for not cumming yet, but you were only strokes away once Aemond angled your hips a little more properly. But when his head bowed to watch his cock hammer in and out, glistening in your juices, you reached for him, "Don't turn away."

Aemond smirked and moved so he hovered over you, needing to release your throat to hold his weight; pressing dangerously hard to your clit as his cock swelled with pleasure.

Yet, his breathing faltered when you whispered, "I love you exactly as you are, Aemond." His eye met yours, hand reaching to caress his cheek as your ankles locked behind his pert buttocks. "Do not turn away, I love seeing you - all of you. I will not tire of this sight," you promised through your higher-pitched breathing, slowly whimpering as oxygen felt hard to come by as your climax mounted.

His lips caught the moan off your tongue, sweeping into your mouth only to pull back to stare at you. "Open your mouth," he commanded. One arm, again, lay under your shoulder as the other was occupied to your clit. "C'mon, pretty girl, open your fucking mouth."

You did as bid, and his smirk was broad before not wasting time to pucker his lips as he gathered spit before slowly letting it push from his mouth - dripping to your tongue, and rolling to the back of your throat. You were almost unsure what to do, never experiencing this before, but didn't have to think hard or for long because Aemond was descending and letting his tongue invade your mouth.

Your throat constricted easily, almost absentmindedly.

"Good girl," he purred.

"Wait," you bit your lip.

"What's wrong?" He worried, brows crinkling as his thrusting slowed.

"No, no," you encouraged, heels bearing down to his flesh, "keep going, please. But let me," you spoke, letting one hand drift to your pearl and gently swat his away.

He actually moaned and sat back again to watch you, and from this angle, it was exactly what you needed. Your husband's sapphire only reflected the light of the room but it was enough to push you over the edge once you took a new direction and speed to your clit. Aemond watched in fascination, lips gently parted, as you came undone around him; back arching, eyes shutting, and both hands quickly darting up to palm your breasts.

"Aemond," you whined, eyes cracking open slightly. "My love - please."

"I'm here, pet," he whispered, holding your waist as he started to chase his own pleasure. "You're so fucking tight," he grit lightly.

You whimpered, but before you realized it, your hips were raising to meet his thrusts; one hand holding his neck as the other reached to fondle his stones. Aemond didn't last beyond another thrust, cumming with a shout as his hips stuttered into yours; both hands planted to the sides of your head to keep a stiff-armed posture.

Manicured hands guided him back to you, legs encouraging him to collapse into your body as lips claimed his. Seemingly giving way, he let you push him to his back as you only turned to lift a leg over his hip. He grunted, pushing his hips forward again to keep himself seated deeply in you; peppering kisses to your lips, nose, and chin.

You laid beside one another and you soaked in the sight of him as you both tried to regain your breathing. After a few moments of aimlessly letting your fingertips caress the skin of his face, he cracked a teasing smile, and through his short pants, teased, "You're gonna stare a lot now, aren't you?"

You chuckled, "Would that be such a crime?"

"Not at all, pretty girl," he assured, hands holding your back and hip to keep you close. "Though it might get a bit creepy."

You shrugged, "You married me, so..."

Snickering, Aemond agreed happily, "Yes, I did. And I'd do it again, my love." A hand rose to let his fingertips now guide your chin up so your gaze met his. "I don't know what I did to deserve this union, but I am trying my best to give proper thanks for it. But tonight, my love," he breathed, "I do not know what to say."

"Well, considering you're still stuffed inside me, better say something nice," you teased gently, hearing him chuckle.

"I fear I must ask your assistance in something." You hummed in question, tugging yourself up slightly to caress his jaw and cheek as you kissed at his skin. "Help me change the gem."

"Not in Seven Hells," you refused with a small gasp. "You lost your mind?"

He smirked, "C'mon, sweet girl, if we're doin' this, let's just do it all. I do not trust anyone else but you, yet, I can go ask someone else for help - "

"I might stab you," you lightly threatened with a pout. "Considering the time we've been married and I am only now seeing you," you sighed gently, thumb sweeping over his scar as you stared into the sapphire for a moment, "I would feel great shame if anyone else assisted you... Though, I must confess, I only worry for hurting you."

"You could never," he assured, his hand aiding hair from the side of your head back behind your ear. "You were not wrong, the one I wear should probably be changed. So, we're gonna get the gem out, and..."

"And?" You spoke softly.

He sighed, "Would it... Would it run you off if I asked you to see the injury... Without the sapphire?"

Your heart melted at the unsure, veiled nervousness to his tone. "You're not gonna run me off, love. I will look at all of you," you spoke softly, leaning in to kiss his lips, "gemstone or no."

He sighed. "Lay here a moment, we'll need a dagger."

"For?" You pondered when he moved from under you, cock pulling free with a small grunt, to then let his feet hit the stone floor.

"To get the gem out," he eased casually.

"I am not taking a dagger to your face, Aemond!" You snapped in alarm, reaching for your dressing robe that hung at the bottom edge of the mattress.

"No, love, I will," he assured, grabbing a short-blade from his weapons belt. "You just sit there," he whispered, moving back to your side. You frowned, and once he sat, moved so you were pressed to his flank. Your lips pressed warm kisses to his shoulder, watching as he all too easily used the tip of the blade to pop the gem from his eye socket. Perhaps the one he used truly wasn't a proper fit and was too loose.

Yet, he did not face you.

Reaching for his cheek, you first let your forehead rest against his temple. "Whenever you're ready," you whispered.

"T-This might be the part you run," he returned.

"Sweetheart, please," you sighed sadly, "I am not going to turn away, run, puke my insides, want to leave you, or think any different. Well, that last bit might not be true," you waited until his head tilted just a fraction to meet your smiling-eyes, "because I can only love you more for trusting me this far. But... I-If this is far enough, we don't have to proceed. You can put the gem back in, and we can - "

"No, no," he took a breath. "Once it's in, I rarely take it out... I-I want you to see."

You nodded, "Okay. Then, whenever you're ready."

Aemond took a sobering breath before wrapping his arm around you so his torso twisted slightly. He needed another moment, head bowing to cradle yours into his neck and shoulder; then, sniffling with a soft nod. "Okay."

"All right," you whispered, but did not move.

The fire crackled, sending a pop of ash and ember into the air.

Aemond lifted himself from your warmth and took another long breath in - letting it out sharply and nodding as he cleared his throat. He waited with your hands in his as you slightly peaked around the front of him to get your first look at the extent of his injury.

What a sight it was.

"Oh, love," you breathed, reaching to caress his cheek and gently tilt it downward. "It's healed really nicely, wow, look at that. Looks really good - "

"What?" He jerked up in confusion.

"What?" You asked in return, confused by his own.

"T-That is what you say when you see it?"

"What did you think I'd say?" You worried.

"In truth, I am unsure, but it... It was not that," he admitted.

You smiled sadly and reached again, looking into the deadened, empty socket. "It's not pretty, but injuries such as these rarely are. Though, for what it's worth, it has healed nicely. Why do you wear the sapphire?"

"You see it," he whispered. "It gives fright."

You sighed, "Maybe surprise but not fright."

"You're too tenderhearted, my love," he chuckled a bit. "I did not choose to wear a sapphire just before we married. 'S been years with both gem and patch."

"Well, with me, you need not worry about either if you don't want to," you nodded. "The sight of you - the true you - does not startle me, my love. I am honored at your reveal."

His forehead met yours as he sighed, reaching to pet over your lips lightly. "I am blessed to call you wife."

"And what an honor to be your wife, Lord husband," you assured, leaning in to kiss him again - trying not to think about how you had uttered virtually those same words to Ladies from court, who has offered insult to your husband before.

Aemond smirked gently and sniffled, "You're making me soft."

"Good," you teased, "I like you like this."

"Hmm?"

"Totally whipped for me," you laughed, his hands seizing over your ribs in playful reprimand. "Hey, hey, hey, the feeling is mutual, my love. Please," you chuckled lightly. He only hummed and pecked your lips, pulling back to take a deep breath as if to digest your reaction. "Come here, let's make sure Parne's gem fits."

"Parne?" Aemond repeated, watching you shuffle back to the upper middle of the bed and make sure the gem hadn't fallen from your vigorous antics.

"Mhm," you nodded, "the jeweler?"

"I know her," he assured softly. "She sold you one of her Precious Gems?"

"Am I to know what that means?"

His head shook, "No, I suppose not. I buy from her, too... We've spoken of her gemstones before, though she would never sell them."

"Hmm, maybe I am just special," you considered softly, fingering the blue gem. "Sure you wouldn't prefer an amethyst?"

"'S more your eye color, love," he smirked, meeting you in bed. "All right, c'mere."

Together, Aemond guided you in how to properly place the stone back in his socket, and because it was a larger stone, it took just a bit of persuasion from the heel of your palm. It wasn't the most comfortable procedure and you wanted to call a Maester for Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond refused - citing the pain would be gone in a few hours. When done, you both pushed whatever did not belong from the mattress before shimmying under the covers.

His eyepatch laid on the floor and you grinned against his lips, unable to soothe your vast excitement over his revelation.

While you slept in the following morning, Aemond, who had yet to allow himself to rest, only waited an hour for the sun to rise. He carefully slid out from your embrace and knew he was on a clock before you sensed he was gone, so, he dressed quickly and darted out of the secret passage.

Avoiding any guards this early was simple enough, and just as the sun rose to fill the sky with new light, he arrived at Madam Parne's.

"Ah, Prince Aemond," the jeweler smirked when he entered, "I was beginning to wonder when you might show up."

He sighed, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Sell my wife one of your gems? You've never sold one before."

"In truth, my Prince, I've had a recent brush with mortality," Parne admitted softly, "and instead of holding onto my Precious Gems, I decided your wife's intentions true enough. Tell me, does it fit?"

Aemond lifted his chin, "Very nicely, I'd say."

"Good," She nodded with earnest. "So, why are you here now?"

"I think you know."

Parne smirked, "I took the liberty of gathering these options."

On the presentation table, Parne sat with Aemond for a moment to go over the showcases full of sapphire jewelry. However, he didn't need to think twice when he saw the set he'd come to buy, pointing at the sapphire gem set in a silver band, connecting to a single strand chain, that then hooked into a silver-chained necklace. There was also a band of matching-cut sapphires set in a bracelet, along with a silver sapphire ring that he longed to see on one of your fingers.

Paying the accented woman, Aemond held the parcel in a tight grip as his hood was drawn to prevent unwanted attention with his free hand gripping his sword's pommel in a white-knuckle strength.

Stopping once more at a boutique, he kept his promise, and bought you five new silk slips - some even lined with lace.

He snuck back into the Keep and paused at a different corridor to slip down and visit the kitchens. Chef Uller worried the dinner he prepared wasn't good enough when he saw the One Eyed Prince but Aemond assured it was delicious and he only meant to order breakfast be sent to their rooms.

"Why come yourself, my Prince?" Uller worried.

"My wife speaks highly of you, I was merely curious," he glanced around. "Speaking of, I should return to her."

"We'll have your meal brought up when ready," Uller promised, making Aemond nod and turn out of the kitchens.

When he made it back to your rooms, he sighed to see you sitting up in bed with folded arms - but your face only wore an expression of worry. "Oh," you sighed with relief when he snuck back through the door, "there you are."

"Apologies, sweet girl," he apologized, toeing out of his boots and tossing aside his cloak. He didn't bother with a jerkin that day and only wore a thin tunic, easily sliding back into bed with you. He explained, "I had to run an errand."

"I thought - "

"I did take today off," he smirked, holding out the two parcels, "but I had to get these for you."

"Oh, Gods be good," you rolled your eyes, pinning him with a look. "The day after your nameday, you go out and buy me something?"

"To say thank you, yes," he nodded, jostling the boxes. You took them, and without thinking, Aemond reached for his eyepatch and pulled it off to toss aside. When you opened the first gift, you laughed. "Five more, yes?" He smirked at you.

"Good job, love," you teased, letting your forehead press to his temple before closing the lid and setting the box aside. You then picked up the second gift.

You gasped lightly when you opened it, "It's so we match," Aemond smirked as he leaned in to peck your cheek.

"Oh, you," you chuckled, reaching for the back of his neck to surge into his arms - swallowing each other's moans. Yet, you made one more request, "Put it on me?"

"Why now?" He chuckled, tongue pushing into your mouth to messily tangle with your own.

When he pulled back, you whispered, "So you might fuck me with only these gems on."

And who was he to refuse his wife?

[ part one ]

[ series masterlist ]

[multific]

Aemond With a Fierce Wife - Headcanons

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

You were no noble

But you sure behaved like one

You were all so grand and beautiful

And once you married Aemond, this fierceness in you only grew

One would describe you as a bitch with a nasty attitude

You didn't hold your tongue for anyone

No matter who they were

Man

Woman

King

Queen

Prince

or Princess

You took no exception when it came to your honest opinions

You were very honest and raw

It was a part of you which made Aemond fall in love

Even when you just met him, a lady-in-waiting for a Princess he was supposed to court

You behaved like a Queen

The way you held yourself

The way you walked and talked

And that shoulder of yours which was always out, glistening in the sun as you moved, drove him wild

Your tongue was sharp

Aemond liked that

So, instead of the sweet princess, he married you and made you a Princess

Funny enough you were almost the complete opposite with him

Your smirk always turned into a full smile

Your sharp tongue could say such sweet things to him

Truth be told he feared you only wanted his name

But that was the farthest from the truth

At first, you wanted him because you hated the Princess

You wanted to show her that you are just as capable

To make up for every comment she made about you

How she often belittled you without any reason

For how she spoke of you behind your back

Calling you names

Oh yes, you wanted revenge 

But then you fell in love

Aemond was so different from all the other men

He showed kindness

He showed care

He was a real strong man

He was interesting

Smart

You wanted him

Not his eye, not his title, not his name or dragon

But him, Aemond

And true love you found in him

You loved gowns, the bigger the better

Sparkly, colourful 

Something perhaps not even the Queen herself would wear

But let's be honest Alicent adores you

She was the mother you never had

And something about your sharp nature intrigued her

Watching you in your grand dresses, all different colours, she loved to dress you

Given half of your dresses came from her, you felt like she dressed you more than her own daughter

You always stood your ground

Never even blinked

Not even in the presence of Rhaenyra

Alicent liked that no matter what happened, you stood up for her family

She listened to you defend her family harshly

One time you even laughed into the face of the King himself

The King wanted your head for such treason 

But the point you made and the way you defended yourself

No one was match when it came to you defending someone you loved

Not even the King

How could you not defend them?

You finally had a family

Aegon often referred to you as the snake

Spitting venom

But you just laughed

“Brother, hold your wife on a tighter grip.” Aegon said

“Looks like the Prince is scared of a woman who has her own opinion.”

“I’m not afraid.” he said taking a sip of wine.

“Then why are you shaking?” the rise of your brow, the silence in the room, you loved it.

Aemond loved it

Aegon changed a lot with you in the family

As if your words cut deeper than his own mothers ever could

One evening, you found him passed out on the floor

“Just what are you doing?”

“Sleeping.” he replied, not even opening his eyes.

“Right, a true King you will be, sleeping in your own piss and vomit. Aegon The Great Sleeper they will call you.”

The family was strong when you arrived but they only grew stronger

Aemond didn't care for his eye any longer

Barely even wore the eyepatch

Showing off the sapphire you admired

You changed the family but you never changed yourself

You were strong as a mountain

"No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it."

You would often say

But once you were in your chambers with your husband

Once the gowns and jewellery were off

Once it was only you and him

You were a sweet woman

No venom, no attitude

Just you and him

Just a woman and her husband

Aemond swore he saw so many sides of you he often wondered which one was the real one

"All of me is real, My Prince. A woman is like the elements, we could be dangerous as fire, but also soothing and calm as the water."

"And you, My Love, combine all of that with the fierceness of a dragon."

"Or snake as your brother likes to refer to me as."

"He is not smart."

"Because he used to be drunk most of the time, now that he put his cup down, finally he can see behind it and not only the bottom of it."

"You are clever my love. I wonder you never had any choice words as such towards me, why would that be?"

"Oh, who am I to criticize perfection, My Love?"

You loved his smile

It was so easy for you to make him smile

No doubt, you were his firey, fierce but loving wife

A/N: Who caught the Mulan quote? It’s one of my absolute favourites.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

              DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[theold-ultraviolence]

HEYYY JUST HAD A THIUGHT IDK (for the eyepatch story btw)

what about when aemond gets betrothed and he always comes back to her like at night(when he first heard about the match) he comes to her shop and they sleep together (LIKE ACTUAL SLEEP) and he tells her about it and it’s just fluffy and he’s like you’ll always be the one i love’ and it’s kinda hurt/comfort idk

Interlude

Aemond Targaryen x seamstress!reader

Summary: A quiet moment between Aemond and his seamstress, before he breaks the news to her that he's been betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. A/N: OMG OMG THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS! I was trying to figure out how to write the third part of this, and this served as the perfect interlude between the second part and the next!!!!! This was exactly what I needed to bridge the plot, so thank you my dear!! CW: Angst!! Hurt & comfort and a little surprise at the end...Words: 1k. // More of the seamstress!reader series here.

While orbiting around the sun of your imagination, you’ve often wondered if it was possible for time to freeze – if places existed, where the dimensions of space and time diverged to one’s convenience, or even safety, or indulgence.

Never did you imagine that you’d ever find your answer, in your very own bed, in the arms of your lover, Aemond.

These places were but a fantasy of yours, much like bedding the Targaryen Prince, yet here, in the back of your shop in the Street of Looms, time dissolves, like the last drops of liquor out of a fine bottle of wine, or like the cold chill of an afternoon in spring, when summer rolls through the season. 

Tangled in sheets, Aemond spoons you from behind as he drifts in and out of sleep; strong arms and legs are wrapped around you as he nuzzles the side of your neck – his quiet snores and grunts keep you grounded, awake and making the most of every moment, lest this warm embrace sends you into a realm of sleep so deep it is dreamless.

This is the dream, right here, living and breathing – with soft, pillowy lips and a sharp nose that’s resting on your shoulder blade. 

You let him sleep all he wants, as he often comes to you when he needs a peaceful rest away from the cacophony of the Red Keep, though you just can’t do the same.

Something within you calls for you to relish every second you have with him, for you never know when these moments might be yanked from you. There’s always a cloud of danger looming outside of your home when he comes to you – weariness in the pit of your stomach from the mere thought of this affair with the prince being found out. 

This feeling of dread remains at the pit of your gut when Aemond groans and stirs from his sleep behind you, holding onto you even tighter – tighter still than how he hugs you every time he leaves your home. 

“My love…” beneath the endearing layer of sleepy-gruff voice, there’s a note that makes you intertwine your hands with his in a fierce grip, and reply with tredipitation, not yet turning over to face him. 

“Yes, what is it, dear love?” 

His voice comes out muffled from his face being pressed against your naked back, and each vowel seems to be strung out from his throat by force. 

“There is something I need to tell you, but it will not be easy.” 

Your heart drops to your stomach, while you grit your teeth and take a deep breath, giving his hand a squeeze so he could continue. 

“When the morrow comes, I will be off to Storm’s End. My house has turned upside down because of the succession as you know, and…” 

You’re stiff, clinging onto every word for dear life, like a diver who’s lingering by the slippery edge of the cliff, for fear of hitting the rocks on the dive down to the ocean. 

“The reason why I’m flying to Storm’s End is because I was betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters.” 

Aemond says this bit in one quick go, but it doesn’t take away from how deep it stings.

Your eyes burn akin to someone throwing acid on them as you try to refrain from crying – your chest feels like it’s being stuffed with grovel, and you grind your teeth so hard you're surprised you don't crack a molar.

“I don’t know which one yet, it has not been decided. I am to propose the arrangement to Lord Borros, in fact, in order to secure his alliance with us, and his support to my brother.” 

“I...” you choke on your words, letting out a long sigh to calm yourself down, but you can only bury your head in your pillow and scrunch your eyes shut to block out your tears.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmur wetly against your pillow. “‘Tis your duty, my prince. Let us be truthful, Aemond. We knew this day would come. We knew that what we have between us couldn’t have lasted long.” 

Neither speak for what seems like an eternity, as your fate sinks in and suddenly the string of your time together seems to be cutting itself short. 

“So be it, for the prosperity of the kingdom and your brother’s rule. I suppose congratulations are in order, my prince.” You mutter, with your back to him, still. 

“Look at me,” he softly whispers, gently nudging you so you’d finally turn in his arms. 

When you finally face him, hurt flashes on his lilac eye when he sees the tear stains on your cheeks. He frames your face in his palms while gazing at you longingly – already missing you, when he’s not even gone yet. 

His voice is as soft as embroidery thread, but just as frail when he whispers against your lips. “You are my one true love. My best friend, the one I desire. Nothing and no one will ever change that.” 

“Just you being married to someone else…” You laugh self-deprecatingly, but he fiercely shakes his head and stares at you with conviction.  

“My dear love, I assure you that not even that could break the love that I hold for you in my heart.”  

Tears now come flooding down your face. There’s nothing you can do to stop them, except for maybe hiding your face in the crook of Aemond’s neck and cling to him with all your limbs, hugging him with every inch of your body desperately. 

“Promise me you won’t forget about me.” You bury your pleas right into his skin, selfishly hoping they’ll reach his heart and grow roots there. 

“I could never, my lady, I could never. I hope you won’t forget about me either.” He chuckles miserably, deeply inhaling the scent that emanates from the crown of your head.   

“That’s just impossible, my prince.” 

Being all snug like you were in bed while breathing in sync, it was only a matter of time before your vision blurred and the waking world was no more.  

You sleep deeply through the night, and when you wake up, your heart once more contracts when you extend your hand and notice Aemond’s not there. 

His comforting presence is now gone, taking with him the magic that is making time stand still, for the universe to stop spinning. 

You turn away from his empty spot on your bed, and notice that something glints in your nightstand, due to the sun rays filtering in through your curtain. 

Rubbing your eyes, you sit on your bed and your jaw drops, when the object becomes clear – after you take it in your fingers and turn it over, appraising every minute detail with awe. 

There in the palm of your hand, rests a ring, with a golden band and a sapphire encrusted within an intricate, circular frame…

[weepinwriter]

“Immortality feels more like a curse when you believe your very breathe is laced with ill fortune. I, the shepherd of tragedy, carry the heavy knowledge that my touch may be more of a curse than blessing.

Name : Caesar

Age : He is in his mid thirties

Appearance : Caesar is a tall, imposing man of 6’3”. Everything about him is monochrome – from his dark blue eyes and messy tousled gray hair, black eyepatch over his right eye, pale, almost ashen skin, and all-black outfit. Befitting of his battle-hardened gaze, he boasts a well-toned, muscular body that is often hidden by his clothes but is no doubt scarred. Caesar is half blind, having lost his right eye to a terrorist attack five years ago.

Personality : Caesar is a very charming and sweet person, albeit a little clumsy and awkward around crowds. He’s sharp and his experiences as a commander has given him enough skill to deal with troublesome people. Despite being a workaholic who works overtime to the point of sleeping in his office and not returning home for days, Caesar is a neat freak. He does not tolerate disorder at all and will actively try to tidy things up even if not required. Around his friends Caesar may be a sweetheart and charming commander, but during duty he is cold, cruel and calculative. He shows no mercy towards law breakers and delinquents and will not hesitate to execute the more serious offenders on the spot by the authority given to him by the Master of the 5th District. Yet underneath his tough exterior lies a broken man with a past filled with death. His apparent immortality has made him believe that he is the bearer of death and misfortune. His silent self loathing of himself doesn't help the issue as well, making him a highly dyfunctional yet sophisticated individual to deal with.

Background : Not much information can be acquired on this individual as all data is heavily regulated and censored. All that is known to the public is that he came from an upper middle class family from the 5th District. The subject joined the FAE (Framework Against Evil) at the age of 18. The family went bankrupt soon after following an acquisition of their business by the Quinn Industries. The subject is a widower with a single daughter, age 10. Remaining data cannot be retrieved.

Likes : Gardening, his job, pastries, white roses, reading, the sun

Dislikes : Darkness, failure, disorder, unnecessary skin contact

Pet peeves : Interrupters, people who beat around the bush unnecessarily, bad public manners

Trivia :

Adores tea; literally needs to have someone swap it out with water so he doesn’t end up getting no sleep with how much he drinks it on a daily basis.

Almost surprisingly, he likes to read storybooks as well–yes, like the type that young children read, because he finds them calming and entertaining.

Enjoys rainy days, but likes clear days a bit better as the sunrise and sunset are stunning to look at and watch

[undermine-the-instinct]

Imagine being a personal maid for hire. Maybe you work at some business or organization that services maids or cleaning help. And let's say that youve been requested. You have a good track record and you do your work well.

But these people!!

Okay, imagine being called to clean the residence of the cavalry captain. He says he's hardly there so it's so dusty, and he never has the time for personal cleaning. Alright, whatever. But when you get there, the place…it's literally covered in dust. There are spare bottles of wine and clothes strewn everywhere. Oddly enough the bed is made and the bathroom is clean too but everything else? Horrible.

When he does decide to sleep in his bed rather than the office, he hires you in the mornings to cook some breakfast and perhaps a lunch, and clean up whatever he leaves behind. Easy. If he would shut his mouth. Always with a grin and some cute catchphrase. One time you come in early, with the spare key he had given you, and you arrive in time to see him at the mirror, putting on his eyepatch, hair in disarray and half dressed. You flush, but you're a professional, at least until he smiles, and you know a flirty quip is sharp on his tongue.

You flee with your red face to the little kitchen. Horribly enough, he follows you, half dressed and all, still sleepy eyed and voice low. He mangescto trap you between his body and one of the counters, and you try to glare at him and not look too flustered by his gaze and the open plane of his chest. You ask if hes enjoying himself. And low voiced he says yes, he is. He now knows your weakness and exploits it. This is an ongoing thing.

_____________________

You get called to the Favonius Headquarters to clean there too, since your company is often hired for this place. You try to avoid the cavalry captain. You usually succeed. You end up in the office of the acting headmaster, and you want to wince at the coffee mugs everywhere, the pens and papers. She smiles so wearily, pale gold in the Monstadt sun and you think she should be brighter.

She's too young to look so tired, you tell her. She laughs and says you're too pretty in that outfit, that she'll get distracted at this rate. But then she flushes and tells you to forget what she said. Jean says that everything is an organized mess, she knows where everything is but could you please get rid if these mugs? And pass her that pen please? If you don't mind please hand her that paper and deliver this document to miss Lisa? Well, the bags under her eyes are so heavy, and she seems so stressed so–wait, no, you do mind! But it's already too late, you're already at the library.

_____________________

Thankfully, Miss Lisa isn't too messy. There are a few stacks of books everywhere though, leading you to trip and fall into her forever open arms. Or ample bosom.

She lets you go with a squeeze or a wink, and tells you you should be wearing something cuter than the droll work clothes you usually wear. You don't comment. She corners you in dark corners and presses unto you when she's reaching around you, or above in a higher shelf for a book. She smells so nice, like books and dried flowers and something richer underneath.

She helps rety your apron in the back, smoothes down your stray hairs. If she catches your eyes from across the room she smiles, pouts a little. You try to focus. Miss Lisa is a flirt, and the quips she throws or the pecks she gives you on your forehead or cheek is….sweet, but unprofessional! You're not here to dilly dally! You go back to dusting, and the cloud that emerges is the only thing that keeps her away.

_____________________

You were called as extra staff for the Angel's Share once too. Apparently the partying had gone on so long and was so rambunctious that some extra help was needed, since there weren't enough workers and the off duty ones wouldn't make it in time or at all. Luckily your company is prepared to work at any moment. You actually didn't really wanna go so late, but a hefty tip was surely reserved for you. You cleaned quickly, and efficiently, and you jolted when the young Lord Ragnvindr came up behind you and paid a compliment. You had bumped into him earlier, bussing tables, and he had simply righted you with a quick arm around you, steadying you. His hand was so big and warm, like a brand against your belly, you blush just thinking about it. He made a jest that he should hire you for his manor instead, and you chuckled good naturedly. He offers you a drink, on the house, but its much too late for a drink now, you say. Besides, you don't really like to drink on the job or otherwise, it clouds your judgment and then how will you get home? He chuckles and says you have a point. You dont think you imagine the flare in his eyes. The pleasant, idle conversation between you two is obliterated when a green clad bard falls onto the table between you two.

_____________________

He is young, and he reeked of wine, clothes wrinkled and skewed. He still drunkenly sang, off tune but still beautiful, slurring about if he saw a God before him. He rose back up and teetered, and you gasped when he fell atop you, his mouth a hairsbreath from yours. You caught him and the open wine in his hand split, staining your white apron. He just giggled against your cheek while you both glared down at him, slurring out half hearted apologies. Weeks later he was still apologizing to you and still trying to get you to let him buy you a drink, if he could pay that is. "How about you buy me a new apron!" You had called out. Two days later, at your company, a brand new, frilly white apron was waiting for you, crisp and cute. A single dandelion came with the gift.

_____________________

Why the hell were you here? When your company said they'd extend their services anywhere, at any time, you didn't think they'd send you to Dragonspine!! You had to set some boundaries! It didn't matter whether cute librarians or cavalry captains flirted at you, or acting grandmasters smiled at you over coffee. Or even if young bachelor Lords smiled at you and gave you free drinks in the house, boundaries!! No matter how good the pay was, or how cute your frilly new apron— Okay, but this guy was actually pretty cute. What was with the people you were sent to? They were all attractive!!!

Okay, so he had a chemical reaction that's safe to clean but he needs the mess cleaned up before the knights check in and realize he wasn't doing any work. Okay. Got it. It's easy enough to come off, and you're not at risk of loosing your fingers, and you ask questions about what project he's doing now.

He answers your questions easily, and you almost feel bad for bothering him, but then you remember you're dealing with hazardous chemicals. Consider it part of the pay. A few weeks of cleaning and conversations later, you arrive early and catch an open notebook on his desk.

It's your face and form that graces the pages. Pages and pages. You in your winter work outfit and silly frills. Your duster and sprays. Cleaning, talking, laughing. Most embarrassingly perhaps is just a simple front view sketch. But the way he drew your eyes, your cheek and the curve of your mouth…

You blush, not having noticed his gaze, or how he walks in at that moment. He speaks and you jolt, as he explains how he couldn't just let such a lovely specimen go unnoticed. He smiles, really smiles for the first time, soft and a little bashful.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next day you head over to your boss, because you just cant take this anymore! You're a maid for hire, not a hostess or drawing model or barmaid or whatever! Your heart can't take this! You need to be transferred!

Luckily, your company is opening up a few new branches, and as their best worker. They'd like to send you to represent them! Alas, the pay is great but the travel is very far.

Liyue, Inazuma, or Sumeru. One of the three. Your choice, dear. Your boss doesn't even give you time to leave or think it over, because they need an answer now. Your choice dear.

[sherlockscumslut]

☆ Kaeya Thirst Part 2 ☆

This is the final part! Read Part 1 here

18+ only. P0rn without plot, drunk sex, blow job, creampie, c0ckwarmong,rough sex, vaginal sex, soft Kaeya yes yes, this turned out so Damm soft idk why but I live for it.

Word count: 641

Altr link

Reblogs are very much appreciated 💙

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You...you came all over my skirt..." You said after coming to your senses.

In all honesty, you couldn't care less about a piece of fabric but the wet spot surely wouldn't go unnoticed. Even in the middle of the night, it felt embarrassing to go out with a stained skirt.

Kaeya didn't speak a word. His desire to tease and be the flirtatious type he is was gone. Could it be the embarrassment of cumming untouched? The fact that he stained your skirt? Perhaps the realization of what just happened between you?

"Let me...let me clean you up at least." You said and leaned forward, both hands caressing his erection causing his hips to jolt.

"You know what...? Maybe if we both get drunk we'll feel less awkward." You suggested.

He grinned seductively. "Is that so? Well...Let's try it out. Shall we?"

Two shots, three shots, four shots…

You and Kaeya could've been drunker if you didn't spill the entire bottle on each other's bodies, licking and sucking the wine off your sensitive parts. Both fully naked on the couch, Kaeya sitting with his legs spread out as you slowly poured a glass of wine over his chest, licking your way down his abs and groin.

Kaeya surely sounds hotter when he moans. The way his voice echoes in the room as you sloppily move your tongue on his cock, gives you the strength to keep going, to keep giving him the pleasure he deserves.

It seems as though you got carried away with your tongue movements when Kaeya rolled his eye back and pushed your head down to let his cock deeper inside your mouth. He came without a warning. The way his legs clenched around your waist was a warning. You managed to pull out in time, watching him cum on your hands.

"This doesn't look good...I think I'm gonna pass out...are you even listening?" He asked panting.

You wiped your hands off his pants that were on the floor. "We're even now."

He smirked. "I apologized for your skirt. Then we agreed to take down the entire bottle...why this then?"

"Nothing personal. I just want everyone to see that Mister Kaeya came untouched." You replied jokingly.

A few minutes passed with both of you speaking nonsense as wine ran through your veins and blurred your sense of reality.

"Are you satisfied? Because I'm not." He asked.

"Wasn't you that said that you're gonna pass out?"

"Did I say that?"

"I don't remember. I can't even see at all." You laughed.

"If you let me...I want to do something that it'd be hard to forget even when we're sober."

His words were sincere. You could tell from the softness of his voice as he caressed your cheek.

"Then...do it..." You whispered.

"Come here."

[...]

Kaeya got you laying over his desk, hands gripped on your knees while pushing his cock inside your pussy with all his force, his long blue hair tickling your feet with every thrust. You didn't expect him to last as long a since he has already cum twice but it felt so good to have him inside you.

"Look...Look at me while you do it..." You panted.

Having his eyepatch on didn't stop him from looking straight into your eyes as he finished inside you. He let out a deep breath and laid his head on your shoulder, hands gripped around your back, almost suffocating you.

A moment of silence followed. He proceeded to pull out but you clenched your legs around his waist. His cock has started to get soft again but you didn't care. The sun had begun to rise and soft light penetrated through the curtains. Kaeya's earring touched your collarbone as he gave your neck a quick smooch.

You blushed.

He laughed.

"Now let's get sober together." He whispered.

《 THE END 》

[i-loveyou013]

Teyvat's God

Creator!Reader x Genshin Impact

Summary: The creator descends down to Teyvat once again. Will there be chaos or peace?

-> Sagau AU

-> Wordcount: 0.76k~

-> Cw: Swearing

Masterlist

Request Page

A long, long time ago, there was a god. The creator, to be exact. Oldest being to ever exist. Much older than even Celestia.

Said creator did what they did best. Create. And so originated Teyvat and everything within. Not many have had the honor of seeing the creator, since they were very, very tired after using so much power and energy, they fell asleep and left Celestia in their power.

And time went on and on and on. Creations were still intact. Celestia made sure the world knew about you, their creator. Statues were built, as well as temples. Offerings were given to you each day and people prayed to you each passing second.

At first, humans only prayed to you and only you. They saw you as their saviour, their hero. But faith can crumble, and it did.

You were gone for more than 5 thousand years, not even leaving a message every now and then to ensure you are still there, listening to their prayers and their problems.

Now they pray to other gods. Mostly Archons. They were here, they listened and protected their own people, unlike you.

Where were you?

Noone knew, not even Celestia.

But oh dear, when you showed up, chaos was brought upon Teyvat.

You crunshed your eyebrows. The light was blending you to much for your comfort.

Wait.

Light was blending you! Is that the sun?

You suddenly opened your eyes. Not believing what you saw. You were finally here! After so many years you got your well-deserved rest and created a body to descend down to Teyvat once again.

How you have missed feeling the soft grass under your feet, the wind breezing towards you, the cold water leaving shivers on your body and the sun warming you up.

You sigh, closed your eyes and relaxed. It's been so, so long. Sure noone's gonna miss you for a few additional hours.

Walking around Teyvat has been so fun! So many new things to explore, new animal species you were sure you didn't create. Such as... cats...? You couldn't remember the name, but it didn't matter to you! Your were finally happy. They made you happy!

And wait until you find civilization!

It was fun, really fun. You were astonished by these structures these so called humans build. Back in the old days they were called mortals. Blinded by the beauty of Mondstadt, as they called it, you didn't seem to notice the person in front of you.

So you walked right into them. Not fully used to your new body, you fell. You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the pain... that never came? Could you even experience pain?

You felt soft, cold hands around your wrist. Your eyes slowly opened. Right in front of you was quite the handsome man. Short blue hair covering his black eyepatch. A blue top with white sleeves covering his arms. You can't help but notice a blue glowing ball hanging at his hips. What's that? Before you could even apologize for your clumsyness, he spoke first.

"My, my. What do we have here?" His voice was deep, yet soft. His accent wasn't something you were used to.

Do people still speak the original language? Or do they only know English?

"I'm sorry, sir. I must have been blended by the beauty of this city." You smiled at him. Your voice traced with grace. It wouldn't surprise him if you were hidden royalty.

For a moment he couldn't process what you said. You raidiated grace, importance and power. Not even speaking of your breathtaking beauty. Those eyes, sparkling at every new thing you encountered (which was like everything). Your lips, forming a smile at each passing citizen.

"No worries, I take it you're new to Mondstadt?" He smoothly responded, hiding the fact of his flusterness.

Your eyes lit up. He sweared it was the most beautiful he's ever seen.

"Yes, I certainly am! The architecture is so different compared to the other cities I've visited." Other might say you lied, never seeing other lands such as Liyue. Others might deny it saying you saw cities from 5 thousend years ago and other just don't give a fuck.

"You don't mind me giving you a tour, right? And I'm Kaeya by the way." Kaeya. What a fascinating name. One you've never heard of.

"Kaeya. What a beautiful name. Of course, I don't mind a tour! I'm [Name]. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

Part 2 (coming soon)

[onmyo-jin]

For the fic meme: Pangzi & Hei Xiazi, pirate AU. Gen or romantic, idc. Will love you forever if you give one of them an (unnecessary) eyepatch :D (or if you don't feel like writing these two, then maybe some heihua?)

"Captain?"

"Wang Pangzi, my best First mate, what brings you here this fine evening?" The evening wasn't particularly fine, though the storm that has buffetted their sails all morning had finally passed over them. Wang Pangzi was of course not just the best, but also Captein Hei Xiazi's only first mate, though Pangzi wasn't about to point that out. The captain might get ideas, and appoint a Second First Mate or something equally daft.

Captain Hei Xiazi lowered the spy-glass from his one good eye, and faced Pangzi. Pangzi knew this was just the captain being polite, because with one eye he really only needed... hang on.

The Blind Captain was feared across the seven seas, though the name wasn't quite correct. He still had one good eye, having lost the other in some way. Depending on who told the story he'd lost that eye to a giant be-tentacled sea monster (according to the captain himself). Ship rumours had it he'd lost the eye when he won his famous sea battle, his one ship the Flower of the Sea versus one ship or possibly one whole fleet of the East India Trading company. The ladies in their various ports swore he'd lost the eye in a duel for his true love (though this lover's identity was unknown). Wang Pangzi personally suspected the Captain may have been born with a bad eye, because he never seemed to have had any other name than 'Hei Xiazi'. That's what Pangzi had thought up until some moments ago.

"Captain, wasn't your bad eye your left?" The question escaped him before he could think better of it. In the blood-red light of the post-storm sun Captain Xiazi blinked twice in confusion (with his left, apparently functional??, eye). Then he grinned his most worrying grin: the one that spelled bad news, the one that made ships surrender as soon as they saw the feared Blind Captain. The one that had graced his face that morning, as he'd sailed them into that blasted storm, because the Captain had pronounced the weather 'not hardly that bad, Pang-ye, don't fret so much'.

"Aye, so it is!" His captain answers, like Pangzi has asked if it's sunset. Then Hei Xiazi takes off his hat, rearranges his eye patch from his right eye (also functional??) to his left, puts his hat back on, and turns back to watching the sea. "What did you need me for?"

If his captain wishes to act like nothing happened, then who is Pangzi to argue? He'd like to keep his skin in one piece, thanks. "Err, I came to relieve you Captain- Cook says assumin' no more storms surprise her dinner'll be ready soon."

"Great!" The captain pronounced, and passed his spy glass to Pangzi, and with it the shift. Pangzi quickly snuck a look through the glass, but all seemed perfectly ordinary. "All this sea-staring makes a man hungry, huh?"

Pangzi couldn't help but wonder if that sea-staring might not be less hungry work without the eye-patch, but he's not fool enough to voice that to his captain.

Thank you for the request! I have not yet received any heihua requests so I may take you up on the second part as well 🌸 but I'll get some other requests filled first for now^^

Send me an ask with a pairing and an AU and I'll write you a ficlet!

[humanpurposes]

Karma is a God

Chapter 4: King’s Landing

The Dance of the Dragons begins on a lie, and Aemond owes a debt, one Lucerra will see repaid in Fire and Blood // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of violence and death, greif/mourning, angst.

Words: 4700

A/n: Originally posted on AO3, posting to Tumblr before I get back to regular updates.

Vhagar lands on a stretch of shore along the Blackwater. He cannot say what the hour is, only that it is certainly later than he was supposed to return.

He had watched the sunset over Shipbreaker Bay and lingered longer than that. Now the sky is black and the moon shines like the sun, bathing the beach in a low and ghostly light.

Only when the dragon settles can he finally hear his breath, even through the breeze sweeping in unbroken from the sea. His gloved hands are still tight on the reins, but there’s something else bunched in his grip. Red fabric, dark and damp, soaked with seawater and rain.

He wonders if his hands are still his, numb and trembling with cold and… had he truly kept hold of it all this way?

He almost loses his grip as he climbs down from the saddle but keeps the cloak firmly in his grasp. His boots meet the sand and his knees go weak. For a moment he thinks his legs won’t take the weight, but he stands.

Vhagar has left them roughly half a mile from the Red Keep, he concludes, with consideration for the defect of his vision. The castle is little more than a darkened silhouette, so his eye is drawn to the little glimmers of candlelight glowing through the windows. It almost looks peaceful from here, and that feels like a lie. 

He looks down at his fist. Some of the fabric has fallen and trails along the sand. He had spent hours searching for a body, and this was all he could find of her.

His stomach drops and he reaches out for the ropes hanging down from the saddle to steady himself. Vhagar gives a slight grumble, likely eager to skulk off and find food. He does not move, keeping himself there as if anchored to her. 

But he cannot stay here forever. His family will be expecting news of Storm’s End.

His grandfather will be furious, his mother will never forgive him and Helaena… Helaena might never look at him again.

He begins his march along the beach, to the passageway below the castle and through the deserted halls. Every step feels wrong. His riding leathers are sodden and his eyepatch is loose from the flight, but he does nothing to adjust it. He keeps his head hung and his grip on the cloak tight, until he reaches the entrance hall.

Ser Arryk stands to meet him. “My Prince, the King awaits your arrival in the small council chamber.”

“Have the Lords also been summoned?”

“Yes, my Prince, and the Dowager Queen.”

Aemond’s gaze falls to the knight’s boots. He gives a distant hum in response. 

Aegon sits at the table with the crown of the conqueror on his head. Considering he had to be dragged from the streets of King’s Landing to be crowned, his brother has settled rather comfortably into his throne. He does not have the presence of a King, the mind nor the strength, but in a few short days he has found the pride of one.

Their mother stands over his left shoulder, and Criston Cole over his right, while Otto Hightower sits in his usual place, face as grim and grave as ever. The other Lords sit along the left, Jasper Wylde, Maester Orwyle, and Tyland Lannister. The space once held by Lord Beesbury is still empty. 

“Brother,” Aegon says. His voice is bright but his eyes are dark. “You look awful–”

“What news of Storm’s End?” Otto interrupts.

Aemond realises he is frozen in the doorway, but he can’t convince his legs to walk any further.

Why couldn’t he have just stayed on the beach?

Why couldn’t he have just let her go?

“Lord Borros has pledged to support your claim,” he mutters, “and I in turn have agreed to marry Floris Baratheon.”

“The prettiest of the four storms, so I hear,” Aegon grins. “Baratheon blood is strong if our nephews and niece are anything to go by. I wonder, shall your brood have hair as dark as their cousins?”

Aemond does not reply and his expression does not flinch.

“We received word from the Maester at Storm’s End,” his grandfather says, “that Princess Lucerra was attempting to treat with Lord Borros on her mother’s behalf.”

Aemond furrows his brows and swallows the lump building in his throat. “Indeed, she arrived not long after I did.”

“And her efforts were unsuccessful?”

A sharp pain strikes his chest. Until this moment he’s been fooling himself, allowing himself a glimmer of hope that if he says nothing it cannot be true. His lips remain tight, his hands in fists by his side. He is stalling and every pair of eyes in the room can see it.

His mother’s gaze falls to the cloak spilling from his grip. “Aemond…” He is used to seeing this melancholic look in her eyes, but there’s a new spark of fear in her. She catches her lower lip between her teeth as she starts to pick at her nails. He wonders if she even realises she’s doing it. “Their Maester he…” 

Otto Hightower’s patience is wearing thin. “It is said you threatened the Princess.”

Aemond forces a small hum from his throat, but there are no words that follow.

He can see it all before his waking eyes, the flash of fire and Vhagar’s reins around his hands as he tried to deter her attack. As her jaws closed around Arrax’s body with an ear-splitting crunch he had tasted blood, and it is still faint on his tongue.

“Speak, boy,” the Hand demands in a tone usually reserved for Aegon, “we must know the whole truth.” 

The whole truth.

The truth is he liked having her at his mercy. 

The truth is he had felt a strange sort of elation when she entered the Round Hall. The Gods must have designed such a coincidence. His pretty little bastard niece, with a message in her hand and a blade on her hip, while the fate of the Kingdom hung in the balance.

The whole truth. 

The truth is he had felt Vhagar’s bloodlust surging through his veins, and had been powerless to stop it.

And what kind of a man does that make him?

“I killed her.”

The room was quiet before. Now it is a void of sound. The silence throbs in his ears as his eye falls to his brother. Aegon stares back, his eyes wide enough to border on mania. 

“What?”

“I pursued her as she left the castle. Vhagar tore Arrax to pieces and she fell.”

His grandfather’s voice is like gravel, low and scathing. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

He feels everything and somehow nothing. “She owed a debt–”

“And you have taken far more than you were owed!” Otto bellows, standing from his seat. “You only lost one eye at her hand, how could you be so blind?”

“No, this is a victory!” Aegon insists. His eyes stay on Aemond and he nods. “We shall celebrate my brother’s triumph, his first taste of a true battle.” Then he turns to Otto, assured but with an understated venom to his words. “It is what you have always wanted, is it not, grandfather?”

“You fools! Rhaenyra might have accepted terms of peace, but now… now she will be out for blood.”

At the sound of a muffled sob Aemond looks to his mother. She has her head in her hands. “Mother have mercy on us all.”

When he returns to his chambers the first thing to come off is the eyepatch, then he sheds his boots and his riding leathers. He keeps Lucerra’s cloak bunched in his hands, but when he turns towards the bathtub he supposes he must part with it. He places it over an armchair by the fire to dry.

His servant assures him the water is tepid, but his skin burns and his core shivers. 

Of the Princelings and Princesses of the Red Keep, Luke had the widest smile, the most obnoxious laugh, the quickest temper and the brightest presence.

She had a habit of finding him when he didn’t want to be found, trailing him through the gardens, barging into his chambers and perching at his feet like a puppy begging for attention. On the occasions of feasts and celebrations, he would have been happy enough to fade into the background, but she would snatch his arm and drag him to the dancefloor with a smug grin on her lips.

He found no solitude in the library either. He always sat at the same desk, by a window overlooking the bay. She would not be far behind, placing her chin on his shoulder and hanging her arms over his front so he had to read through her hair.

She was so relentless with her questions. “Why did Aegon forge the Iron Throne? Why did Maegor have so many wives? Why do we have dragons?”

“It is our birthright,” he said to the latter, “as the blood of Valyria, as Targaryens.”

“But you do not have a dragon.”

“No.”

“Why?”

For that he had no answer. He had born with the title of ‘Prince’, the name ‘Targaryen’ and the silver hair and violet eyes of Old Valyria but he could not claim their greatest birthright. While she and her brothers, dark-haired and Strong, had each hatched their eggs.

She leaned in to press a small pillowy cheek against his. “When Arrax is large enough, you can ride with me.”

If only they could have been children forever.

He has not known a moment of peace since Driftmark and it is all because of her. He has felt her, with every sudden strike of pain in his head, with every whisper of “monster” and “one-eye”. Even his own reflection is a reminder of that night.

Six years he waited. And when he heard news that Rhaenyra was returning to the Red Keep to stake her son’s claim to Driftmark, he took to the skies on Vhagar, circling over the Kingswood for hours, untouchable and undistracted.

He dreamed of slashing out her eye, carving out her heart and leaving her to be found somewhere in a quiet corridor of the castle in a pool of her own blood. A drastic fantasy, one he had no intentions of fulfilling unless he wanted to lose his head. Of course, Lucerra could get away with maiming the King’s son, but his father would not be so merciful to him.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting. They had been children when they last met, and his last look of her had hardly been with much fondness.

He had spotted Jace first, his face indisputably resembling Ser Harwin Strong from brow to chin, though lacking his natural father’s build. It was hard to believe he possessed a single drop of his mother’s blood. But Lucerra, despite the dark curls falling around her shoulders and those wide brown eyes, was nothing less than Rhaenyra Targaryen’s daughter, made only more apparent with maturity. She had the same deep set eyes, the same nose, the same stern and solemn gaze. Yet her beauty was less severe than her mother’s, in the round of her cheeks, her soft jaw, the slight fullness in her lower lip.

He couldn’t stop looking, and neither could she. Perhaps it was out of guilt, or fear, but whatever it was he decided he liked it.

When Aegon had dragged him to the Street of Silk those years ago, he had felt nothing short of repulsed. When he had indulged a few of the Ladies of the court, he felt unimpressed and underwhelmed. For a while he thought there was something (else) wrong with him, that where his brother seemed to think of nothing but fucking whores and harassing serving girls, his mind was elsewhere.

But he felt it in her presence, as her eyes met his across the table, as he followed her from the dining hall like a shadow and held her body against the wall, the want he had been waiting for. He had expected her mouth to taste bitter, but she had tasted sweet, like a promise of victory. He didn’t understand it, the heat and exhilaration as his hands roamed her body, as she sighed breathlessly against his ear, all too eager to right her past wrongs, chasing her high under his touch.

“I do not want him to hate me,” she said. 

That’s not how it was supposed to be. 

Six years of anguish, what had it all been for? Reeling in his bed at bouts of pain that even milk of the poppy could not sedate. The humiliation of misjudging his own vision when undertaking even the most mundane of tasks. All the hours he had endured his mother’s pity as she buried her face in his hair and wept. All the stares. All the whispers. All because of a doe-eyed and vicious little Princess.

“I hate her,” he would whisper, to his pillow, to the fire, to the images of the Seven, to the skies and beyond, “I hate her. I hate her.”

Even if he tried, he knows he cannot bring himself to say those words now.

And what was it all for if he cannot hate her?

Trembling fingers absentmindedly trace his scar. It is hers as much as it is his, a mark of her cruelty, her impulsivity, just her.

He slips below the surface of the water. He holds his breath until his heart pounds in his head and his lungs burn. His body betrays him. His mouth opens for a sharp intake of water and only then does he force himself up, choking and coughing violently as his lungs dispel the intrusion.

He hardly sleeps. By the time he closes his eyes it is dawn and his servant returns with a plate of cured meats and the news that the King means to hold a feast in his honour.

He does his duty. When he goes to greet his mother she turns her head and pretends not to hear him. When he looks to Helaena her eyes are fixed on her empty plate. She mutters to herself, her usual riddles, the kind he supposes he will never decipher. So he takes his place beside his brother. He does not speak and does not touch the platters of food laid out before him.

The rest of the hall is hesitant to indulge the King’s wishes for revelry. The conversations are hushed, the music quiet, and no one dares to make a step for the dancefloor. 

Aegon leans over him and Aemond winces at the sour stench of wine on his breath. “You needn’t look so glum,” he says, “you have made a triumphant start for us.”

Having his brother’s approval feels like an insult, but he is the only person who has spoken a word to him since his return, the only member of his family who will look him in the eye.

Time doesn’t make sense anymore. Hours feel like weeks and days are mere moments as they slip by. 

It is uncertain how quickly word will spread or when the news will finally reach Dragonstone, but when it does war will follow. Their allies are few but enough to secure power. Aegon is the anointed King, his rule will not be undone so long as they hold the capital. That is all they need. An attack on King’s Landing is unlikely, not with Vhagar defending it. 

One morning he finds himself heading for Helaena’s chambers. He used to visit her and the children each morning. Now, when he goes to her, he finds he has little to say.

Their relationship has often been one of few words. Since childhood they have been happy to sit in a comfortable silence as she sews and he reads, to walk arm in arm through the gardens, to ride Vhagar and Dreamfyre side by side over the Blackwater. Other times one speaks and the other listens; she enthuses over her studies of small creatures, and he recites passages of history.

She’s pacing the room, bouncing little Maelor in her arms and the babe happily gurgles back. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on the floor, admiring little wooden dragons painted in the image of their parents’ mounts, one gold for Synfyre, the other blue for Dreamfyre.

His presence seems to cast a shadow. Helaena pauses and turns to face him. He scarcely recognises her of late. She looks tired, her pale blue eyes duller and narrower than they should be.

“Helaena-”

“Come children,” she says with her usual sweetness, ushering the twins back to the nursery. His heart shatters at the way she clutches Maelor, turning him into herself, away from danger, away from him.

“Sister, you know I would never-”

“Never what?” She asks sharply. 

He clenches his jaw when he notices the tears falling down her face.

She looks into the fireplace as she presses her lips to Maelor’s head. The boy squirms and she gently rocks him into a settled stillness. “We might have escaped this,” she whispers, “but now…”

His sister’s despair is the heaviest burden of all. “I can protect you,” he says. “I will protect you.”

Helaena shakes her head, eyes fixed on the flames. “Bonds of blood are so easily forgotten, and yet never forgiven.” 

When he is not by Aegon’s side in meetings of the Small Council, Aemond lingers in his chambers. One night he perches on the end of his bed, glaring down at his eyepatch as he twists it around his fingers. The red cloak remains where he left it a fortnight ago.

The Blacks are mobilising. Daemon has taken Harrenhal and Jacaerys has flown North after leaving the Eyrie. Surely he has gone to Winterfell, to secure an alliance with Lord Stark. If that is true, they cannot hope to match their enemies by numbers, but he and Aegon are hardly concerned, for what is an army of unruly Northmen to the Queen of dragons?

There is little news of the would-be-Queen on Dragonstone. Rhaneyra lost the child she had been carrying the day she learned of Viserys’ death, the very same day Aegon was crowned at the Dragon Pit before the masses of King’s Landing. It is said, as she stood before the funeral pyre, a knight of the kingsguard presented her with the crown of King Jaehaerys. 

His eye drifts up to Lucerra’s cloak.

Rhaenyra must surely know by now.

He vaguely becomes aware of a distant clattering of armour before the door bursts open and Ser Criston enters unannounced. He lingers in the door, panting for breath.

The eyepatch falls to the floor as Aemond darts to his feet with an alertness he has not felt for weeks.

Cole’s skin is pale. “The Queen…”

“Which Queen?” He demands.

“You must come with me, my Prince.”

They hurry through the Holdfast, Aemond holds his breath until they walk past the corridor that would lead them to Helaena’s bedchamber. At least his sister is safe.

He follows Cole across the drawbridge, towards the Tower of the Hand. He prepares himself for an endless number of possibilities. His mother may be injured, or ill. She may be dead.

He hears a woman’s screams before they reach the door. 

A crowd has gathered outside Queen Alicent’s chambers, guards, servants, curious Lords demanding to know what has transpired within while the remaining Kingsguard attempt to maintain some order.

And then he realises, it is not his mother who is screaming.

Aemond’s heart stops. “Helaena?”

Cole places a hand on the door and pauses. His face melts into a mournful frown. “I am so sorry-”

Aemond’s patience snaps. He barges the door open and storms inside. 

The tang of death is thick in the air.

His sister is kneeling in a pool of blood on the floor, screams tearing through her throat, occasionally broken by sobs and gasps for air. She is pawing at two, small, headless bodies.

Aegon hunches over her, tears streaming down his face as he tries to pull her away. “Let them go,” he begs her, “please, Hel, just let them go.”

It does not cease her screams. She flinches at his touch and pushes him away.

Their mother stands to the side of the room, crying too, her face twisted and red. She cradles Maelor in her arms, keeping his head between her shoulder and her neck as the boy shrieks and wails for a mother who cannot hear him.

Aegon looks up to him. His face is hollow and writhing at the horror before him. Aemond has never seen his brother so broken.

His mother says there were two of them, that they came into her chambers through a passage within the walls, and bound her. They waited for Helaena and the children. They said they were debt collectors, come to claim the lives of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera for the loss of Visenya and Lucerra.

He leads the hunt for the perpetrators himself. He has to. He cannot bear the wait, cannot bear to be within the same walls while his family grieves.

They find one at the city gates with the twins’ heads in a sack. He confesses he had been heading for Harrenhal, to collect his payment from Prince Daemon. Aemond ensures he dies screaming, in all the pain he imagines his niece and nephew suffered and more.

The other, a ratcatcher, according to the other man, cannot be found, no matter how he searches, no matter who he questions, no matter how many orders he bellows to the men of the City Watch. Instead he demands that all the city’s ratcatchers be hanged.

It is not enough. The damage has been done.

Aemond stands behind his family when they burn the bodies.

In the years since their marriage, he has never known his siblings to harbour any love outside of their marital duty. Now, as they stand before the funeral pyre, Aegon has his arm over Helaena’s shoulder and she leans into him. Their mother stands on Helaena’s other side, their hands clenched tightly together. 

Even their dragons have gathered. Shrykos and Morghul have come to mourn their bound souls, while Dreamfyre watches the scene a little further away, cooing a wounded song.

At Aegon’s order, Sunfyre crawls forwards. “Dracarys.” He chokes as he says it, and the little Prince and Princess are claimed by golden flames.

The blazing heat is intense but the surface of his skin still feels cold. He had overheard his mother saying something about the twins being bound in death as they were in life. What will it matter? He thinks. They are still dead.

When he retires to his chambers he lays out on the bed. He knows sleep will bring him no comfort, so he basks in the silence, the isolation, the awareness of his breath and the pounding of his heart.

And then his mind starts to slip. He sees Luke’s eyes burning with a curious fury across the hall of Storm’s End and the stubborn pout of her lips…

Then he feels her fading into him, her hands on either side of his jaw as she kissed him, her arms around his shoulders, his lips on her skin as she whimpered his name…

He slips further. He sees a storm. He sees her cloak billowing behind her as she falls. He tastes blood. In the distance, someone cries her name…

He wakes to a rumbling in his throat and his own cries echoing through the chamber.

After that he does what he can to dispel sleep. He whispers Valyrain poetry to himself, counts every individual scale on Vhagar’s hide from memory, thinks through games of cyvasse in his head, but nothing works for long. 

He keeps slipping back to her.

There is one horror that might spare his mind from the image of Lucerra, made all the more tangible when he can hear his sister’s screams and sobs echoing through the Holdfast. 

So he lies there, drifting between consciousness and tormented sleep, tears falling effortlessly down his face. He wants it to stop. He wants to tear his other eye from his face, pull his hair out from the root, scratch at his skin until there is nothing left but blood. But he does not. 

Three lives lost because of him, and how devastatingly simple the exchange had been.

At the behest of their mother, Aemond visits his brother at the same hour each day.

He finds what he has come to expect, newly replaced furnishings slashed and upturned, glass cups and mirrors shattered to fragments, books previously untouched torn to shreds and littered about the floor. Aegon is curled into a corner with his back against the wall, his mouth stained purple and his eyes red. Blackfyre is discarded at his side.

Aemond settles beside him. He reaches for an empty pitcher of wine and stands it upright. An attempt at restoring some semblance of normalcy.

“I failed them,” his brother whispers.

“They did not die by your hand,” Aemond replies.

“I should have protected them. What kind of father does not protect his own children?”

“Brother, if there can be blame, it should be my burden alone to bear. Had I simply done what was asked of me…” but he cannot finish. It’s like he’s drowning, a coldness washing over him in unrelenting waves as his very throat works against him. 

“No,” Aegon whispers. His lips start to twist into a snarl, bearing his teeth like a feral animal. “Justice comes due. That bastard slashed out your fucking eye and our father did nothing.”

The memory is still as clear as it had been in the moment. The stitches in his wound had hardly been sewn, accusations and demands flew through the air, and through it all the King- his father, had hardly looked at him. When he finally did there were no words of comfort, no remorse, just the desperate fury of a weak, old man. 

Just like that, he had felt his childish naivety slip between his fingers like smoke. It had been a cruel realisation.

Aemond had often thought he knew why their father had never been particularly impressed with his children after Rhaenyra. Aegon, a wasteful, Helaena, a dreamer, Daeron, a squire of Oldtown, and he, broken, and dragonless before that. But then he supposed, they had not always been the way they were. They were babes once, blissfully oblivious to the darkness of the world they had been born into. 

“Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were children,” he mutters, “they did not deserve to be dragged into this war.”

“I offered Rhaenyra peace and now she has taken my heir and my only daughter. They died afraid, not knowing if-” he lets out a startled sob and holds it back as quickly as it came. He looks down at his hands, stroking a finger over a ruby set in gold, one of the endless heirlooms he had been bestowed upon Viserys’ death. “I don’t think I ever told them I loved them.”

A thousand memories flash before his eye. Aemond had been there when they babbled their first words, caught Jaehaera into his arms when she took her very first steps, carried Jaehaerys on his shoulders when he was too tired to make the walk back to the castle from the beach…

Aemond’s lips curl under his teeth to bite down at the flesh of his mouth. He has always thought of the children as being Helaena’s rather than Aegon’s. Jaehaerys, quiet and unsure, and sweet little Jaehaera, wistful and dreamy, a little more daring than her twin. 

Aegon has spent most of his life fleeing from duty, and fatherhood is no exception.

He hesitates for a few moments, and gently places a hand over his. Aegon flinches at first, but settles at the touch.

“I will never be able to make things right,” Aegon says.

A dull yet familiar pain appears in Aemond’s skull, somewhere behind the sapphire in his socket. “We might yet,” he says. “If Rhaenyra wants a war, if she wants this to fall to fire and blood, then by the gods we will grant her this.”

Tags: @randomdragonfires @boundlessfantasy @toodlesxcuddles

[rainisawriter]

The Sun & Moon – Bernie (PSF #6)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, angst, halloween

Prompt: Corn Maze (@flufftober)

Word Count: 6,105

Pairing: Reader x Bernie

World: High&Low

Warning: Spider warning ⚠️ for my arachnophobic brothers and sisters.

A/N: This fic started my “hopelessly in love with Ice” phase *sobs

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Babe!” Bernie threw his arms around you from behind, a bright grin on his face. “Guess what.”

You hummed, leaning into his hold. “Do you actually want me to guess or is it rhetorical?” 

“Guess.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You finally decided that it’s time to get a pet cat.”

He groaned at the guess, pulling away with a pout. “Not even close.”

The subject of getting a cat had come up on more than a few occasions. You absolutely adored cats and wanted one desperately. Your boyfriend was a bit harder to convince than you had originally anticipated.

It’s not that Bernie didn’t like cats, he just didn’t trust them around his things. Every time he considered getting a cat, he would picture his designer clothes covered in fur or his albums being destroyed. He had worked hard to earn the things he had and he would be damned before he let an animal ruin them.

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter. “Tell me.”

“A celebrity hired the Mighty Warriors to perform at his Halloween party!” He grinned, excitement dancing in his eyes. “We got to see the mansion before taking the job and it’s huge. He even has a corn maze set up out back.”

“That’s great, Bernie. I’m proud of you,” you offered him a genuine smile, taking his hand in yours. “I hope you have fun.”

“You’re coming with me, idiot~” He sang, bringing you closer so he could give you a peck on the lips.

Your brow furrowed, body tensing. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“You have to go,” he pleaded. “You’ve never seen us perform before and I even remixed one of your favorite songs for the party.”

“Which one?”

“It’s a secret! You’ll only know if you come with me.”

“Can I have a hint?”

He hummed, a smirk on his lips. “I don’t know. Do you deserve a hint?”

You knew what he wanted and you chuckled, pulling him closer until your lips met his, dancing in a slow, passionate embrace that left you both breathless. “Happy?”

“When I’m with you? Always,” he breathed out, rubbing your side with his thumb. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint. It’s a Bad Omens song.”

Your eyes lit up, excitement filling you. “Really? Ah, but that doesn’t narrow it down at all. They have so many good songs!”

Bernie nodded in agreement, feeling pride settle in his chest when he saw how happy you looked. “You gotta come with me to find out.”

You bit your lip, knowing you were going to regret this. “Okay.”

“Yes!” He threw his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you in circles until both of you were dizzy. Laughter filled the room as he stumbled into the counter. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too. More than anything else in this world.” You cupped his face, bringing your lips to his once more.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You watched Bernie as he walked up and down the seemingly endless aisles in the Halloween store, muttering under his breath as he searched for the perfect costume. This was going to be your first Halloween together and he wanted it to be perfect. That started with the perfect costume, but he was struggling to choose a good one.

To him, they were either too gaudy or just downright ugly. Most of them were skimpy, too, which he had no intention of wearing or letting you wear. A vampire, perhaps? No, that was far too basic. Pirates, maybe? It was another basic choice, though he was confident he could rock that eyepatch.

Peanut butter and jelly couple costume? Dumb.

Ghostface was cool, but then you wouldn’t be able to see his beautiful face and he couldn’t see yours.

Hogwarts uniforms would look cool, but he knew it was a popular choice.

Could he convince you to go as a Mortal Kombat character? He doubted it since you weren’t fond of fighting games.

He figured he might be able to convince you to go for Apex Legends, but the store had no costumes for the game.

Bernie scowled, removing his hat so he could run a hand through his hair. “Baby, what if we -” he paused when he realized you were no longer following him. “Babe?”

You had wandered off to the opposite end of the store, hands buried in your pockets as you looked at all of the costumes on display. There were hundreds of them lining the walls, from floor to ceiling. Most of them looked pretty cool, though there were a few that were questionable. 

You loved SpongeBob as much as the next mostly functioning adult, but an inflatable SpongeBob costume? You couldn’t be paid to wear that. Just the thought of how hot it must be inside that thing made you uncomfortable.

Arms wrapped around your waist from.behind, the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne filling your nose as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Did you find anything, baby?”

“Nothing that really stands out,” you commented, leaning your head back to get a better look at the costumes at the top of the wall. “You?”

“Nope,” he frowned. “I don’t remember it being this hard to choose a good costume.”

“It’s always been hard for me. Way too many choices.”

“It’s a good and bad thing. I’m determined, though. I’ll stay here for a week if that’s what it takes.”

You laughed at the comment. “I’m pretty sure this store isn’t open 24/7.”

“You’d be surprised what people are willing to become for the right price,” he grinned.

You were about to retort when a costume caught your eye. “Can I suggest one?”

“Of course! You don’t even have to ask.” He released you, giving you an expectant look. “Lay it on me.”

“Would you consider… Harley Quinn and the Joker from Suicide Squad?” You glanced at him hopefully and he frowned.

“Are you sure? Harley’s outfit is pretty revealing…” Bernie didn’t consider him to be a jealous man, but he also didn’t like people staring at you, especially knowing that you didn’t like attention.

“I was thinking I could modify it to be more personal, ya know? I thought I could wear basketball shorts since they’re longer and if I get a bigger sized costume, the shirt will be baggy…” you thought about it for a moment, trying to picture it in your head. “Ah, I guess that would be weird, though… nevermind, we can keep looking.”

Bernie grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away, tugging you closer. “You’re going to be the most beautiful Harley Quinn in the world. Everyone’s gonna be jealous of your originality.”

You knew he was full of shit but it brought a smile to your face anyway. “Thank you.”

“I’m getting excited,” he grinned. “This is going to be the best Halloween of our lives. I promise.”

“As long as you’re there,” you started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing else matters.”

He pouted, hands finding their place on your waist. “You always take the cool lines. You’re supposed to share in a relationship, ya know.”

You laughed, patting his cheek. “You can have the next one.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You were filled with nervousness as you stood outside the large mansion where the party was taking place. Loud music filled the night air, accented by the laughter and cheers of the crowd. There were people everywhere, filling the house and surrounding the underground pool that sat on the right side of the property.

It wasn’t the people that had you on edge, though, it was Bernie’s friends – the Mighty Warriors.

They hated you and rightfully so. To them, you were the enemy because you were part of Sannoh and best friends with Murayama. They didn’t trust you at all and fully believed that you were using Bernie. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t know who we has when you first met. It didn’t matter that you fell in love with him before discovering who he hung out with.

When he was around, the members either completely ignored you or attempted to kill you with kindness that was so fake, it made you feel ill. On the rare occasion when you were left alone with them, they didn’t hold back, cutting into you with insults and threats and dirty looks.

Maybe you should have told your boyfriend this, but you didn’t want to cause problems. They were his family, his best friends, the people that were there for him when no one else was. If you ended up being the reason that he lost them… you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.

So, you accepted their abuse. You didn’t see them that often so you knew you could handle it. You would be nice to them even when they weren’t nice to you because you were doing it for Bernie. 

Taking a deep breath, you headed up the stone path and into the house, squeezing through the throngs of people in search of your boyfriend. You found him in the kitchen, speaking with Pearl as he poured himself a drink. He looked absolutely gorgeous as the Joker and you found yourself staring at his exposed chest for longer than intended.

“Like what you see, baby?” Bernie wiggled his brows at you, a smirk on his lips.

“You look amazing,” you complimented with a smile, well aware of Pearl staring at you.

“You do too~” He pecked your lips. “Want a drink?”

“Maybe later.”

Pearl folded his arms over his chest, looking you up and down. “When did Harley Quinn wear that?”

You shifted uncomfortably, forcing a smile. “I wanted to customize the look. Make it unique, you know?”

“Ah.” His lips pursed, clearly biting back whatever mean comment that lingered on his tongue. “We should get ready, Bernie. We’re performing soon.”

“Right, right.” Bernie pecked your cheek, giving you a loving smile. “Enjoy the party, baby. You better watch us when we take the stage.”

“You know I will. Good luck.”

Pearl rolled his eyes. “We don’t need luck. We have talent.”

Your smile faltered as you nodded. “Yeah… you’re right.”

He scoffed, turning his back to you as he left the kitchen, Bernie close behind.

You made your way outside where the stage had been set up. You hung out near the back, close to the house as you watched your boyfriend get on stage, taking up his place at the DJ booth. Ice, Pearl and Nine walked around the stage, hyping up the crowd before beginning their set.

Bernie searched the crowd for you, a bright smile coming to his lips when his gaze met yours. You smiled back, forming a heart with your hands. He pretended to catch it, pressing it against his chest with a wink that had you giggling. 

‘What a dork,’ you thought lovingly. ‘My beautiful little dork.’

Halfway through the set, you felt a looming presence beside you and your body tensed up. Pho was beside you, easily towering over you due to his large size. Although you felt weary around all of the Mighty Warriors crew, Pho and Jesse were especially terrifying to you. They were much crueler than the other members and you knew they had spent time in prison.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on your boyfriend who always provided you comfort even in the most stressful of situations. He wasn’t looking at you, though, focused on the music he was creating.

“Bernie prepared something for you,” stated Pho, right next to your ear so he could be heard over the music.

You shifted nervously, forcing a smile. “Yeah, he told me. I’m excited to hear the song.”

Pho resisted the urge to roll his eyes, giving you a deadpan look. “He prepared something else for you.”

“Oh? He… didn’t mention that.”

“Supposed to be a surprise. He wanted me to bring you to it.”

“I… shouldn’t we wait for him to finish?” You looked at Bernie nervously, wishing he would look up but he didn’t. 

“He wanted you to see it while he’s on stage. Said he would be too embarrassed if he was there.”

That didn’t sound like your boyfriend at all. Bernie was a dork but he was a confident dork. You didn’t even think embarrassed was in his dictionary. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, fear gripping your heart as you scrambled for an excuse to not go with this man.

“I… I don’t…”

His large hand came down on your shoulder, squeezing hard. “We should go before he gets to your song.”

It wasn’t a request, you knew, as he started to steer you back inside. You should have screamed, pushed him away and ran, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. He hadn’t done anything wrong, either, and you knew they would spin it as if you were overreacting.

The Mighty Warriors were nothing if not cunning.

He led you toward the back right of the mansion, stopping in front of a white wooden door at the end of the hall. “Go on. Your surprise is waiting.”

You swallowed hard, lifting a shaking hand to the knob. Goosebumps rose across your skin when your fingers wrapped around  the cold metal, but you doubted it was the cause. A feeling of dread had settled in the pit of your stomach, growing with each minute that passed. The door clicked when the knob was fully turned, the hinges creaking as you pushed it open.

It was a clean looking bedroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What -“

Pho shoved you hard and you stumbled forward, only staying on your feet because you managed to reach the desk opposite the door. You whipped around, heart sinking to your stomach.

Jesse was standing behind the door, a smirk on his lips as he pushed the door closed, flicking the lock. “Hey, there. I was hoping Bernie would bring you.”

You pressed yourself back against the desk as far as you could, fingers gripping the wood. “W-What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“I don’t trust you,” he replied simply, taking slow, small steps toward you. “And I don’t like you.”

“I’m not a spy!” You snapped, hating how your voice shook.

He quirked a brow, head tilred to the side. “I didn’t say you were. Sounds like you have a guilty conscious, hm?”

You sputtered, trying to find the right words to explain yourself. He may not have said it, but the others have multiple times.

“You may have fooled Bernie, but you can’t fool me. I can see right through you.” He pointed a finger at me, dark eyes glinting dangerously despite the playful smirk on his lips. “It’s time I teach you a lesson. Scare you so fucking bad that you won’t ever go back to Sannoh.”

“Don’t do this,” you begged, even though you weren’t sure what he had planned for you.

He hummed, tapping his chin in false thought. “Nah, I think you need this. You’re dumb, but you’re not that dumb. You know that you’re either part of Mighty Warriors or you’re against us. It’s not complicated to understand.”

Your eyes followed him as he slowly made his way to the left side of the room. There was something square sitting atop a large table, covered by a black sheet.

“So tell me. If you truly love Bernie, wouldn’t you leave Sannoh and join the Mighty Warriors?” He quirked a brow at you, fingers curling around the end of the sheet. “If you ask me, it sounds like you have commitment issues.”

“I didn’t ask you,” you spat, the anger swirling with the fear as the two fought for dominance within you. “Our relationship is between him and I. What you think doesn’t mean anything.”

“Wow, you really are dumb. Can’t you see how he’s suffering?”

That caught you off guard. “I – huh?”

He clicked his tongue, giving you a pitying look. “Do you know how many times he’s come to us, scared that you don’t love him simply because you stay with Sannoh? He’s asked you before, hasn’t he? To join us.”

Your lips parted but no sound escaped. Bernie had, in fact, asked you on multiple occasions to join the Mighty Warriors. That had been at the beginning of your relationship, though, and he hadn’t mentioned it since Sword had its big battle against Kuryu.

Had you been causing your boyfriend to question your feelings this whole time? The thought made your heart ache.

“So, for making one of our members suffer, you have to pay. It’s only fair, right?” He paused in thought for a moment. “Of course, if you leave Sannoh now and pledge your loyalty to us, I might reconsider.”

You knew you could never do that. Sannoh was your family just as the Mighty Warriors were Bernie’s. Though not related by blood, Cobra was your brother, the person who had always been there for you no matter what. 

Even when he found out about your relationship, he eventually came around and supported you because he knew how much you loved Bernie. As long as you were happy and safe, he could accept it.

You could never turn your back on them. Did that really mean you were betraying your boyfriend?

Jesse clicked his tongue. “How disappointing.”

With a sharp tug, the sheet slid off, falling to the ground in a pool. Your eyes widened as fear gripped your heart. You scrambled back to the other side of the room, trying to get as far away from the table as possible.

Sitting atop the table was a large glass tank, inside which was dozens and dozens of black spiders in varying sizes. You were terrified of spiders, to the point where you could barely look at them without wanting to cry.

“P-Please,” you begged, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the chair beside you, unable to even look in that direction.

Jesse snickered at your fear, pulling the lid off the top of the tank. “Last chance~ Are you gonna leave Sannoh?”

“I-I can’t!”

“What a shame.” He gripped both ends of the tank, lifting it up off the table. With a wicked grin, he flung the tank forward without letting it go, sending the spiders flying through the air toward you.

An ear piercing scream ripped from your throat as you dropped to the floor assuming the fetal position with your arms covering your head. Your body trembled, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Please please please,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry just please take them away! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Jesse laughed, amused by what he believed to be an overreaction. “Let’s make a deal, then. Break up with Bernie and I’ll let you go.”

You shook your head, fingers curling around the ring hanging from your neck. It had been Bernie’s ring, given to him by his grandmother when he was a small child. He had entrusted it to you, promising to always be with you and love you forever. 

His eyes narrowed at you, growing annoyed that you were refusing to break despite the intense fear and stress that you were currently experiencing. He grabbed a large spider off the ground, stepping closer to you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until you felt something crawling across your arm.

You screamed again, flailing your arm wildly to get the creature off of you. Jesse didn’t move in time, your hand hitting him hard across the face. You were so consumed by fear that you didn’t even notice it had happened. You kicked your feet against the ground, trying to press yourself farther into the dresser as the hoard of spiders slowly made their way across the tan carpet toward you.

Jesse’s eyes flashed with anger, nostrils flaring as he grabbed you by the back of your hair, squeezing hard until you cried out in pain. He grabbed the largest spider, bringing it toward your face.

“P-Please, stop!” You sobbed, vision blurred by tears. “P-Please, J-Jesse!”

“Break up with Bernie or you’re gonna be making out with this spider. I hear his venom is quite potent.”

You trembled beneath his grip, squeezing your eyes shut so you couldn’t see the spider getting closer. When you felt the tips of its hairy legs touch your nose, you cried out, “Fine, fine! I’ll break up with Bernie just please, please let me go!”

The door had been flung open as you said this, Bernie standing there in shock. Anger flared through him when he saw the state of you and the words registered in his brain. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He rushed over to you, shoving Jesse away before kneeling in front of you. “Baby, it’s okay. I’m here, I -“

When he tried to wrap his arms around you, you shoved him away, shaking your head.

Hurt flashed through his eyes but he pushed it away, more concerned about calming you down. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

“No,” you sobbed, hugging yourself tightly as you continued to tremble. “I’ll never… never be s-safe with you.”

“What? That’s not true-“

“I’m s-sorry, I… I can’t d-do this anymore!” You tugged hard on the ring, breaking the chain before shoving it against his chest. Before he could reply, you stood up and ran, jumping over the bed to avoid the disgusting creatures on the floor.

He cried out your name, heart clenching painfully within his chest as he chased after you. “Please, wait!”

You urged your legs to run faster, shoving through the crowd until you broke out into the cool night, nearly knocking over the couple in front of you. The commotion grabbed Ice’s attention and he glanced over, brow furrowed at the state of you.

You looked around frantically, breathing heavily at the attention that was now on you. Bernie screamed your name again, shoving through the crowd that had gathered in front of the door. You cursed, making a split second decision before you took off into the corn maze, your boyfriend hot on your heels. Ice downed the rest of his drink, shoving the cup into Sarah’s hand before taking off after the two of you.

You ran as fast as you could, resisting the urge to look over your shoulder because you were afraid he was right behind you. With your emotions threatening to drown you, you simply couldn’t face him right now. Your heart was aching and the adrenaline from your fear was still pumping through your veins, activating your fight or flight. 

Everything felt overwhelming to you and you just wanted to get away, to be alone.

Your foot caught on a root sticking up out of the dirt and you hit the ground hard. This was it, you thought. Bernie was going to catch up to you, to confront you about the breakup and about what Jesse had done. He’d tell you that Jesse had been right all along.

But Bernie didn’t seem to notice you among the thick stalks of corn, rushing past you without stopping as he cried out your name, begging for you to stop. A second pair of boots thudded against the earth but they, too, passed without noticing you.

As soon as you were sure they were gone, you started to sob again, fingers clutching at the dirt beneath you. You didn’t want comfort or pity. You didn’t need to be told that everything would be alright. All you wanted was to cry, to wallow in self-pity until there was nothing left for you to feel.

You stayed there for hours, long after the sounds of the party faded and the sun started to rise. Your phone had been vibrating non stop with calls and texts from Bernie so you had turned it off some time ago.

Your tears had finally stopped, dirt stuck to your face in the tracks they had left behind. You rolled over onto your back, staring up at the morning sky and the group of birds that were flying overhead. You wanted to call Cobra but you didn’t want to turn your phone back on, not wanting to see the flood of notifications that were sure to come.

With a sigh, you slowly pulled yourself up and started to trudge in the direction you had come from. Several people were asleep outside, snoring in lawn chairs or inflatable pool chairs. A large dog lifted its head when you got close, looking at you curiously and you sent it a pleading look not to start barking. You were still embarrassed and emotional and the last thing you needed was everyone to wake up and look at you.

You knew you must be a sore sight.

Thankfully, the dog just lowered its head and returned to its nap, allowing you to escape the property without issue. The problem you now faced was that the mansion was far from Sword district and you didn’t want to turn your phone on to call for a ride. 

It was a long walk in an uncomfortable costume, but it seemed like the better alternative at the time so you started walking, head down so you didn’t have to see the judging look of the people you passed by.

It took about twenty minutes before the city came into view, the tall buildings offering you comfort and familiarity. The roar of an engine bounced off of them, sounding angry in the early morning hours. You thought of Cobra and frowned, running a hand through your hair, the wig having been left in the maze.

If he found out what had happened, he would be pissed. You didn’t want to be the reason that Sannoh fought the Warriors again. You didn’t want anyone’s blood on your hands, but there’s no way he wouldn’t know that something had happened.

The apartment you lived in was Bernie’s. His name was on it, he paid for it every month. It was his, you just lived there because he insisted on it despite you telling him that you didn’t want to be a freeloader. You still couldn’t face him which meant you couldn’t go home.

You squatted down with a groan, clutching at your head in frustration. What were you going to do? It was the first time in a long time that you felt as if you had nowhere to go. You felt lost like the first time Cobra had met you.

“Oi.”

“Go away,” you muttered, not interested in fighting with thugs at the moment. The footsteps got closer and a surge of annoyance shot through you. With clenched teeth, you shot up, glaring at the person. “Are you stupid or what? I told you to… piss… off…” your words died when you realized who was standing in front of you.

Ice quirked a brow at you but it was the only emotion he showed as he stared at you.

You swallowed hard, losing all will to fight as you slowly backed away from him. “Please… just leave me alone. I didn’t mean to hit Jesse, it was an accident…”

“He deserved it,” replied Ice, shrugging a shoulder.

You were surprised by the words, having expected him to be angry for attacking one of his men, even if it had been just a single slap.

“Get in,” he ordered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. His car sat against the curb, looking seriously out of place among run down buildings and graffiti painted walls.

You wanted desperately to tell him no, but you were tired, both physically and mentally. You didn’t have the energy to fight or run so you accepted your fate, following him to the car. When you opened the passenger door, though, you paused and looked down at yourself. You were still covered in dirt and leaves. The seats were made of expensive looking leather.

He climbed into his seat, sending you a look as he repeated the order, unbothered by this fact. Carefully, you slid into the seat, pulling the door closed. You honestly felt scared to breathe in case you broke or ruined something inside the vehicle. You sure as hell couldn’t pay for it.

You expected him to take you back home or to the club but he didn’t. He pulled up to a penthouse on the opposite side of town, not far from the club they owned.

“Where are we?” you wondered, glancing at him as he got out of the car. You followed hesitantly, glancing around.

“My place,” he replied simply. 

“Why, um… why are we here?” 

He quirked a brow at you, pressing the call button for the elevator. “You got somewhere else to go?”

A frown tugged at your lips as you shook your head no, gaze falling to the ground. “I can’t face Bernie. I can’t go to Cobra because he’ll get upset. Murayama is still M.I.A… no, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Ice hummed. “There’s your answer then.”

You followed him onto the elevator, glancing at him curiously. You still felt cautious because he was the leader of the Mighty Warriors, but he had never been abusive to you like the others had. “Why… are you being nice to me?”

“God, you ask a lot of questions.”

“Sorry…”

“You’re important to Bernie,” he answered honestly, hands in his pockets. “He’s our family and if you’re important to him, then you’re important to us.”

You scoffed at that. “I don’t think the others got that memo…”

“You and me are gonna have a long talk about that.” 

“Eh?” You blinked at him in confusion, his dark eyes intense when he looked at you again.

“You’re gonna tell me everything.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Nearly a week had passed since the party and you weren’t feeling much better about the situation. You kept having nightmares about the spiders crawling all over you and you’d wake up screaming. You apologized profusely to Ice for this when he came to check on you but he didn’t seem mad.

He wasn’t the type to comfort someone when they were upset, especially since you were dating someone close to him. He basically just left you to yourself, though he did make the occasional comment about how you couldn’t avoid Bernie forever.

You knew he was right, of course, but you were scared. Of what, you weren’t entirely sure. You just knew that anxiety flooded you every time you reached for your phone, which you still had yet to turn on.

You sighed, resting your head on the kitchen table as you stared at your phone. It sat in front of you, the screen black. How many times had Bernie called you? How many texts were sitting there unread? Was he angry at you for ignoring him? 

What if he stopped trying? What if he had decided breaking up was the right choice, after all? Maybe you should have listened when Cobra first told you that the Warriors were trouble.

The front door opened and closed from behind you and you hummed, not lifting up from the table. “You’re back early. You’re out of milk, by the way, and not because I ate all the cocoa puffs. In my defense, I warned you when I saw them.”

You expected a sigh or a smart remark but all you got was silence.

Curious, you slowly sat up, turning in your seat to look at Ice. Only, Ice wasn’t who was standing in front of the door. It was Bernie and he looked terrible. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair a mess and dark bags prominent under his eyes that lacked their usual luster. There was a bruise on his left cheek and his bottom lip was split, but they didn’t look fresh.

You stood up, whispering his name. That seemed to wake him up because he darted across the living room, his body slamming into your own with such force that the table scraped across the floor. His arms were tight around you, face buried in your neck.

“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered against your skin. His voice was so soft, almost as if he were afraid this was a dream and he would wake up if he spoke too loudly.

“Bernie…” you whispered back, clutching onto him as if your life depended on it. Tears filled your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, pulling back so he could cup your cheeks. “You did nothing wrong, baby. I… I’m sorry for not realizing. I didn’t know… I didn’t think they…” He shook his head again, bringing his forehead to your own. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to cause problems,” you admitted. “I didn’t want you to fight with your family.”

“I would fight the world to protect you.”

“I know. That’s why I couldn’t tell you.” You focused on the hem of his shirt, tugging softly at the fabric. “It wasn’t anything serious, just the occasional rude comment or dirty look. I could handle it, but then Jesse…” you couldn’t suppress a shiver as you thought of the spiders again, crawling toward you, touching your skin.

“Hey,” he called softly, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You’re okay. There’s no spiders here. They won’t hurt you.”

You slowly nodded, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I didn’t mean to hit him…”

Bernie scoffed. “You should have hit him harder.”

You gently traced your thumb around the edge of the bruise, a frown tugging at your lips. “I’m guessing you did that for me.”

“I beat his ass,” he scowled, anger flashing through his eyes. “I wanted to kill him for what he did to you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I hear maintaining relationships in prison is hard.”

He hummed, leaning toward your lips but not quite touching them. “If I recall correctly, you broke up with me.”

Guilt and pain filled you. “I’m sorry…”

“Be honest with me. Did you only break up with me because Jesse made you? Or do you really not want to be with me?”

The heartbroken look on his face snapped something within you and you closed the distance, claiming his lips. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, acting as if he were starving and your lips were the only thing that could feed the hunger. Neither of you pulled away until your lungs were screaming at you.

“I love you so much, Bernie,” you whispered honestly. “I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.”

His lips ghosted over yours. “You are the sun in my sky.”

“And you are the moon in mine.”

Bernie smiled, reaching into his pocket to pull out his grandmother’s ring. “Here, this belongs to you.”

Your fingers ghosted over the metal, warm from having been in his pocket. “I promised to never take it off, but I broke that promise.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.” He unclasped the chain, bringing it around your neck before securing it.

You had felt lost without it, honestly, like a piece of you had been missing. With the ring back around your neck, you felt as if that piece had been returned to you. A smile came to your lips as you rested your hand over it.

“Even if the world is against us, I’ll always choose you,” he told you seriously, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my family, too.”

You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder to hide the wide grin that overtook your face.

“It’s about damn time.”

Both of you jumped in surprise, whipping around to see Ice standing in front of the door, a smirk on his lips. 

You bowed to him, offering a grateful smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Now go back home before you end up seeing me naked again.”

Bernie’s eyes widened, shifting between the two of you. “Naked? Again?!”

Ice just shrugged, falling onto the white sofa. “I’m not used to having house guests.”

You rubbed the back of your head, looking away and feeling embarrassed. 

Bernie pouted at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “I’m the only one who you’re supposed to see naked.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you laughed, nudging him back before holding out your hand. “Let’s go home?”

His hand slid into your own, fingers intertwining as if they were made for each other. “Yeah, let’s go home, baby.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

@meridele473 Bernie! c:

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Sixty Six

Gardio: I thought I heard some movement on the roof. *tinkering with the pin from his tie. Making it into a tiny knife he can use in self defense*

Lucille: Either that or she ran off again. This is a very common thing with her.

Ma: (Heavy sigh as she leans on the wall) “Yeah, there really was nothing anyone could do when she decided to run off back in the day. She was too fast for her friends and any adult who could spare the time to chase her down, even if they had a car. So we just… let her do her thing and hoped she’d return before dark.” (Small scoff) “Sounds irresponsible of us, I know…”

Teshteal: *shakes his head sadly*

Joyce: (Studies her boyfriends face, returning that somber look as she clutches both of his hands)

Teshteal: Don't worry... The moment I sense she wants to kill me, I'll run as fast as I can. *shrugs with a sheepish but almost forced grin* Not that it'll help much- at least it's something.

Jasmine: (Knows that her biological rapid healing abilities get stronger when she’s in direct sunlight, kinda like she’s a human solar panel. And she heard a doctor in the vault bitching one time about another expensive procedure that was given to her that requires her to recharge under the sun. The doctor was going on how it wasn’t that necessary as she already has other healing factors, but he was ignored and she was pumped with more sedatives and whatnot)

Nick: *checked out into a book he has on file since she's calm. He's keeping an eye on her, though. It can't be all Jas all the time in his head or he'll go mad. Even parents need a break from their kids*

Jasmine: (Curls up against Nick like a kitten who just found a warm and cozy spot under the sun with her back to the light, partly closing her eyes as she does the little kneading motion she always does when she’s content. Her position is inefficient for healing as her most severe wounds are on her front side, but she wants to snuggle right now)

Gardio: *frowns* They didn't at least scold her for running off?

Lucille: *rolls her eyes* I don't think she has enough respect for others to actually LISTEN. I'm almost twice her age and she thinks it's okay to tell me off, swearing included.

Ma: (To Gardio) “Believe me, we tried to get it through her spunky little head that it was dangerous stunt to pull off, but she was convinced that she was fine on her own so it bounced right off her. And as for disciplinary measures, well there wasn’t much they could do when she was already doing all the chores and taking care of her siblings like a mini parent. What more could they add to that?” (To Lucille) “The swearing is new, I’ve never heard her do that before. But telling off other adults she definitely did, especially when she deemed something unfair.”

Lucille: I would say she's rebellious but honestly there comes a time when it's outright disrespect.

Gardio: I'd have to agree... *frowning still at the fact she was left to take care of her siblings despite literally being 9* I shouldn't judge because of what she's been through but so far she seems pretty rude when she's not hiding or running off. *clucks and shakes his head in disappointment*

Joyce: (Still looks so worried for him, a million “what if” running through her head)

Teshteal: *keeps smiling. It looks more and more forced by the second. He wishes she'd stop worrying about him. He's nothing after all...*

Donovan: (Yawns and stretches out on his bed, rubbing both of his eyes out of habit despite having an eyepatch. He blinks, frowning when he remembers the previous nights disturbing events, how he had to try and talk down Rosie…)

Ma: (Nods her head sadly) “Yes, that’s what’s worrying me. She’s not acting like herself at all. Little Rosalinda used to be somewhat reasonable and respectful, even when she had a good reason to rebel or haughtily toss her hair back.” (Rubs her hands together) “Once her mother passed, she got more defiant and distant with us. Instead of at least hearing us adults out, she’d just walk away even if we were just trying to help her process the tragic loss. And God forbid we try to separate her from her siblings for even an hour to give her a rest when they didn’t want to, she preferred to distance herself on her own terms.”

Joyce: (Heavy sigh as she looks to the bed, quickly rushing over to scoop up Gilbert to rescue him)

Gilbert: (Makes several squealing noises in complaint because he was smothered by the two puppies)

Joyce: (Walks back to Teshteal as she pets her little ferret, debating with herself if she should press further or just let it go)

Teshteal: *still forcing that smile even though the voices are rising up again, reminding him of how pointless he is compared to Jasmine. The only reason he was kept alive in the vault was for their sick pleasure. No one should have to worry about someone as pathetic as him... but he won't say it to her. She's already worrying about him.*

Gardio: *furrows his brow with concern at how she changed after her mother's death* That's where it started... *sighs and pinches his nose*

Ma: “Yes... It was terribly unfortunate. Poor kids already had to navigate without their father, they lost him before Rosie was even three....” (Sighs to herself again) "You know, I think it was their somber origin story that gave them extra points to get away with things they shouldn't have. They were good kids with kind hearts in a bad and unfair situation..."

Donovan: (Rises from his bed, gathering his clothes so he can freshen up for the day and go see Jas)

Joyce: (Blinks sadly, putting away all pressing questions despite her fears) “...Should we head down for breakfast now?”

Teshteal: *nods* Yes. Breakfast would be nice. *heads to the door. Feels terrible for making her worry. Feels like he's troubled her too much*

Gardio: That's unfortunately commonplace now a days... *solemn nod*

Lucille: The settlements see a lot of orphans come through... kids and adults a like. You'd think it would be easier before the war to get help for that sort of thing but even then... *sarcastic but pitying scoff* Good luck if you were poor or looked a specific way.

Ma: (Points to her ghoul complexion) “Some things never change with people I suppose.” (Small laugh when several memories come to mind) “Rosie never had a tolerance to that, she’d get right into people’s faces if they dared try to bully her friends or family for their looks or their lack of wealth. And she was the one who passed as something more than just another street urchin.”

Joyce: (Decides to set Gilbert down as she follows him out)

Donovan: (Was just exiting the bathroom when he sees his little sister come out of her room and he smiles warmly at her) “Mornin’ JoJo!” (Nods at Teshteal) “Mornin’ to ya too!”

Joyce: (Small smile at her brother as she walks over to wrap him in a hug) “Morning…”

Donovan: (Sways her side to side as he pats her back) “Did you sleep well?”

Joyce: (Nods into his shoulder) “Mhm, yes.”

Teshteal: *starts to walk down to the kitchen without her to dish them up. He should at least make himself useful*

Jasmine: (Nuzzles under her Dads neck as she breathes evenly, her loose curls partly hiding her face)

Lucille: *quietly nods. Still doesn't like she got away with things so easily to the point she has next to no respect or consideration for others.*

Gardio: *to Ma, reminding her of why she's here* Shouldn't you be looking for Jasmine...?

Ma: (Smiles and nods) “Yes, I should be. But do any of you two need anything before I go?”

Joyce: (Hugs her brother a little tighter, opening her mouth to say something but then she quickly shuts it)

Donovan: (Looks down at her) “Hm? What’s wrong?”

Joyce: (Softly, not wanting to worry him further) “Nothing…”

Teshteal: *warms the food up in the oven... while his thoughts beat him over the head that he's only a burden on Joyce*

Lucille: I'm fine.

Gardio: Nothing at all, thank you. *shakes his head*

Ma: (Nods) “Alright then, I’ll be off.” (Walks back down the stairs, giving her two children a quick nod before she makes her way outside. On the side of the house is a newly installed set of stairs that she climbs to reach the platform on the roof where she finds Nick and Jas)

Jasmine: (Hears Ma coming and she whines in fear, hiding away in Nicks shirt while tightening her grip)

Donovan: (Pats the bottom of her chin) “Are you sure…?”

Joyce: (Quickly nods, but there is still a question lingering in her eyes)

Teshteal: *quietly to himself* I have to eat... it'll help... *just wants the voices to stop*

Nick: *looks up and sees it's Ma then back down to Jas* It's okay, kiddo. It's only Mama Evie... *gently brushes away her hair from her face with his good hand. He looks up at the motherly ghoul* Come to check up on us?

Jasmine: (Relaxes her tight grip when her dad reassures her, peeking up from Nick to blink at Ma with wide eyes)

Ma: (Nods, smiling warmly at the teen girl and her father) “Yes, I realized you were both missing and Detective Chapel directed me to the roof as he heard movement.” (Gestures around the little platform) “You two are catching some sun? It’s a beautiful day out here. One of our first since winter came to a close.”

Donovan: (Knows something is up so he keeps staring at his little sister worriedly)

Joyce: (Smiles up at him) “…Have you eaten yet? We can go eat breakfast together!”

Donovan: (Worried blink but he nods and takes her hand, starting down the stairs with her in tow)

Teshteal: *dawns a new forced smile when he hears footsteps coming down the stairs. He pulls the food out of the oven for Joyce and him* I've already prepared your portion, Joyce! *sets hers on the table. It's a pretty ballanced portion size. His is most of the food he couldn't eat from yesterday plus just a little more to make it a complete breakfast* Hope you don't mind!

Nick: Yeah figured I could use a tan. This face is a bit pale from being cooped to all day. *wry chuckle at is own ironic self jab* As for Jas the sun on her skin seems to help her heal better.

Ma: (Chuckles at his little joke as she approaches) “Shall I bring you some sunscreen then? Don’t want you to get burned.”

Jasmine: (Nuzzles her head back under Nicks chin with a small hum, closing her eyes as a gentle breeze blows by)

Ma: (Folds her hands) “I wanted to originally ask if it would be a good idea to give Rosie some bone broth after her milk? Or maybe she could try eating some toast or even some apple sauce?”

Jasmine: (Makes a noise of protest at the mention of food as she tightens her grip back on her Dad)

Joyce: (Comes bolting over to the table with a wide smile) “I don’t mind!” (Sits down in her spot)

Gilbert: (Circling under Joyce’s chair, trying to jump up so he can be with her)

Donovan: (Follows close behind to brew himself some coffee. He wants to wait until Joyce starts eating before he goes and checks on Jas)

Teshteal: *decides to sit across from her to give her some space. He quickly goes to eat before she can say anything about this.

Nick: We can start with some broth... I don't know if she's ready for solid food just yet. *rubs her back gently to reassure her*

Ma: “That’s perfectly fine. I’ll go prepare that now if there isn’t anything else you need.”

Jasmine: (Puts her thumb in her mouth to help soothe herself without scratching. She still doesn’t like the idea of drinking anything either)

Donovan: (Serves Joyce a glass of milk to drink along with her breakfast, still so concerned about her)

Joyce: (Doesn't want to worry him as he has already had a hell of a night dealing with Jasmine up in the lighthouse. She picks up her fork and looks up at Teshteal from across the table, wanting to ask why he didn’t sit besides her but she keeps quiet about that)

Teshteal: *thinks he's intruded on her enough. Doesn't want her to feel like he's smothering her*

Nick: *just shakes his head in response*

Ma: (Gives a small wave and heads off back down to the kitchen, entering through the side door)

Joyce: (Perks up when Ma walks in, smiling brightly as she sets down her fork) “Hello Mama! Good morning!”

Ma: (Walks over to give her a gentle kiss on the head) “Morning love. Did you sleep well?”

Joyce: (As she picks up Gilbert and sets him in her lap) “Yup!”

Ma: (Turns to Donny) “And you?”

Donovan: (Gives a thumbs up) “Slept fine.”

Ma: (Turns to Teshteal next) “How about you, dear?”

Jasmine: (Nuzzles against her Dad, planning on alerting him if her feelings get too strong. If Nick looks closely to the oldest wounds on her sides, he can probably see that they are starting to fade with the sunlight)

Nick: *is none the less surprised by this but doesn't say anything to disturb her. Instead he rubs small circles on her back to soothe the teen*

Jasmine: (Grips onto his shirt collar to keep her hands busy, focusing on breathing along with the circles he’s rubbing on her back. It’ll be awhile before her newest and worst wounds start healing)

Teshteal: *forces a smile again and looks up at her. It's hard to tell he's faking it* I slept wonderfully! Thank you! *goes back to eating*

Ma: (Bright smile) “That’s good to hear!”

Donovan: (Takes his coffee mug and starts waking to the stairs)

Ma: (Opens the freezer to get some premade bone broth out that she had froze) “Rosalinda and her father are up on the roof, Donny.”

Donovan: “Oh? Alright then.” (Starts heading for the door)

Ma: (Tilts her head, worried that Jas might get upset if she sees Donny and remembers the previous night) “You should eat first before you go up to see her…”

Donovan: (Shakes his head, pausing to turn to his mother) “No, I’ll be alright-…”

Ma: (Gives him a look) “Donovan…”

Teshteal: *keeps his head low as he eats. Doesn't want to bring attention to himself. Telling himself it's none of his business and that he's just going to get in the way. He always does*

Donovan: (Blinks, scratching his head with a heavy sigh when he realizes what she means) “Perhaps you are right…”

Ma: (Continues prepping the broth) “I believe I am. Just at least until she eats something, okay?”

Donovan: (Silent nod as he takes a seat by his sister, sipping his coffee) “I suppose I do have to clear the area of any Mirelurks that may have nested after the storm… Maybe check the bog for berries.”

Joyce: (Perks up from her breakfast at the mention of the bog) “Oh! Can I come?!”

Ma: (Doesn’t want Donny to go out alone, especially after the previous night) “I may tag along as well if you’re gonna go out.”

Donovan: (Shakes his head at his family’s offer) “No, you both don’t have to. I don’t know what’ll be lurking out there so it’s best you stay here where it’s safe.”

Teshteal: *softly* I can help with the mirelurks... *bitterly at himself* It's what I'm made for after all.

Ma: (Missed that last remark as she heads off to gather a diary and pencil for Jasmine while the broth boils) “You’re our guests here, so don’t worry too much about that and just focus on your healing.”

Donovan: (Sets down his coffee mug, remembering what Gardio had pointed out earlier when they were heading out after the trappers) “…Is it even safe for you to leave?” (Takes in a deep breath) “Or for Rosie? We ought to have a talk about that as your group’s situation is still unclear to us.”

Joyce: (Looks between her boyfriend and brother worriedly, the maple syrup bottle held midair so it’s slowly dribbling onto her plate)

Ma: (Goes upstairs to collect some items to bring to Nick and Jas on the roof, gathering everything in a little basket before she walks back outside and up the stairs)

Jasmine: (Was starting to relax again with the warmth of the sun and Nicks soothing rubs when she hears the approaching footsteps, making her shriek with alarm and cling to her Dad like a baby koala and try to hide under the collar of his shirt)

Ma: (Frowns at the girls reaction, assuming she’s still jumpy from her nightmares) “She’s still nervy from her night terrors, poor sweet child…” (Hold up the pretty pink diary after she sets down the bottle with formula on the little table) “I brought this for her to use as a way of coping. Journaling her nightmares can help her process them in a… “healthier manner”. And perhaps aid you in understanding your daughters situation better so you can better guide her.”

Nick: *smiles at the journal then at Ma* That's actually a wonderful idea. I'm surprised I hadn't thought of it sooner. *to Jas* What do you think, kiddo? Want to give journaling another go? *not reaching for the bottle yet. She needs to calm down first*

Teshteal: *matter of factly but only because he can get through the details quicker like that* Jasmine is the one in danger most outside, especially in the state she's in. Plus, her programming has a stronger hold on her than mine. They had a lot more time to break her down. Don't worry. If we're outside, I'll be able to smell the chems miles before they get to us.

Donovan: (A little confused) “You can do what now? Smell them from far away?” (Has way more questions but he figures that he shouldn’t overload Teshteal as the poor guy had a breakdown yesterday)

Joyce: (Starts eating her food again, not minding that she once again drenched it in syrup)

Gilbert: (Sticking up his wiggly little nose in the air, trying to smell the food on his Joyce’s plate)

Jasmine: (Raises her head to peep up at the two adults, still sucking on her thumb. She looks at the pretty diary thats so much more appealing than her bloodied book, her big magical doe eyes sparking at the color and the fact that there’s prints of roses on it. She glances up at Ma, then at her Dad, nodding her head at him)

Ma: (Smiles brightly down at the teen, taking out a small pencil case with colored pens inside in case Jazzy wants to use those as well. She that and the diary besides the two on the chair) “I hope this and the beautiful day out can help her settle down enough to get some proper sleep.” (Looks up at Nick) “And with her wonderful and caring father watching over her.”

Teshteal: *taps his nose* I have enhanced olfactory senses. It's pretty easy for me to sniff out people. It's how I found Jasmine earlier. Everyone's got a distinct scent profile. Kind of like a fingerprint... *wonders if this is weirding them out* It's kind of a disgusting ability... I'd understand if you think I'm some sort of freak.

Donovan: (Shakes his head) “I’ve been around long enough to have seen more freakish things, this ain't one of them.”

Joyce: (Looks at her boyfriend with a small smile) “I think its pretty neat! But I suppose it would be a bother with strong scents.” (Wrinkles her nose)

Nick: *smiles at the compliment, taking the case and the book from the table* Don't forget to rest, yourself. You're welcome to join us out here if you want. *to Jas* Do you want to go ahead and write something now, doll?

Jasmine: (Nods and sits up as she takes the stationary, scooting off Nicks lap so she’s sitting besides him on the double lounger with her head leaning on his shoulder. She props up her knees to use as a table and starts to write about her previous nightmares starting off with describing the shadows looming over her, the coding helping her see and focus despite her splitting headache and pain)

Ma: (Shakes her head with a wave of her hand) “Don’t you start fretting ‘bout me too, you have enough as it is. I have some things to take care of but I might come back up later as this day is just too lovely to ignore.” (Puts Nicks coat and a thin robe she brought for Jas on the table just in case they get cold)

Nick: *looks at her pointedly* A good guest ought to be mindful of their host. *not looking at what Jas writes right now in case she wants to keep it private*

Teshteal: *scrunches his nose, too* Yeah. For instance the barn yesterday. This also means I have a strong sense of taste, too. *shakes his head, remembering the original subject* That's besides the point. I can get away a lot quicker than they can spot me. Besides I'm sure Joyce can fight, too. *smiles at his girlfriend* I'll do my best to protect her.

Joyce: (Looks to her older brother with puppy eyes, tugging on his arm) “Pleeeeeeaasse???”

Donovan: (Rubs the temple of his brow) “Oh good lord, now there’s two girls who can do puppy eyes at me…”

Joyce: “I wanna pick some berries!”

Donovan: “And I want to keep you safe from Mirelurks and whatever else might’ve made it’s way here after the storm. We haven’t had time to practice your shooting in awhile. Plus, the smell of rotting corpses would draw in more creatures. I wouldn’t be surprise if there was a Fog Crawler or two.”

Joyce: (Eyes widen slightly)

Donovan: (Heavy sigh as he starts to tap his fingers on the table) “That and the Trappers in the quarry...” (Starts mumbling to himself) “God... that's gonna take awhile, there's so much I gotta fix.”

Joyce: (Gets a concerned look on her face for her workoholic brother)

Ma: (Opens her mouth to say something, then looks at Jas and quickly closes it. She silently gestures up to the lighthouse that still has blood and glass covering the floor, something she had to get rid of in case they get more guests)

Jasmine: (Trying to document even the littlest details, doing her best to express the jumbled up feelings that she felt in the moment. The helpless desperation and fear as the large shadows towered over her small frame, the twisting in her heart when they all kept shouting the same degrading insults. Her eyes stay glued onto the diary and her hand never stops moving, the programming taking ahold and putting her into complete focus mode)

Ma: “Donny is also thinking of going out to clear some potential Mirelurks then head to the tarberry bog, I may go with him as there can possibly be more than just that out there.” (Turns and looks out over her newly established farm on this unfamiliar Island, sighing sadly to herself as she folds her hands)

Nick: If that's the case, might be wise to take either Teshteal or Gardio with you. *frowns* I'd suggest Lucille but she's currently out of commission until her leg heals.

Ma: (Stares out longingly at her farm for a long moment, sighing heavily as she shakes her head and turns back to Nick) “Mhm, maybe we will….” (Gets another thought at the mention of Lucille, pursing her lips together)

Jasmine: (Still writing like mad, her hand shaking with how tight she’s gripping the pencil)

Nick: Something on your mind? *looks up curiously at her*

Ma: “Hm?” (Realizes that she’s delayed her response and gives a half smile) “Oh nothing at all- it’s just this old gal getting held up by the past.”

Teshteal: Don't know what a fog crawler is but if it's anything like a Mirelurk Queen, I can take it out easily. *interlaces his fingers and stretches them by pushing them away from his face while grinning with carefree confidence*

Donovan: “Ah…. It’s almost like a giant shrimp- praying mantis type mutated monster. They’re waaaaaay faster than they look and can be a pain to take down.” (Shudders just thinking about it)

Joyce: (Puts her head in her hands, looking at her brother in deep thought) “Still… can we at least try? If there’s anything dangerous we can come right back home.”

Donovan: (Rubs his chin) “I suppose so… but we have to be extra cautious and take the longer rout to avoid going best the water.”

Teshteal: *intrigued by the Fog Crawler and wants to go even more, now. More to himself* I wonder if they taste like shrimp, too...

Donovan: (Sips his coffee) “We’ll go later, maybe right before lunch or after.”

Joyce: (Beams with delight, but then sags a little) “Erm…. Before we go or do anything else- can we talk about something? Just me and you?” (Shyly tucks some hair behind her ear)

Donovan: (Remembers what happened at breakfast yesterday and nods) “Sure, Jo-Jo… You wanna go up to my room to talk right now?”

Joyce: (Quickly nods, turning to her boyfriend) “We’ll just be a minute, okay?”

Teshteal: Okay. *sheepishly waves*

Joyce: (Stands from the table with her brother and Gilbert in her arms, giving Teshteal a quick kiss on the head before she follows Donny up the stairs to his room)

Teshteal: *blinks and blushes at the kiss. As soon as they're gone he gets to work cleaning up his food and clearing the table to keep his thoughts clear*

Nick: *shakes his head* I know the past can be a bit of a slog, believe me, but that expression of yours shifted just as I mentioned Lucille. *raises an eyebrow*

Ma: (Brightens up) “Ah- I was just thinking about asking Lucille if she’d like me to draw her a bath so she can wash up.” (Thinks that the poor young woman needs a good soak after the previous nights events)

Jasmine: (Starts to tremble when she gets around to writing about the Guard Leader, writing faster in order to keep up with her racing mind. Tears form on her eyes as she remembers every word he spat at her, still believing it all. She goes through on how he just appeared in front of her and how he mocked her shivering frame on the floor, stopping when she describes how big he is compared to her after he called her babydoll and yanked her to the floor)

Nick: *rubs Jas's shoulders slightly when he senses she's paused- probably because of something terrible. He only turns his attention to her briefly. With a reassuring tone* You don't have to write it if you don't want to, Rosie... Take a moment to breathe. *to Ma* Good idea- She probably could use a good long soak. She doesn't get to do that often, I'm sure. *nods, as if confirming it for himself*

Ma: (Waves her hand) “I’ll go do that right now.” (Turns and heads back down the stairs and into the house, going straight up to the attic to ask Lucille if having a warm bath sounds like lovely idea)

Jasmine: (Doesn’t stop writing because if she does she won’t be able to start again and she needs to document these things. Hell, she needs to update that damned bloodied book as it’s part of her programming)

Nick: *only nods after her then leans his head back and shuts his eyes, keeping an ear out for any other pauses of Jasmine's pen*

Jasmine: (Lips quiver as she writes, describing being tossed to the floor followed the the growing fear because she knows what he was going to do with her next. Then she recounts that she called out for Nick to save her but was asked by the Guard Leader why he would ever help her. She writes on how she shakily said it was because she was Nicks daughter, but the Guard Leader smacked her with the other reasons on why Nick is bothering to care about her- which made her angry enough to try and hit him)

Lucille: *doing some programming practice on her pipboy*

Gardio: *reading a book he borrowed from the guest room. Because of last night, he feels the need to stay by his little girl's side right now*

Ma: (Comes up the stairs to the attic and knocks on the wall) “Yoo-hoo?” (Smiles warmly at the two) “Lucille? I wanted to ask if you’d like me to run a bath downstairs for you?”

Lucille: *confused* I'm not that dirty, am I...?

Gardio: *looks over at her* Remember, you can take baths for other reasons, Lucille.

Lucille: *raises an eyebrow*

Ma: (Approaches with a gentle smile, stopping at the side of the bed) “It’s good for your mental health as much as your physical health to stay clean, love. And soaking in a nice warm bath with epsom salt can do wonders with relaxing your muscles to help relieve pent up tension.” (Tenderly strokes Lucille’s hair, still so frightfully worried about her as if the young woman was her own daughter)

Lucille: *freezes at the tender touch, glancing up at the older woman. Slightly tears up at the kindness she's being shown. Quietly as she looks back down at her pipboy* Okay.…

Ma: (Smiles even brighter down at Lucille, smoothing out her hair as she leans down to kiss her forehead) “You deserve to pamper yourself every once in awhile. I’ll go run the water for you and gather some soothing supplies. We have some crutches for you to use to keep you off your ankle or your father can help you down the stairs.” (Nods at Gardio) “Also my dear, you think you’ll need assistance in the bathroom? I can wash your hair for you, give ya a little salon scalp treatment and wash.” (Not bringing up the fact that leaving Lucille alone wouldn’t be a good idea considering last night)

@lucilleandherrobots

[darhak]

A 100% Human D&D party? What? Yes this is real. The group fought devils together but they still haven’t found a team name. They all have something related to eyes for some reasons. (Heterochromia, blindness, dropping eyelid, eyepatch...) Left to right: Blume: Divine soul sorcerer. Noble who’s pure and emotional. Has a subtle halo constantly where she stands (random ray of sunlight, plants having the perfect angle at the moment, the environment just align, ect) Galilée: Shadowmonk. Totally blind since birth. Ex-Slave. A real softie. Great smile. Has a symbiote-snake devil with discutable morality (Naag) to keep him alive. Noëlle: Crown paladin. Respect women juice. A Badass and strong dumbass who wants to protect her friends and breaks windows. Rueven: Swarmkeeper Ranger. A child. But a serious child with experience. Got power from the sun god. Has a butterfly swarm. Why the eyepatch? Are you even a kid? So mysterious.