inkareds

[inkareds]

WHAT THE FUCK

ALSO I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR DISCOURSE ABOUT LIAM PAYNE

A MAN IS DEAD

Have some respect for his family and friends

[inkareds]

Me when I haven't posted for months bcs moving for uni is a humbling experience

[inkareds]

Thankq!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

I love writing my Wally-s as bashful during the early stages of him realising he's in love. I'm a firm believe of Wally being his usual joking flirty self before he realises how deep his love for the Reader is and only after he gets used to that feeling will he go back to being flirty and cute

Abstract (Pscyhopomp)

Wally West

9/10 - Unreal Unearth

nav // event masterlist // dc m.list // ko-fi // taglist

✧.* word count: 5.6k ✧.* genre: Fluff!! ✧.* warnings: nothing except that this focuses on Wally more than the Reader

"I remember the view // Streetlights in the dark blue // The moment I knew // I'd no choice but to love you"

Who knew saving someone from a burning building would lead Wally to meeting one of the most interesting people ever?

“Fire at 13th?” Wally looks at the news broadcast, sighing as he places down the burger he is just about to eat. “Where’s Cold when you need him?” 

He mutters nonsensically before leaving his burger, taking a mental note to speed back to the diner once everything is done to take back his burger. Hoping the server doesn’t clean it up before he comes back. 

However, once he did arrive at the scene he realised that he’d probably have to buy another one and take crimes much more seriously. Considering the size of the fire was massive. Immediately greeting him at the scene was an apartment building fully engulfed in fire, the residents were screaming and he could see the foundations of the building slowly crumbling to the flames. 

Quickly taking note of the situation, Wally sped through the building, took as many people as he could and sped out. He had to be quick, not only was the fire crumbling the building and practically suffocating the people inside, he wasn’t fairing that well either. Had the fire not been so large, he would’ve been able to take a couple of people at once and drag them out. But considering how much smoke he was inhaling he had to take a breather outside every other person he brought out. 

All the while, you were desperately trying to body slam the door out of the apartment you were in as quickly as possible before you passed out from inhaling too much smoke. The first sign of a fire hits your nose before it hits your eyes. You smelled smoke before you saw the burning red flames lick through the layers of brick and wood outside your window. 

You were quick enough to wet a rag and bring it to your nose and mouth before you inhaled the billowing smoke. But you weren’t quick enough to exit the building. Considering your door handle was metal you knew it would be dumb to try and open the door. 

So you had no other choice but to try and break it open with your body. The fire should already weaken the wooden doors, it shouldn’t be that hard to break its hinges. After a few more body slams, probably bruising your shoulder and arm in the process, the door finally crashed into pieces. Silently you thanked the friend you were currently home-sitting for, that her landlord refused to modernise the old apartment. 

Unbeknownst to you, Wally was currently going through his final round in the building when he heard the crash. Speeding towards you, he was quick to hold your body against his before speeding out. 

The sudden whiplash caused you to immediately fall to the ground gasping at fresh air once he let go. Ever the kindest hero, Wally leaned crouched down next to you, his hand on your back.

“Are you burned anywbere?!” 

You shook your head, still sputtering smoke and spit into the grass. Wally, seeing that you were relatively alright stood to go help the paramedics and firefighters arriving on the scene. That is until you stood up and looked around, realising someone was missing. 

“George,” you whispered to yourself, scanning the grassy area outside the burning building for him. “George’s still in there.” you whispered, panicking. 

Wally’s brows furrowed, he got everyone out, there wasn’t anyone else. Maybe he missed a spot? Missed a room? Where could he have missed? Too deep into his own thoughts, Wally didn’t realise you had immediately run back inside the burning building once it solidified in your mind that this guy named George was in there. 

“Wait!” Wally rushed into the burning building again. 

The flames licked against his costume as smoke filled his lungs. He could hear the creaking and breaking of wood around him. The building was falling apart, he had to find you and get you out. But with zero knowledge about the layout of the building he was at a loss on where to start. Frustratingly, he was stuck in the middle of the lobby, staring at all the different hallways and staircases trying to deduce where you are. 

Right before he sped into one of the hallways, wishing for the best, he saw you run out of practically a wall of fire. Your body huddled as you ran through trying to minimise the damage done to your body. You held your breath as you tried to run back out. 

Fortunately, Wally quickly rusheed onto you again.

“I got him!” You yelled, almost immediately coughing, though you closed your mouth and held your breath trying desperately not to inhale more smoke. 

Seeing the desperation in the situation, Wally nodded, though he didn’t see where George was, and ran back out. This time once he let go of you and you collapsed back on the grass, he stood up and looked back onto the burning building. 

Where was George?! The building was collapsing, the roof had started caving into the structure and even some of the firefighters had evacuated certain areas knowing the building would not hold any longer. Wally watched them change from trying to stop the fire to trying to contain it as it raged on within the building. 

“That guy, where is he?” He asked, a tinge of panic in his tone, there was no way he could go back inside without something collapsing onto him. But if your friend, colleague, roommate, or whoever this George was still in there he had to try and rescue him. 

“He’s here, don’t worry,” he heard you hoarsely chuckle, your throat still dry and scratchy from the amount of smoke you inhaled. “His fur’s a bit singed but he’s okay.” 

Wally’s brows furrowed, and looking behind him he realised what George was. 

There on the grassy ground, you were pampering and trying to calm down a panicked-looking tiny pomeranian. The edges of his fur had been singed off by the fire but there didn’t seem to be any other injuries. 

Surprised and still running on adrenaline from the sudden terrible fire, Wally crouched down with you. George, the pomeranian, was quick to leap to his hands when he offered them. Yipping and yapping as Wally hesitantly petted him. At the sight, you laughed. 

“He likes you, he’s usually nippy at strangers.” Though you wanted to laugh again, you began coughing. 

Wally, realising that despite the fact you had very minor injuries you still had a terribly torn-apart throat, stood up. 

“Hold on, let me get you some water.” 

As quick as he went, he came back, this time with a bottle of water. You couldn’t care less where it came from the moment you started drinking it. Cooling your parched throat. 

“Georgie!!!!” From afar the two of you heard a man yell out. 

You smiled when a middle-aged couple ran towards your direction. George immediately barked in excitement. The two quickly scooped the dog from the ground and cuddled him close to their body. 

“Thank you so much! We were outside when the fire started, they wouldn’t let us back in to rescue him.” The woman explained whilst her husband, with tears in his eyes, cuddled his dog close to his chest. 

“No worries, when I got out I realised he wasn’t here and just couldn’t handle the thought of him being alone in there.” 

You explained much to the surprise of Wally. There seemed to be a plethora of surprises greeting him today. 

After the two of them left, Wally turned back at you who finished the water bottle. 

“That’s not your dog?” He exclaimed, confused and rather in awe over the fact that you’d risk your life after only narrowly missing death yourself, just to save someone else’s dog. 

“No–” you exaggerated your answer with a chuckle, “I met them last week, my friend who owns the apartment I was in are friends with them though!” 

“You don’t live here?!”

“Nope!” You began to laugh at seeing Flash’s surprised expression. He seemed rather expressive even under a mask, it was humorous, “I was house-sitting. I guess my job is cut short though. There goes ten bucks.” You shrugged. 

Seeing your nonchalance over the fact that the building was literally burning down, Wally couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I forgot to thank you for saving my life by the way, twice!” You exclaimed suddenly, “I’d be more worried if you weren’t here, but I guess with the Flash around I’m sure everyone’s safe.” 

“Well, that’s just the life of a superhero, I guess.” He teased, shrugging in faux nonchalance pretending as if he wasn’t just panicking over the fact that just moments ago you had run back inside a burning, collapsing building. 

“This is odd.” You mused. Wally quirked his brows at your smile. 

“How so?” 

“Usually Batman doesn’t stay this long to chat up the people he rescues. Just dissappears into a random back alley or into the damn darkness like a cryptid. Guess Central City’s just different like that huh?” 

You smiled at the man, granted, you’ve never experienced a disaster quite as bad as this in daylight in Gotham either. But you assumed Batman also wouldn’t be chatting with a random stranger he rescued even if it was in the day. 

“You’re a Gothamite?” Wally questioned, things suddenly making a lot of sense for him. 

“Born and raised.” You puffed up your chest in pride. 

“Might think about moving to Central City then, the superheroes here are less broody.” Wally, once again, teased, nudging your side ever so slightly.

He couldn’t help but continue the conversation. Not every day does he see someone as randomly heroic as you. Someone running into a burning building to save a stranger’s dog was not on his bingo card for things that would happen today. 

“Nah, if I moved here that’s less chance to get saved by Nightwing, and that’s currently my life goal.” 

Wally immediately started laughing, already ready to text Dick about this interaction later once he was free. 

“Oh shit- I’m probably holding you up, right? Crime never takes a break and all that.” You muttered, “I’m going to go over and help with some first aid too. Thank you again, I owe my life to you, literally.” 

Before he could reply, you shook his hand and walked to the closest paramedics to grab some first aid to help out. Wally couldn’t help but smile to himself watching you walk away. He didn’t catch your name but you’ve definitely caught his attention. 

~

The rest of the few weeks went by without a hitch, despite that Wally couldn't help but keep thinking about you. At times he wondered if you got home safely. Considering where you lived that being Gotham he worried about you. He knew he could trust his friends back in Gotham to protect you, especially Dick yet he couldn't help but have your image linger in his mind.

Your bright smile, your cheerful appearance, your selflessness, and especially your bravery, all amused him. 

How humorous he thought to himself how a simple person such as yourself could take his attention away. He's saved countless people over his years of being a hero and yet it's you who he can't seem to escape.

It wouldn't be until a few weeks later that Wally would get a chance to see you again. Barbara had to have her expertise used elsewhere, Jason was God knows where, and Duke had recently gotten badly injured after a scuffle with Bane. That left no one in Gotham to take care of the morning shift except Dick Grayson. But Dick knew his limits so instead of doing it all alone he invited one of his best friends to help out that being Wally himself.

“You got anything over there?”�� Dick spoke into his comms as he stood on the edge of a building.

“Nothing much Gotham seems pretty peaceful when the sun's out!”  Wally exclaimed as he sped through the streets

“Don't say anything that could get this jinxed,” Dick laughed before continuing his patrol.

Wally laughed to himself and then ended the communication. The two of them agreed to take either side of Gotham considering if they split the city in half it would be much easier to react to any kind of crime that happened on either side. However, that meant they would be working individually from each other only calling for backup if there was something that either of them couldn't handle.

Wally kept his eyes on the lookout as he expertly manoeuvred his way around the Gothamites around him. No matter how many times he’s been to Gotham for missions, he never truly got to appreciate the place in the morning. 

Without all the dirt and grime from the lurking fear that something may pop out. The flowers and trees growing next to the pavement and the colourful sights were quite beautiful. He couldn’t help but let his mind linger back to you. He wondered if this was why so many Gohtamites decided to stay in a place as bleak as this. 

The morning sun shows them just how beautiful their city can be and so they hold out hope that when the moon comes and the sun retreats, maybe a calm night will follow. He wondered if that’s how you felt. 

Wondering aside, just as he passes a certain semi-empty street a certain building caught his attention. Wally let himself stop for a second seeing as there didn’t seem to be any crime nearby. He was then met face-to-face with an animal shelter. 

However the shelter was different, instead of just a building, there were windows all over the from of it. Letting anyone walking by see inside. The shelter seemed to be much more funded than many others he’s seen, as looking through the windows he could see large areas where the dogs could play and another where the cats could. It was just in front of some of the kennels and right behind the counter, only separated by a gate and fences.

Some of the dogs were being let out to play around. There were some workers around the fussing and playing. The open concept made the space seem much happier and more welcoming than many other shelters. He wondered what rich person was nice enough to take such good care of this many animals. Considering how much of a problem Gotham has with abandoned animals. 

“Oh.” A singular sound made him turn around. 

And just like that weeks of pining and wondering crashed down. 

One would think being in the hero business as long as he had would make it very difficult to make Wally West, former kid Flash, now Flash, surprised. But there you were causing him to stagger in his steps. 

“What happened to not liking Gotham because of how broody the people are,” composing yourself quickly after seeing the fucking Flash standing like a deer in headlights in front of your animal shelter, you tried to joke. 

Wally, quickly realising he was still staying silent, tried to make a funny remark. 

“Can’t trust rumours you know, gotta collect my own data about how broody you Gothamites are.” He put his hands on his hips and shrugged, feigning nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just spent weeks thinking about you. 

You looked much more composed than you did the last time he saw you, granted the last time he saw you was right after he saved you from a burning building. But right now, free of soot, grime, sweat, and all the nasty shit that comes from being in a collapsing burning building, twice, you looked radiant. 

“What are you doing here anyways, not in Gotham I mean, don’t want to intrude in any secret hero business. I mean in front of my shelter.” 

Your?!

As if a lightbulb just activated in Wally’s head he then realises how on-brand it would be for you to own an animal shelter such as this one. 

“I was just looking around, are you doing alright by the way? I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole fire ordeal shook you up.” 

You thought about it for a moment, it was true. For the first few days after the incident, you checked every stove and electrical outlet in your apartment every night before you slept. Not to mention the amount of times you brushed up on the fire safety in your apartment building. Needless to say, you were pretty shaken up by it. 

“I guess I was, took a bit of time off from both of my jobs, but it’s not so bad now. Life goes on right? Plus I’m too worried about insane penguins to worry too much about a fire.”

Wally laughed at that. He found himself smiling at your easygoing nature. How it seems so easy for you to take your time, process everything, and then move on. A part of him wished he could take time off too. But unfortunately, crime doesn’t stop for anything. And a speedster must keep running. 

“Wait, two jobs?” He asked, selfishly wanting to know more about you, though he was sure he’d have to dodge a question if you tried the same thing. Secret identity and all. 

“Yeah, the shelter barely pays for me, any profits are gone back into the facility or paying the staff. So I’m a professor in Gotham University. Pays pretty well so I can keep running the shelter even when we’re running low on donations.” 

“That’s pretty noble of you. Don’t you get tired?”

“Says the literal hero.” You rolled your eyes at the irony, “Sometimes, but I take breaks here and there. I know when I can push myself and when I should take a step back. I have a bunch of staff in the shelter than can help me out and I have two TAs.” You shrugged as if you were saying the most obvious thing in the world, “I know I can rely on them.” 

Wally couldn’t help but let out a lopsided grin. All of it seemed to come easy to you. Sure, handling two emotionally demanding jobs wasn’t the same as handling a hero identity and a civilian identity. But isn’t being a hero and a civilian basically like having two jobs too? Yet, you’re able to work at it so calmly. While Wally’s lucky if he could have a full night’s rest. 

He wanted to get to know you more, he wanted to know how your mind worked, and how you could become the person you were. However, just before he opened his mouth his comm whirred to life. 

“Croc at southeast, 13th avenue, there’s a lot of civilians, I could use some help!” Dick yelled out followed by sounds of crashing and roaring. 

“Shit.” Wally shook his head after receiving the information. 

“Trouble in the most broody city?” You asked with a smile. 

Wally sheepishly nodded, one hand on the back of his neck. How he wished he could spend the entire day in front of the cutesy shelter just talking to you. But alas, he had to help Dick. 

“Well, I’m glad we got to see each other again Flash. Go save some lives then.” Wally chuckled. 

“Says the shelter owner.” Before rushing off. 

~

When the day was over, right before heading back into Central City, he passed by the street where your animal shelter was located. He told himself that it was because the street was on the way to Central City. Though he knew the real answer was he wanted to see you again. 

But for some reason, when he did see you again, locking up the shelter, he hid himself in an alleyway. Was he bothering you? You seemed like a nice person who wouldn’t say anything if someone was taking up too much of your time. 

At a moment’s notice, Wally’s mind went overdrive in a torrent of jumbled mess. How much of your time did he waste that morning when he stopped you from entering the shelter? Were you late for anything because of him? 

If he approached you right now would you be bothered? It looks like you’re heading home, what if he started chatting with you and you end up having to pull an all-nighter because you didn’t get home quick enough to do your report? Do you have to do reports? Is that something a University Professor did?! 

Wally shook his head from side to side, clearing his mind of any thoughts. It didn’t matter anyway, he shouldn’t get himself involved with you. You’re a civilian, you could get hurt. Especially if someone sees him in his costume talking to you.

But Gotham was dangerous. And it was far into the evening at this point. Wally quickly turned his head towards your direction from where he was hiding. Were you really walking home alone?!

“This person!” He whisper-yelled to himself. 

Ok, he’d just make sure you got home safe. You said it yourself, you were scared of insane penguins. Were there a bunch of cases relating to Penguin these days in Gotham? He should’ve been paying more attention. 

His mind was frazzled so much that he didn’t quite notice how creepy he seemed tailing behind you. Not that you or anyone else around would notice, he’s been in one too many stealth missions to be able to get around undetected. At least to the normal civilian. Not to a Batman-trained vigilante on home ground. 

“Dude what are you doing?” 

Wally practically almost sped away in shock at hearing Dick’s voice above him. Standing on a fire exit, Dick looked down on Wally with an amused smile. Before responding, Wally looked back to where you were only to find you already making your way into your apartment building. Thankfully safe and sound.

“Are you seriously spying on a random person? You know, if you’re getting involved with a Gothamite, Bruce might need to do an investigation.” Dick joked, causing Wally to sigh. 

“No, I’m not getting involved with a Gothamite. I was just making sure they got home safe.” Wally leaned on the wall behind him, hand in his hair. 

“Okayy,” Dick chuckled, leaning on the railing to get a better look at Wally, “So, do they know?” 

“About?”

“You being Flash and all?”

“It’s the opposite actually.” He sheepishly confessed. 

Dick let out a loud laughter after that. He quickly quieted seeing his friend deflate. 

“So you got to know them as Flash and not Wally?” At Wally’s nod, Dick shook his head, “That’s harder to deal with.” 

“Well– We’re not dealing with anything! I just rescued them a few weeks ago and by chance met them again. There’s nothing going on.” Wally exasperatedly threw his hands up and glared at Dick. 

“Alright- alright- What’s their name?” 

“Uh-”

“No way,” Dick laughed, “You don’t even know their name and you’re following them home?! I didn’t know my best friend was such a creep!” Dick practically hollered in laughter before jumping down the fire exit to be face-to-face with a flushed Wally West. 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, okay?! I was busy and they were busy! And I didn’t want to waste their time!”

Dick chuckled but patted Wally’s shoulder. 

“Well, that’s probably for the better. Who knows what’ll happen if we get civilians involved with us.” He shrugged trying to cheer up the red-head. 

Wally groaned and nodded along. 

“I should head on back, early morning patrol tomorrow.” He mumbled to Dick who nodded to continue the endless crime fighting that was Gotham. 

“Just don’t forget about next month! Donna, Kori, and Roy’s gonna be there too! It’s rare enough that more than two of us are available at any moment.”

Wally could only scold himself over and over again in his mind as he ran back to Central City. Wondering if he could do things differently. If he should do things differently. 

~

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Dick’s so going to kill me! No, Donna’s going to kill me!” Wally practically left a tornado of papers flying around as he rushed through his apartment to shower, brush his teeth, and change his clothes. 

The former Titans members had been planning a small get-together for quite some time now. In the past, any sort of plans were always cancelled due to sudden criminal activity causing wreckage. But now that things seemed to slow down and many of the League members were on Earth, they didn’t have to worry too much about needing to help around.

Not that it would’ve changed whether or not Wally would immediately speed off to the crime scene the moment he hears the smallest amount of struggle in a villain fight. 

For a second, your words from a month ago rang in his head. 

“I know I can rely on them.”

He should work on not trying to be everywhere at once and saving everyone. He should trust the others more. But alas, that’s just the life of a speedster, the ability to go anywhere and everywhere in the blink of an eye makes all of them feel like they should. Even when they don’t need to be. 

Taking a quick glance at the clock, he cursed to himself again. How he can sleep through three alarms is insanity. He was supposed to have an early lunch with them at 11 and it was now 11.30. Granted he can get there in a literal minute, but still. 

Rushing over towards Gotham, once he got to the street with the diner he was meeting Donna, Dick, Kori, and Roy, he changed into his normal attire and ran normally. After all, he couldn’t burst into the restaurant at super speed. 

As if nothing else could go wrong, the adrenaline made Wally less than careful. The busy Saturday streets of Gotham definitely weren’t helping. Before he could process anything, his body collided with another. A startled shriek brought him immediately back into reality. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Wally immediately apologised seeing as how he spilled the person’s coffee everywhere. 

In a moment of panic, he tried wiping off the coffee from their clothes but was quickly brushed off. A familiar sound of laughter caught his ears and he finally turned his attention to the person he collided with. 

“It’s fine! Things happen, you were really rushing there. You got some coffee on you too.” 

His eyes widened as they met with yours. Now without the safety of a boisterous persona that is the Flash costume, he fumbled trying to find his words. 

“I’m- is there anything I could do to make it up?! I’m so embarrassed, I wasn’t looking! I’m so sorry!” 

Your eyes widened at his panic. 

“Hey, hey! It’s fine, calm down,” you wanted to laugh but the strange redhead in front of you was panicking so much you were worried he would start hyperventilating in the middle of the street. “I’m not burned, I’m fine.” 

You quickly reached out to pull him to the side, so that people could walk past both of you. Your sudden touch against his skin immediately grounded him. Realising how stupid he must’ve looked Wally took a deep breath and straightened himself. How does he keep getting into these situations? He should really slow down. 

“You good now?” You chuckled seeing him compose himself. 

“Yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of his neck, “I still feel bad about the coffee though. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

You thought about it for a moment, originally you were just going to brush it off. The guy seemed to be in a hurry, whatever it was seemed important. But seeing as how he wanted to take the time to properly apologise to you, you guessed you could take a little bit of his time. He looked like he was in desperate need of a break anyway. 

“How about you buy me a new cup of coffee and accompany me?” Your dazzling and carefree smile put Wally’s heart at ease. 

He froze for a moment, letting his heart calm down. 

“You asking the person who spilled coffee all over you out on a date?” he playfully winked. 

You laugh, a sound bringing the same amount of warmth to his chest as one would get when they turned on the radio after a long day only to find the station was playing their favourite song. 

“If you want to see it that way.” You slyly responded back. 

Wally agreed and the two of you made your way to a cafe nearby. 

“Hold on, I’m going to check if they have a table first, if they don’t we can find a different place.” He nodded and stayed outside the small and quaint cafe looking outwards. 

There he was suddenly met with four confusing stares from the diner just across the street. 

Donna, Kori, Dick, and Roy were staring at him as if he had just grown three heads. At this point, he had been over 45 minutes late and the fact that he wasn’t going into the diner they were in but waiting outside a cafe was perplexing. And they made sure that those emotions were being sent off from their glare. 

“Hey they got a table!” 

He still stared back at the four, wondering what he should do. He could speedily buy you your coffee and make an excuse on how he needs to rush and then go to the diner. But then he wouldn’t be able to take a moment with you. 

“Earth to stranger who spilled my coffee!” You poked your head out of the cafe to look at him. Only to sigh and sound sympathetic, “If you’re really rushing to go somewhere I don’t mind you just paying for my coffee by the way. I was semi joking at the accompany me part of my request.” 

From the way you said it, Wally knew that if he did say he was rushing to get somewhere and only paid for your coffee you truly wouldn’t mind it. Hell, you would’ve probably even apologised for dragging him to a cafe with you. But did he really want to do that?

Wally shook his head and sent an apologetic smile to his friends across the street. They can arrange something else next time. After all, it’s not like they don’t see each other often on missions anyway. When else would he get the chance to actually relax? The lot of them would probably leave before the hour strikes 12 to deal with any villains that popping up. And that would send him spiralling to hurry and help them. Once again, rushing. 

But when he looked back at you, your careless smile and the light way you carried yourself. He took a moment to think. Maybe he should take a page out of your book and take a break. 

“Yeah, coming!” 

The moment both of you were seated, he felt, oddly calm. He didn’t feel the need to fidget with his phone, seeing if there were any reports nearby that he needed to deal with. He just ordered two coffees and sat in comforting silence in front of you. 

Which was odd, as he knew why he felt comfortable around you, considering he’d spoken to you a lot before. But why were you so comfortable around him? 

“Have we met somewhere? You seem familiar.” 

Wally was taken aback, he knew he should’ve taken Dick’s recommendation and hid his hair behind the mask. You’ve figured it out! His mind started moving a million miles a minute.

“I think I’d remember if I met someone as dashing as you.” He tried to smoothly change the conversation. 

You chuckled and shrugged. 

“Oh well, you probably just remind me of someone, I never caught your name by the way.” 

“Right! It’s Wally.” 

You smiled. 

“Wally, suits you.” He liked hearing his name in your voice it quieted the noisy thoughts in his mind. 

“And yours?” 

Now he’ll finally know your name. 

Before you answered he took a quick glance at the window beside him which faced the diner. Only to see Dick grinning ear to ear. That bastard.

~

Cute epilogue cause this was just adorable

“I already knew.” 

“What?!” 

Wally deflated to the ground. 

He expected you to be shocked, hopefully not angry, maybe even elated. After all, who would’ve thought that the hero who saved your life all those years ago was actually your boyfriend?!

“Come on, I literally said you seemed familiar the first time I met you. Are you kidding me?” 

“Still! You couldn’t have acted surprised! It was a lot trying to hide all of this from you!!!” Wally whined causing you to laugh and envelop him in a hug. 

“Yeah, you didn’t do a good job at that either. I found your costume the first month we lived together.” 

Wally dropped his head onto your shoulder at that statement. Sulking even deeper into your touch. 

“But I’m still glad you trust me enough to tell me yourself. I wouldn’t have minded if you never did.” You stroked his back and spoke with so much sincerity that Wally couldn’t help but let his heart melt. 

“You’re so patient with me.” 

He picked up his head and looked towards you.

“Someone has to be.” You joked, he chuckled. 

“I love you.” His face inched closer towards you. 

“I love you too, my saviour.” You grinned before pressing your lips against his. 

Taglist: @eggie0-0 @weirdfallencreature

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LMAOOO I thought I was going to get it done by last month but I got stuck midway and had no idea how to continue it without it sounding boring and repetitive!

[inkareds]

Heyoo quick question to my Modern HOTD fans!

How do you see Aegon modern ver?

Tw for drugs and alcohol

Cus one hand I can see him as a classic frat boy who fucks around, gets bitches, loves partying, lowkey misogynistic, and hates responsibilites

BUT I feel like modern him could also be the rebelious alternative troublemaker. NOW HEAR ME OUT!!!!

I know some people think Aemond would be the baddie w a motorcycle and edgy taste. While I do think he'd have edginess to him, I feel like he's more performative emo than like actually rebelious punk/alternative. Mainly bcs canon him is like someone who is ambitious, reads a lot, extremely smart, and strong. I feel like modern Aemond would reflect that, someone who only ACTS and DRESSES edgy bcs of teenage angst that was never resolved. In reality? The moment he needs to look even slightly professional, he's ditching the chain necklaces and the edgelord vibe and fully lean into the future CEO/Academic vibes. He seems like the person who at first glance seemed to know underground bands, indie as fuck, probably rebels and hates everything, then you get to know him and he's a rule follower who's is just extremely resourceful and knows when he can bend the rules.

Aegon on the otherhand, canon him has friends (who I feel like he doesn't really like), is fucking PATHETIC, can't get BITCHES AND HAS TO FORCE WOMEN, and like his younger version is a tormentor!!! Who's lazy as shit!

So I can imagine him being the actual alternative family member, who actually hates his family and the money and the status. So I really want to know ya'll's take on this. Cus I feel like Aegon would be the alcoholic, drug-user, smoker, guy in the back of your class who not only has the vibe Aemond has but with the added of authenticity. Bcs Aegon's angst and anger comes from an actual hatred of his current situation and him like giving up.

Whilst Aemond is still fighting his way up (and it's working so he's 100% more snobby than Aegon)

Altho I do think KING Aegon is a bit diff

Anyw thankq for listening to my long ass text, I might re explain this on laptop cus I'm writing this in a very messy manner on my phone while walking LMAO.

I'm very VERY interested to how you guys think Aegon, Aemond, or any of the of house of the dragon characters are like modern version. Or how would you modernise the Dance of Dragons

Ps I am currently a show only while I do know the book roughly, my take comes from mainly show knowledge

Also I'd like to add I also like the emo/edgy/rebelious Aemond modern aesthetic and the frat boy trash Aegon aesthetic LMAO

[inkareds]

hi uh i keep seeing this being debated on tiktok and as your resident adult with a history of infertility who knows just.. way too much about pregnancy and hcg tests: if you are capable of getting pregnant, you really REALLY need to understand how drugstore pregnancy tests work. if there is a line, no matter how faint, that test is POSITIVE. I’ve seen people test positive and get a negative or start their period a few days later and be like “it must have been a false positive”. actual false positives are extremely rare. what most likely happened is something called a ‘chemical pregnancy’ which is when an egg is fertilized but does not implant in the uterus so the pregnancy does not continue. that positive test was not faulty or false, it was just an early test.

if you think you might be pregnant, get your hands on a test. you don’t need the fancy digital ones. the ones you can buy at places like the dollar tree work just as well. buy a few and take one every day until your period comes on if you need to. if there is a FAINT line you aren’t sure about (sometimes tests have something called an indent that makes a shadow that can be mistaken as a very very faint line), test again the next day. as a general rule, morning is the best time to test for most people.

in a post-roe america, is it vitally necessary that you know and understand that because if you intend to terminate, your window is incredibly small in most states and by the time you’ve missed a period or begun to suspect you might be pregnant, there’s a decent chance you are past the cutoff. please please please educate yourselves on this because it could mean the difference between you having access to the healthcare that you need.

[inkareds]

Jon Bernthal:

• One of the biggest zionists in Hollywood and a massive supporter of the IDF

• Supports domestic abuser Shia LaBeouf and had him on his podcast to start his redemption tour

• Friends with sexual abuser Marilyn Manson

• Supports police fascism

• Worked with Roman Polanski post conviction

[inkareds]

Abstract (Pscyhopomp)

Wally West

9/9 - Unreal Unearth

nav // event masterlist // dc m.list // ko-fi // taglist

✧.* word count: 5.6k ✧.* genre: Fluff!! ✧.* warnings: nothing except that this focuses on Wally more than the Reader

"I remember the view // Streetlights in the dark blue // The moment I knew // I'd no choice but to love you"

Who knew saving someone from a burning building would lead Wally to meeting one of the most interesting people ever?

“Fire at 13th?” Wally looks at the news broadcast, sighing as he places down the burger he is just about to eat. “Where’s Cold when you need him?” 

He mutters nonsensically before leaving his burger, taking a mental note to speed back to the diner once everything is done to take back his burger. Hoping the server doesn’t clean it up before he comes back. 

However, once he did arrive at the scene he realised that he’d probably have to buy another one and take crimes much more seriously. Considering the size of the fire was massive. Immediately greeting him at the scene was an apartment building fully engulfed in fire, the residents were screaming and he could see the foundations of the building slowly crumbling to the flames. 

Quickly taking note of the situation, Wally sped through the building, took as many people as he could and sped out. He had to be quick, not only was the fire crumbling the building and practically suffocating the people inside, he wasn’t fairing that well either. Had the fire not been so large, he would’ve been able to take a couple of people at once and drag them out. But considering how much smoke he was inhaling he had to take a breather outside every other person he brought out. 

All the while, you were desperately trying to body slam the door out of the apartment you were in as quickly as possible before you passed out from inhaling too much smoke. The first sign of a fire hits your nose before it hits your eyes. You smelled smoke before you saw the burning red flames lick through the layers of brick and wood outside your window. 

You were quick enough to wet a rag and bring it to your nose and mouth before you inhaled the billowing smoke. But you weren’t quick enough to exit the building. Considering your door handle was metal you knew it would be dumb to try and open the door. 

So you had no other choice but to try and break it open with your body. The fire should already weaken the wooden doors, it shouldn’t be that hard to break its hinges. After a few more body slams, probably bruising your shoulder and arm in the process, the door finally crashed into pieces. Silently you thanked the friend you were currently home-sitting for, that her landlord refused to modernise the old apartment. 

Unbeknownst to you, Wally was currently going through his final round in the building when he heard the crash. Speeding towards you, he was quick to hold your body against his before speeding out. 

The sudden whiplash caused you to immediately fall to the ground gasping at fresh air once he let go. Ever the kindest hero, Wally leaned crouched down next to you, his hand on your back.

“Are you burned anywbere?!” 

You shook your head, still sputtering smoke and spit into the grass. Wally, seeing that you were relatively alright stood to go help the paramedics and firefighters arriving on the scene. That is until you stood up and looked around, realising someone was missing. 

“George,” you whispered to yourself, scanning the grassy area outside the burning building for him. “George’s still in there.” you whispered, panicking. 

Wally’s brows furrowed, he got everyone out, there wasn’t anyone else. Maybe he missed a spot? Missed a room? Where could he have missed? Too deep into his own thoughts, Wally didn’t realise you had immediately run back inside the burning building once it solidified in your mind that this guy named George was in there. 

“Wait!” Wally rushed into the burning building again. 

The flames licked against his costume as smoke filled his lungs. He could hear the creaking and breaking of wood around him. The building was falling apart, he had to find you and get you out. But with zero knowledge about the layout of the building he was at a loss on where to start. Frustratingly, he was stuck in the middle of the lobby, staring at all the different hallways and staircases trying to deduce where you are. 

Right before he sped into one of the hallways, wishing for the best, he saw you run out of practically a wall of fire. Your body huddled as you ran through trying to minimise the damage done to your body. You held your breath as you tried to run back out. 

Fortunately, Wally quickly rusheed onto you again.

“I got him!” You yelled, almost immediately coughing, though you closed your mouth and held your breath trying desperately not to inhale more smoke. 

Seeing the desperation in the situation, Wally nodded, though he didn’t see where George was, and ran back out. This time once he let go of you and you collapsed back on the grass, he stood up and looked back onto the burning building. 

Where was George?! The building was collapsing, the roof had started caving into the structure and even some of the firefighters had evacuated certain areas knowing the building would not hold any longer. Wally watched them change from trying to stop the fire to trying to contain it as it raged on within the building. 

“That guy, where is he?” He asked, a tinge of panic in his tone, there was no way he could go back inside without something collapsing onto him. But if your friend, colleague, roommate, or whoever this George was still in there he had to try and rescue him. 

“He’s here, don’t worry,” he heard you hoarsely chuckle, your throat still dry and scratchy from the amount of smoke you inhaled. “His fur’s a bit singed but he’s okay.” 

Wally’s brows furrowed, and looking behind him he realised what George was. 

There on the grassy ground, you were pampering and trying to calm down a panicked-looking tiny pomeranian. The edges of his fur had been singed off by the fire but there didn’t seem to be any other injuries. 

Surprised and still running on adrenaline from the sudden terrible fire, Wally crouched down with you. George, the pomeranian, was quick to leap to his hands when he offered them. Yipping and yapping as Wally hesitantly petted him. At the sight, you laughed. 

“He likes you, he’s usually nippy at strangers.” Though you wanted to laugh again, you began coughing. 

Wally, realising that despite the fact you had very minor injuries you still had a terribly torn-apart throat, stood up. 

“Hold on, let me get you some water.” 

As quick as he went, he came back, this time with a bottle of water. You couldn’t care less where it came from the moment you started drinking it. Cooling your parched throat. 

“Georgie!!!!” From afar the two of you heard a man yell out. 

You smiled when a middle-aged couple ran towards your direction. George immediately barked in excitement. The two quickly scooped the dog from the ground and cuddled him close to their body. 

“Thank you so much! We were outside when the fire started, they wouldn’t let us back in to rescue him.” The woman explained whilst her husband, with tears in his eyes, cuddled his dog close to his chest. 

“No worries, when I got out I realised he wasn’t here and just couldn’t handle the thought of him being alone in there.” 

You explained much to the surprise of Wally. There seemed to be a plethora of surprises greeting him today. 

After the two of them left, Wally turned back at you who finished the water bottle. 

“That’s not your dog?” He exclaimed, confused and rather in awe over the fact that you’d risk your life after only narrowly missing death yourself, just to save someone else’s dog. 

“No–” you exaggerated your answer with a chuckle, “I met them last week, my friend who owns the apartment I was in are friends with them though!” 

“You don’t live here?!”

“Nope!” You began to laugh at seeing Flash’s surprised expression. He seemed rather expressive even under a mask, it was humorous, “I was house-sitting. I guess my job is cut short though. There goes ten bucks.” You shrugged. 

Seeing your nonchalance over the fact that the building was literally burning down, Wally couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I forgot to thank you for saving my life by the way, twice!” You exclaimed suddenly, “I’d be more worried if you weren’t here, but I guess with the Flash around I’m sure everyone’s safe.” 

“Well, that’s just the life of a superhero, I guess.” He teased, shrugging in faux nonchalance pretending as if he wasn’t just panicking over the fact that just moments ago you had run back inside a burning, collapsing building. 

“This is odd.” You mused. Wally quirked his brows at your smile. 

“How so?” 

“Usually Batman doesn’t stay this long to chat up the people he rescues. Just dissappears into a random back alley or into the damn darkness like a cryptid. Guess Central City’s just different like that huh?” 

You smiled at the man, granted, you’ve never experienced a disaster quite as bad as this in daylight in Gotham either. But you assumed Batman also wouldn’t be chatting with a random stranger he rescued even if it was in the day. 

“You’re a Gothamite?” Wally questioned, things suddenly making a lot of sense for him. 

“Born and raised.” You puffed up your chest in pride. 

“Might think about moving to Central City then, the superheroes here are less broody.” Wally, once again, teased, nudging your side ever so slightly.

He couldn’t help but continue the conversation. Not every day does he see someone as randomly heroic as you. Someone running into a burning building to save a stranger’s dog was not on his bingo card for things that would happen today. 

“Nah, if I moved here that’s less chance to get saved by Nightwing, and that’s currently my life goal.” 

Wally immediately started laughing, already ready to text Dick about this interaction later once he was free. 

“Oh shit- I’m probably holding you up, right? Crime never takes a break and all that.” You muttered, “I’m going to go over and help with some first aid too. Thank you again, I owe my life to you, literally.” 

Before he could reply, you shook his hand and walked to the closest paramedics to grab some first aid to help out. Wally couldn’t help but smile to himself watching you walk away. He didn’t catch your name but you’ve definitely caught his attention. 

~

The rest of the few weeks went by without a hitch, despite that Wally couldn't help but keep thinking about you. At times he wondered if you got home safely. Considering where you lived that being Gotham he worried about you. He knew he could trust his friends back in Gotham to protect you, especially Dick yet he couldn't help but have your image linger in his mind.

Your bright smile, your cheerful appearance, your selflessness, and especially your bravery, all amused him. 

How humorous he thought to himself how a simple person such as yourself could take his attention away. He's saved countless people over his years of being a hero and yet it's you who he can't seem to escape.

It wouldn't be until a few weeks later that Wally would get a chance to see you again. Barbara had to have her expertise used elsewhere, Jason was God knows where, and Duke had recently gotten badly injured after a scuffle with Bane. That left no one in Gotham to take care of the morning shift except Dick Grayson. But Dick knew his limits so instead of doing it all alone he invited one of his best friends to help out that being Wally himself.

“You got anything over there?”  Dick spoke into his comms as he stood on the edge of a building.

“Nothing much Gotham seems pretty peaceful when the sun's out!”  Wally exclaimed as he sped through the streets

“Don't say anything that could get this jinxed,” Dick laughed before continuing his patrol.

Wally laughed to himself and then ended the communication. The two of them agreed to take either side of Gotham considering if they split the city in half it would be much easier to react to any kind of crime that happened on either side. However, that meant they would be working individually from each other only calling for backup if there was something that either of them couldn't handle.

Wally kept his eyes on the lookout as he expertly manoeuvred his way around the Gothamites around him. No matter how many times he’s been to Gotham for missions, he never truly got to appreciate the place in the morning. 

Without all the dirt and grime from the lurking fear that something may pop out. The flowers and trees growing next to the pavement and the colourful sights were quite beautiful. He couldn’t help but let his mind linger back to you. He wondered if this was why so many Gohtamites decided to stay in a place as bleak as this. 

The morning sun shows them just how beautiful their city can be and so they hold out hope that when the moon comes and the sun retreats, maybe a calm night will follow. He wondered if that’s how you felt. 

Wondering aside, just as he passes a certain semi-empty street a certain building caught his attention. Wally let himself stop for a second seeing as there didn’t seem to be any crime nearby. He was then met face-to-face with an animal shelter. 

However the shelter was different, instead of just a building, there were windows all over the from of it. Letting anyone walking by see inside. The shelter seemed to be much more funded than many others he’s seen, as looking through the windows he could see large areas where the dogs could play and another where the cats could. It was just in front of some of the kennels and right behind the counter, only separated by a gate and fences.

Some of the dogs were being let out to play around. There were some workers around the fussing and playing. The open concept made the space seem much happier and more welcoming than many other shelters. He wondered what rich person was nice enough to take such good care of this many animals. Considering how much of a problem Gotham has with abandoned animals. 

“Oh.” A singular sound made him turn around. 

And just like that weeks of pining and wondering crashed down. 

One would think being in the hero business as long as he had would make it very difficult to make Wally West, former kid Flash, now Flash, surprised. But there you were causing him to stagger in his steps. 

“What happened to not liking Gotham because of how broody the people are,” composing yourself quickly after seeing the fucking Flash standing like a deer in headlights in front of your animal shelter, you tried to joke. 

Wally, quickly realising he was still staying silent, tried to make a funny remark. 

“Can’t trust rumours you know, gotta collect my own data about how broody you Gothamites are.” He put his hands on his hips and shrugged, feigning nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just spent weeks thinking about you. 

You looked much more composed than you did the last time he saw you, granted the last time he saw you was right after he saved you from a burning building. But right now, free of soot, grime, sweat, and all the nasty shit that comes from being in a collapsing burning building, twice, you looked radiant. 

“What are you doing here anyways, not in Gotham I mean, don’t want to intrude in any secret hero business. I mean in front of my shelter.” 

Your?!

As if a lightbulb just activated in Wally’s head he then realises how on-brand it would be for you to own an animal shelter such as this one. 

“I was just looking around, are you doing alright by the way? I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole fire ordeal shook you up.” 

You thought about it for a moment, it was true. For the first few days after the incident, you checked every stove and electrical outlet in your apartment every night before you slept. Not to mention the amount of times you brushed up on the fire safety in your apartment building. Needless to say, you were pretty shaken up by it. 

“I guess I was, took a bit of time off from both of my jobs, but it’s not so bad now. Life goes on right? Plus I’m too worried about insane penguins to worry too much about a fire.”

Wally laughed at that. He found himself smiling at your easygoing nature. How it seems so easy for you to take your time, process everything, and then move on. A part of him wished he could take time off too. But unfortunately, crime doesn’t stop for anything. And a speedster must keep running. 

“Wait, two jobs?” He asked, selfishly wanting to know more about you, though he was sure he’d have to dodge a question if you tried the same thing. Secret identity and all. 

“Yeah, the shelter barely pays for me, any profits are gone back into the facility or paying the staff. So I’m a professor in Gotham University. Pays pretty well so I can keep running the shelter even when we’re running low on donations.” 

“That’s pretty noble of you. Don’t you get tired?”

“Says the literal hero.” You rolled your eyes at the irony, “Sometimes, but I take breaks here and there. I know when I can push myself and when I should take a step back. I have a bunch of staff in the shelter than can help me out and I have two TAs.” You shrugged as if you were saying the most obvious thing in the world, “I know I can rely on them.” 

Wally couldn’t help but let out a lopsided grin. All of it seemed to come easy to you. Sure, handling two emotionally demanding jobs wasn’t the same as handling a hero identity and a civilian identity. But isn’t being a hero and a civilian basically like having two jobs too? Yet, you’re able to work at it so calmly. While Wally’s lucky if he could have a full night’s rest. 

He wanted to get to know you more, he wanted to know how your mind worked, and how you could become the person you were. However, just before he opened his mouth his comm whirred to life. 

“Croc at southeast, 13th avenue, there’s a lot of civilians, I could use some help!” Dick yelled out followed by sounds of crashing and roaring. 

“Shit.” Wally shook his head after receiving the information. 

“Trouble in the most broody city?” You asked with a smile. 

Wally sheepishly nodded, one hand on the back of his neck. How he wished he could spend the entire day in front of the cutesy shelter just talking to you. But alas, he had to help Dick. 

“Well, I’m glad we got to see each other again Flash. Go save some lives then.” Wally chuckled. 

“Says the shelter owner.” Before rushing off. 

~

When the day was over, right before heading back into Central City, he passed by the street where your animal shelter was located. He told himself that it was because the street was on the way to Central City. Though he knew the real answer was he wanted to see you again. 

But for some reason, when he did see you again, locking up the shelter, he hid himself in an alleyway. Was he bothering you? You seemed like a nice person who wouldn’t say anything if someone was taking up too much of your time. 

At a moment’s notice, Wally’s mind went overdrive in a torrent of jumbled mess. How much of your time did he waste that morning when he stopped you from entering the shelter? Were you late for anything because of him? 

If he approached you right now would you be bothered? It looks like you’re heading home, what if he started chatting with you and you end up having to pull an all-nighter because you didn’t get home quick enough to do your report? Do you have to do reports? Is that something a University Professor did?! 

Wally shook his head from side to side, clearing his mind of any thoughts. It didn’t matter anyway, he shouldn’t get himself involved with you. You’re a civilian, you could get hurt. Especially if someone sees him in his costume talking to you.

But Gotham was dangerous. And it was far into the evening at this point. Wally quickly turned his head towards your direction from where he was hiding. Were you really walking home alone?!

“This person!” He whisper-yelled to himself. 

Ok, he’d just make sure you got home safe. You said it yourself, you were scared of insane penguins. Were there a bunch of cases relating to Penguin these days in Gotham? He should’ve been paying more attention. 

His mind was frazzled so much that he didn’t quite notice how creepy he seemed tailing behind you. Not that you or anyone else around would notice, he’s been in one too many stealth missions to be able to get around undetected. At least to the normal civilian. Not to a Batman-trained vigilante on home ground. 

“Dude what are you doing?” 

Wally practically almost sped away in shock at hearing Dick’s voice above him. Standing on a fire exit, Dick looked down on Wally with an amused smile. Before responding, Wally looked back to where you were only to find you already making your way into your apartment building. Thankfully safe and sound.

“Are you seriously spying on a random person? You know, if you’re getting involved with a Gothamite, Bruce might need to do an investigation.” Dick joked, causing Wally to sigh. 

“No, I’m not getting involved with a Gothamite. I was just making sure they got home safe.” Wally leaned on the wall behind him, hand in his hair. 

“Okayy,” Dick chuckled, leaning on the railing to get a better look at Wally, “So, do they know?” 

“About?”

“You being Flash and all?”

“It’s the opposite actually.” He sheepishly confessed. 

Dick let out a loud laughter after that. He quickly quieted seeing his friend deflate. 

“So you got to know them as Flash and not Wally?” At Wally’s nod, Dick shook his head, “That’s harder to deal with.” 

“Well– We’re not dealing with anything! I just rescued them a few weeks ago and by chance met them again. There’s nothing going on.” Wally exasperatedly threw his hands up and glared at Dick. 

“Alright- alright- What’s their name?” 

“Uh-”

“No way,” Dick laughed, “You don’t even know their name and you’re following them home?! I didn’t know my best friend was such a creep!” Dick practically hollered in laughter before jumping down the fire exit to be face-to-face with a flushed Wally West. 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, okay?! I was busy and they were busy! And I didn’t want to waste their time!”

Dick chuckled but patted Wally’s shoulder. 

“Well, that’s probably for the better. Who knows what’ll happen if we get civilians involved with us.” He shrugged trying to cheer up the red-head. 

Wally groaned and nodded along. 

“I should head on back, early morning patrol tomorrow.” He mumbled to Dick who nodded to continue the endless crime fighting that was Gotham. 

“Just don’t forget about next month! Donna, Kori, and Roy’s gonna be there too! It’s rare enough that more than two of us are available at any moment.”

Wally could only scold himself over and over again in his mind as he ran back to Central City. Wondering if he could do things differently. If he should do things differently. 

~

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Dick’s so going to kill me! No, Donna’s going to kill me!” Wally practically left a tornado of papers flying around as he rushed through his apartment to shower, brush his teeth, and change his clothes. 

The former Titans members had been planning a small get-together for quite some time now. In the past, any sort of plans were always cancelled due to sudden criminal activity causing wreckage. But now that things seemed to slow down and many of the League members were on Earth, they didn’t have to worry too much about needing to help around.

Not that it would’ve changed whether or not Wally would immediately speed off to the crime scene the moment he hears the smallest amount of struggle in a villain fight. 

For a second, your words from a month ago rang in his head. 

“I know I can rely on them.”

He should work on not trying to be everywhere at once and saving everyone. He should trust the others more. But alas, that’s just the life of a speedster, the ability to go anywhere and everywhere in the blink of an eye makes all of them feel like they should. Even when they don’t need to be. 

Taking a quick glance at the clock, he cursed to himself again. How he can sleep through three alarms is insanity. He was supposed to have an early lunch with them at 11 and it was now 11.30. Granted he can get there in a literal minute, but still. 

Rushing over towards Gotham, once he got to the street with the diner he was meeting Donna, Dick, Kori, and Roy, he changed into his normal attire and ran normally. After all, he couldn’t burst into the restaurant at super speed. 

As if nothing else could go wrong, the adrenaline made Wally less than careful. The busy Saturday streets of Gotham definitely weren’t helping. Before he could process anything, his body collided with another. A startled shriek brought him immediately back into reality. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Wally immediately apologised seeing as how he spilled the person’s coffee everywhere. 

In a moment of panic, he tried wiping off the coffee from their clothes but was quickly brushed off. A familiar sound of laughter caught his ears and he finally turned his attention to the person he collided with. 

“It’s fine! Things happen, you were really rushing there. You got some coffee on you too.” 

His eyes widened as they met with yours. Now without the safety of a boisterous persona that is the Flash costume, he fumbled trying to find his words. 

“I’m- is there anything I could do to make it up?! I’m so embarrassed, I wasn’t looking! I’m so sorry!” 

Your eyes widened at his panic. 

“Hey, hey! It’s fine, calm down,” you wanted to laugh but the strange redhead in front of you was panicking so much you were worried he would start hyperventilating in the middle of the street. “I’m not burned, I’m fine.” 

You quickly reached out to pull him to the side, so that people could walk past both of you. Your sudden touch against his skin immediately grounded him. Realising how stupid he must’ve looked Wally took a deep breath and straightened himself. How does he keep getting into these situations? He should really slow down. 

“You good now?” You chuckled seeing him compose himself. 

“Yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of his neck, “I still feel bad about the coffee though. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

You thought about it for a moment, originally you were just going to brush it off. The guy seemed to be in a hurry, whatever it was seemed important. But seeing as how he wanted to take the time to properly apologise to you, you guessed you could take a little bit of his time. He looked like he was in desperate need of a break anyway. 

“How about you buy me a new cup of coffee and accompany me?” Your dazzling and carefree smile put Wally’s heart at ease. 

He froze for a moment, letting his heart calm down. 

“You asking the person who spilled coffee all over you out on a date?” he playfully winked. 

You laugh, a sound bringing the same amount of warmth to his chest as one would get when they turned on the radio after a long day only to find the station was playing their favourite song. 

“If you want to see it that way.” You slyly responded back. 

Wally agreed and the two of you made your way to a cafe nearby. 

“Hold on, I’m going to check if they have a table first, if they don’t we can find a different place.” He nodded and stayed outside the small and quaint cafe looking outwards. 

There he was suddenly met with four confusing stares from the diner just across the street. 

Donna, Kori, Dick, and Roy were staring at him as if he had just grown three heads. At this point, he had been over 45 minutes late and the fact that he wasn’t going into the diner they were in but waiting outside a cafe was perplexing. And they made sure that those emotions were being sent off from their glare. 

“Hey they got a table!” 

He still stared back at the four, wondering what he should do. He could speedily buy you your coffee and make an excuse on how he needs to rush and then go to the diner. But then he wouldn’t be able to take a moment with you. 

“Earth to stranger who spilled my coffee!” You poked your head out of the cafe to look at him. Only to sigh and sound sympathetic, “If you’re really rushing to go somewhere I don’t mind you just paying for my coffee by the way. I was semi joking at the accompany me part of my request.” 

From the way you said it, Wally knew that if he did say he was rushing to get somewhere and only paid for your coffee you truly wouldn’t mind it. Hell, you would’ve probably even apologised for dragging him to a cafe with you. But did he really want to do that?

Wally shook his head and sent an apologetic smile to his friends across the street. They can arrange something else next time. After all, it’s not like they don’t see each other often on missions anyway. When else would he get the chance to actually relax? The lot of them would probably leave before the hour strikes 12 to deal with any villains that popping up. And that would send him spiralling to hurry and help them. Once again, rushing. 

But when he looked back at you, your careless smile and the light way you carried yourself. He took a moment to think. Maybe he should take a page out of your book and take a break. 

“Yeah, coming!” 

The moment both of you were seated, he felt, oddly calm. He didn’t feel the need to fidget with his phone, seeing if there were any reports nearby that he needed to deal with. He just ordered two coffees and sat in comforting silence in front of you. 

Which was odd, as he knew why he felt comfortable around you, considering he’d spoken to you a lot before. But why were you so comfortable around him? 

“Have we met somewhere? You seem familiar.” 

Wally was taken aback, he knew he should’ve taken Dick’s recommendation and hid his hair behind the mask. You’ve figured it out! His mind started moving a million miles a minute.

“I think I’d remember if I met someone as dashing as you.” He tried to smoothly change the conversation. 

You chuckled and shrugged. 

“Oh well, you probably just remind me of someone, I never caught your name by the way.” 

“Right! It’s Wally.” 

You smiled. 

“Wally, suits you.” He liked hearing his name in your voice it quieted the noisy thoughts in his mind. 

“And yours?” 

Now he’ll finally know your name. 

Before you answered he took a quick glance at the window beside him which faced the diner. Only to see Dick grinning ear to ear. That bastard.

~

Cute epilogue cause this was just adorable

“I already knew.” 

“What?!” 

Wally deflated to the ground. 

He expected you to be shocked, hopefully not angry, maybe even elated. After all, who would’ve thought that the hero who saved your life all those years ago was actually your boyfriend?!

“Come on, I literally said you seemed familiar the first time I met you. Are you kidding me?” 

“Still! You couldn’t have acted surprised! It was a lot trying to hide all of this from you!!!” Wally whined causing you to laugh and envelop him in a hug. 

“Yeah, you didn’t do a good job at that either. I found your costume the first month we lived together.” 

Wally dropped his head onto your shoulder at that statement. Sulking even deeper into your touch. 

“But I’m still glad you trust me enough to tell me yourself. I wouldn’t have minded if you never did.” You stroked his back and spoke with so much sincerity that Wally couldn’t help but let his heart melt. 

“You’re so patient with me.” 

He picked up his head and looked towards you.

“Someone has to be.” You joked, he chuckled. 

“I love you.” His face inched closer towards you. 

“I love you too, my saviour.” You grinned before pressing your lips against his. 

Taglist: @eggie0-0 @weirdfallencreature

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LMAOOO I thought I was going to get it done by last month but I got stuck midway and had no idea how to continue it without it sounding boring and repetitive!

[inkareds]

howdy pardner

since a lot of yall liked the idea of cowboy nightwing

throws these out for good measure

freaky wip photo

[inkareds]

To Someone from A Warm Climate

Rhaenyra Targaryen (F! Reader)

8/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.1k ✧.* genre: GAYYYY GAY GAY GAY ✧.* warnings: irrelevant ass warning, I wrote this when I was sick at 2am on a fuck ton of stomach medicine! It is unedited and I don't know how it looks! I refuse to re-read it! Also female reader and like it kinda ooc for the Stark family and stuff.

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

What's better than a comforting friend in the cold?

Also quick info just in case people don't know: Rickon Stark and Gilliane Glover are Cregan's parents, Rickon has a brother named Bennard Stark who had 3 sons, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric.

(ps I have not watched the new episodes so I don't know how they handled Cregan and Jacaerys there)

“You seem cold, princess.” Rhaenyra quickly turned her head around at the voice.

You politely bow when she meets your gaze. 

“Alas, it seems the north’s climate is not for me.” She answers as you smile at her words. 

“It rarely is for people from the south.” Walking closer to her you introduce yourself. “Lord Bennard’s youngest bastard.” 

Rhaenyra’s face morphed into that of a confused wonder at your brazen statement. 

“I did not see you when Lord Rickon introduced his house, Lady Snow-”

“I am neither a lady nor part of the great House Stark, addressing me by my first name is enough, princess.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as you moved closer towards her. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d be received as warmly as you are now by Rhaenyra. 

You had heard of the news that the princess would conduct her tour to find a suitor across Westeros a while ago. Of course, it would take ages before she arrived in Winterfell, but now that she was here it felt surreal. 

Just a few hours ago you were able to sneak around The Great Keep within Winterfell Castle to be able to see the princess’ first introductions towards your family. Lord Rickon Stark, your uncle, introduced himself and his younger brother, your father, Bennard Stark, as well as his sons, your half-brothers, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark. Being a bastard, you weren’t allowed to attend this formal event, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t spy on them. 

The princess was radiant, despite her long travels, she was still able to keep her head held high and regality was clear in the way she spoke. Though the Lady Stark, Gilliane Glover warned you on approaching the princess, fearing what your father’s punishment to you would be, you couldn’t help yourself. 

So now you find yourself here, side by side next to the princess, talking as carelessly as you usually would. 

“Where are your knights, princess? I didn’t expect you to walk around unattended.” You looked around not seeing any guards around her, including the tall one who seemed to follow her around everywhere. 

“I sent them away, for the time being, I’d like to enjoy the snow alone.” 

She smiled at you as you understood what she meant, nodding and taking a few steps back you spoke, “Ah, I see, forgive me then. I shall leave you to your devices.” 

That was when she laughed, a sound so melodic you now understood why they called her the Realm’s Delight. 

“Apologies, I do not mean you, I mean alone away from men. After my long tour, I bore at the sight of many of them tripping over themselves trying to win my favour.” Hearing that you picked yourself back up and placed yourself back by her side. 

“I do not blame them, if I were a Lord from a noble house, I would swear my land, blood, and soul for you.” From the corner of your eye, you see the young princess open her mouth ever so slightly to say something, before looking back out into the falling snow. 

“Are you enjoying the summer snow, Your Highness?” 

“Summer?” Rhaenyra sputtered, “I’m afraid it is far too cold for summer.” 

She turned towards you with an expression of disbelief, but you only laughed and stepped out from the shade over you into the snow. Rhaenyra watched as the light snow trickled onto your many furs and hair, all the while you reached out to grab some on your naked hand. 

“Would you mind taking off one of your gloves, Your Highness?” 

Confused but intrigued, Rhaenyra took off her glove on her right hand, as you placed some of the snowflakes on her open palm. Holding her hand in both of yours so that she wouldn’t be too cold without the glove you began explaining. 

“The North is cold, far too cold for any real summers that I’m sure you experience. But when winter comes, the snowflakes will be sharper and harder to the touch.” Rhaenyra lightly crushed the snowflakes in her hands, feeling them melt almost immediately. “Summer snow, on the other side, is softer and wetter. It melts the moment your body heat touches it. And it only happens in the morning such as now. By noon, all the snow will be gone and the farmers will start tending to their crops.”

Rhaenyra intently listened as you explained. She was far too young last she went to The North, all she remembered was the everlasting cold the entire time she was there with her father and late mother. How she used to pout as a mere toddler due to the chill. 

Thinking back on it a shiver ran through her. You took notice of this and immediately wiped the melted snow from the princess’ hands and urged her to quickly use her glove again. 

“I mustn't keep forgetting how cold Southerners get this far North. If you will allow me, princess, I know a place in The Great Keep where it should be warmer, while simultaneously allowing you to still enjoy the view.” 

You had expected Rhaenyra to politely decline your invitation, you’d been acting far too forward with her and you wondered when you’d be reminded of the difference in your status. But, surprising you, and herself, Rhaenyra agreed, her want for warmth overpowering her duties. Knowing right now she should be returning to her chambers and readying herself for a feast with the Starks. 

But she couldn’t help herself be led by the bastard girl with too few sugar-coated words. You led her through mazes of hallways you grew up in, looking to your side now and again to watch Rhaenyra wonder at the sheer size of Winterfell. The castle was big, you knew that much, and from what little Gilliane Glover was able to teach you behind your father’s back, you heard it was almost three times bigger than the Red Keep where the princess resided. 

When you finally reached where you wanted the air was much warmer than it had been and it had stopped snowing. 

“Touch the walls,” you instructed the princess as you gracefully leaned on one. 

Rhaenyra reached to touch the cobblestone walls, it was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost hot in certain parts. Despite where they are, a simple hallway which opens to the outside. The view was breathtaking. A large tree was in sight and plants flourished on the ground. Colourful wildflowers of all shades of blue, purple, and pink decorated the landscape. 

“How can the wildflowers grow here?” She asked. 

“Do you see over there? The smoke?” you pointed out not so far out, and truth be told there was some billowing smoke. “Those are the springs which Winterfell is built around. I can’t take you there as a lot of servants and maids are there to care for it. But it is the warmest place in all of the north. The waters there are then distributed through pipes all within the walls to warm the castle.” 

Seeing the way Rhaenyra kept listening, you continued, rather happy to have someone to talk to other than maids or servants twice your age. 

“This area of the castle is where most of the main pipes converge, that’s why it’s the warmest. Aside from the solar and the Starks’ bed chambers.” 

“It is still awfully cold.” Rhaenyra muses, though with the way she grinned you suspected she was just jesting. So, you chuckled. 

“I guess, I wouldn’t know. The cold is all I ever known.” You spoke with a smile, staring out into the plants swaying lightly against the wind. 

Hearing this, the young princess looked at you with her brows furrowed. 

“Have you not left the North? Surely you must, as Lord Bennard’s daughter I assumed you are well traveled.” 

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, wondering how to explain your predicament to the princess without souring the mood. 

“I assume you think this way because I’m living here rather than discarded like most bastards are?” Rhaenyra’s silence was telling, “Lady Gilliane Glover was the one who took me in after she found out of my existence. I assume she wanted another lady in the castle, considering she has no child of her own and my father has all sons.” 

You fiddled with your fingers out of general nerves. You did not want to sadden the princess or make her uncomfortable with your sob story. You’ve accepted it, but it seems anyone you’ve told it to have been pitiful about it. 

“Despite my father’s wishes, she took me in.” You told her honestly.  “I have no titles nor duties, I’m simply here to accompany the lady.” 

You finally lifted your head to smile at Rhaenyra. Truth be told, you wondered at times what would happen to you once the lady passes or once she has a child of her own. Alas, what happens in the future will stay a mystery until it comes. 

Feeling the silence to be slowly stifling, you broke the sullen atmosphere. 

“But I wouldn’t know where to go even if I had the chance to travel. What do you recommend princess? Where do you like to go? I’m sure you’ve been on a lot of adventures on your great dragon.” 

At the mention of Syrax, a soft smile crept its way onto Rhaenyra’s expression. Causing your heart to skip a beat. 

“Dragonstone.” she stated without much thought. “It overlooks the sea, you could hear the waves crash against stone as you slumber, it is comforting.” 

Before you can ask further about Dragonstone, her ancestral seat, Lady Giliane Glover rushes into the area. 

“Your Highness, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She quickly bowed before her gaze met towards you. 

You bashfully avoid her questioning gaze, knowing you’re up for an earful once she gets you alone. Lady Gilliane had always reminded you to keep your head low, afraid that you may invoke your father’s anger and get banished from the castle walls. But oftentimes, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, it wasn’t your fault your half-brothers, though older, were dumber and much more susceptible to pranks. 

“Excuse me, I was looking for my niece, it seems I should’ve known she was bothering you.” Gilliane spoke softly, giving an apologetic smile towards the princess. 

To which Rhaenyra shook her head, looking between the two of you she realises the time. Despite her annoyance over having to be seated with three potential suitors, all sons of Bennard Stark, she must fulfil her duty. 

“Nonsense, she was showing me around, the castle is far too large and I found myself at a lost on how to go to where I wanted.” 

“Of course! I should have appointed one of ours to accompany you.” 

Rhaenyra went silent for a little bit, briefly looking beside her at you, not that you noticed, your gaze sticking only at Gilliane’s. 

“Right, I must return to my chambers now. I wish to rest before the feast.” 

Gilliane nodded and motioned for one of her guards to lead the princess towards her room. When they were out of earshot that’s when she placed her attention on you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself can you?” Though her words were sharp, her tone was light and kind. 

“Apologies, my lady. The princess looked lonely.” 

She sighed as a response, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“What will I do with you, dear child.” She chuckled as she grasped your hand in hers. 

The older woman smiled at you. You’ve always known she had a soft spot for you, but every day you were still grateful for her kindness. As the two of you walked, Gilliane leaned in towards you. 

“I hope you are as kind to my child as you are to the princess.” 

Your eyes widened, “You are expecting, my lady?!” 

Gilliane grinned widely and patted your head. 

“I am, a son I feel, though we will only know for sure when the babe comes. But when they do, I hope you will care for them as I have cared for you. I have a feeling your half-brothers will not be as welcoming.” 

Hearing the news you nodded to her. That day a silent oath was spoken in your mind. To repay all of Lady  Gilliane Glover’s kindness, you’ll make sure to protect her child no matter what. 

~

Unfortunately for you, despite your best efforts, you were not able to talk to Rhaenyra for the entirety of her visit to Winterfell. At Lord Rickon Stark’s insistence, Rhaenyra always had a maid, servant, or knight with her throughout the day to guide her and give her a tour of Winterfell as a whole. 

Because of this, the princess hadn’t had a single moment alone except when she slept. Considering how Bennard Stark had warned you the day after he heard the news that you were speaking to the princess unattended, you didn’t want people to see you talking to the princess, afraid of the consequences to her reputation. 

After all, she shouldn’t be seen talking carelessly to a thrown-away bastard such as yourself. 

Nonetheless, you still came across her quite often. Having no real duties except accompanying Lady Gilliane who was now quite busy with dealing with the royal guest in her home. You roamed around the castle mindlessly more often than not. So you ran across the princess a lot as well. 

Every time you did see her, she looked quite tired and lonely. At times you wondered if she was getting enough sleep, if her room was too cold for her. 

“You know, I heard the princess was fond of lace,” Lady Gilliane suddenly spoke. 

The two of you were currently in the library taking a well-deserved break, well, well-deserved on Lady Gilliane’s part. Your head quirked in confusion at her sudden statement. You had been so engrossed in your book about Dragonstone that you hadn’t been paying attention to the lady. 

“Is that so, my lady?” You questioned. 

You looked up from your book at her who was currently in her book. One about fairytales, you wondered if she was memorising them for when her babe would arrive. 

“Yes, and I have also heard that you finished your lace handkerchief recently.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of Lady Gilliane’s knowing grin. 

“That, I have, my lady.” You mused to yourself, standing up from where you were seated, “If you will excuse me, I remembered I promised Elric that I’d watch his archery practice.” 

Even you rolled your rolled your eyes the moment the excuse came out of your mouth. Lady Gilliane stifled a chuckle at the obvious lie. 

“Right, wouldn’t want to make your half-brother wait, I’m glad the two of you are getting along well.” Sarcasm was laced strongly in her statement.

That was how you found yourself currently inside Rhaenyra’s room, waiting for her to finish another feast with the Starks, fiddling with the lace handkerchief in your hands. Tonight would be the last night Rhaenyra Targaryen would be staying in the North. After days of conversing with your family and meeting other suitable suitors within the area, she will finally go back South to continue her tour tomorrow morning. 

This would be the last time you’d be able to speak with the princess. 

You quickly stood up from where you were sitting when the heavy doors opened. In came a weary-looking princess, whose whole demeanour froze up when she saw you. You froze for a moment as well, seeing her, heat filling your body at the realisation that she could easily have you banished from Winterfell if she thought you were overstepping. 

But you swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to go for it. After all, what can a bastard lose?

“My princess, apologies, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to speak with you in the company of my uncle’s men or your own men. So I thought it would be best to wait in your chambers. I wanted to give you this,” you sputtered, wanting to make your point before Rhaenyra called for the guards to kick you out of her chambers. 

Rhaenyra’s silence caused anxiety to bubble up within you, as you walked towards her to hand her the handkerchief. Truth be told, it wasn’t a functional handkerchief, as such was the properties of lace, sheer and delicate. But you had created it in the shape of one, so you called it one.

She picked up the delicate white lace from your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against one another causing sparks to flow from your fingertips into your heart. Was the princess always this beautiful? 

Rhaenyra observed the design, letting her dainty hands caress the intricate patterns and craftsmanship. It was far from perfect and definitely far from the quality of lace professional lacemakers in King’s Landing would create for her dresses. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a tightening feeling in her heart the more she caressed the fabric. 

“I had only wanted to practice my craftsmanship, but when I finished it reminded me of you.” 

The design was that of a flower, one that Rhaenyra did not recognise. 

“What flower is this?” 

“Snowdrop, my lady, it is a flower that grows in the cold. They look quite delicate and soft but are one of the hardiest and strongest flowers I know. They also symbolise hope.” You explained quickly, hands behind your back fidgeting against the stitching of your dress. 

Rhaenyra looked closer at the lace. 

“Hope,” she slowly looked up at you and smiled. 

A dazzling one, one that would buckle your knees and make you melt to the ground as if you were hit with Dorne’s heat. 

“I-” she started holding the lace, “I’ll treasure it, thank you.” 

Hearing her heartfelt statement brought a bright smile to your face. Quickly followed by a rush of heat. The princess seems to have a flustering effect on you. 

When silence followed suit, you nodded to yourself and were just about to walk past the princess to leave, feeling awkward now that you didn’t know what else to say. But mimicking the first time you met, Rhaenyra stopped you again. 

“It’s cold.” She suddenly stated. 

You quirked your head to the side slightly at the confusing sudden statement. 

“I can ask the servants to bring more firewood to your fireplace if you’d like.” 

Rhaenyra shook her head, taking a few steps closer to you. 

“I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m asking if you’d like to stay here for the night, I feel as though it is loneliness that’s causing a chill in my bones. It would bring me comfort to have a friend accompany my last night in this foreign land.” 

Immediately you were thankful for the darkness, aside from the large fireplace which warmed the room, you were both in. Considering your expression at her question probably exposed your flustered interior. After a short pause to recollect yourself. You smiled warmly at the princess. 

“My father did tell me to make sure the Targaryens are well cared for. I would be distraught if you slept cold on your last night here.” 

With a giggle, Rhaenyra quickly grabbed your hand and headed straight to in front of the fireplace. That night the two of you spoke like old friends. Though at first, you baulked at the casualness of which you were speaking to someone of a much higher class than you were. You were quickly charmed by Rhaenyra’s friendly nature. 

Though you did not know it, your company had brought more comfort to Rhaenyra than you could ever imagine. The bone-chilling loneliness she’d been experiencing due to the loss of her friend Alicent, had brought much grief to her. The ease with which your conversation flowed as you both joked and jested with one another reminded her of an easier time. 

As the night went deeper, the two of you found yourselves in bed. It reminded you of the first few times you had been brought into the castle, confused and lost at how a common beggar such as yourself could suddenly be brought into the castle where you seldom sleep. That is until Lady Gilliane caught wind of it and slept in your bedchambers with you until you got used to the noble life.

Though, of course, the stakes were slightly different this time. Although the way your heart was hammering against your chest was quite similar, you guessed the reasoning for it was different. Back then, it was the nervousness of feeling unworthy of the attention of a noble. This time, it was nervousness from something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on just yet. 

But now as you stared into Rhaenyra’s eyes, both of you lay on her bed on your sides you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You remind me of snow, princess.” 

Rhaenyra’s brows quirked in a way you found positively adorable. 

“Soft and beautiful but with the ability to be harsh and strong. The colour of your hair helps with the imagery as well.” You added the last bit to lighten the mood of your statement a little bit. 

Something that seemed to work as the princess grinned. 

“You remind me of a wolf.” She stated, “Strong and resilient, yet loyal and intelligent. Equally as beautiful as well.” 

She whispered the last part. 

A comforting silence then befalls between the two of you. You couldn’t help but get lost in the princess’ eyes. They were so full of life, that you wondered what it would look like in any other times. What did Princess Rhaenyra look like when she was elated? When she’s entertained? When she’s sad? Angry? Terrified? In love? 

You guessed she must look beautiful no matter what. The image in your mind pushed your hand to move not according to your own volition. You brought one of your hands to the princess’ cheek, caressing her soft skin under your fingertips ever so slightly. 

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, though she did not pull back, quite the contrary. She leaned closer to your face. Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you, your lips shyly touching her own. Rhaenyra reciprocated as shyly. A chaste kiss was shared before you jolted backwards. 

Quickly sitting up, you covered your mouth in shock. What have you done?

“Princess! I’m sorry– I– I overstep. I forget myself. My deepest apologies–” You muttered nonsensically before fully standing up on the floor and rushing towards the doors. 

Leaving Rhaenyra silent and shocked on the bed. Her fingers touch her lips ever so slightly at the soft touch of your lips. Remembering the short moment, a small smile crept onto her face, though you were now halfway on your way back to your room. Mortified and terrified for the morning. 

~

When morning did end up coming, you did not expect to be woken up by some maids. Usually, both your father and the reigning Lord Rickon Stark left you on your own. Choosing to forget about your existence. This led to you dealing with your own empty schedule yourself, as Lady Gilliane was usually only free at noon or afternoons anyway. Which were the times she would want you to accompany her. 

You’d usually make your way to the kitchens to have breakfast or an early lunch with the other maids, eating whatever food they provided for you. 

But this time, maids quickly came into your room and went to wake you. Surprising you. They quickly drew a bath and fussed over your appearance. Before you could properly regain your thoughts and get a concise answer on why they were treating you as one of the Starks, you were already pushed out of your chambers and led outside. 

When you saw the crowd from afar, that was when you realised something. You were going to be with your family to bid Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen farewell. How mortifying!

Finally being led to your side of the family, you stood beside your youngest half-brother Elric Stark who glared at you. In the corner of your vision, you see Lady Gilliane look over towards you, clueing you on who set up the entire thing. 

Not too long after a myriad of armed guards left the building and behind them followed the princess. 

She looked radiant, her hair in intricate braids which reminded you of the drawings of Visenya you’ve seen in books. Her dress was layered with coats upon coats of fur, clearly preferring to wear more outer layers than making sure her dress was thick enough, likely to make the changing climates as she leaves the north easier to deal with. 

As customs dictate, she thanks Lord Rickon Stark and Lady Gilliane Glover for their hospitality. She then respectfully regarded your father and your half-brothers. You kept your head held high but avoided her gaze as she walked towards her carriage. 

Right before she reached there, she stopped in front of you. With nowhere else to look you looked at the princess. 

“I thank you for your company, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She grasped your hand in hers and you felt her discretely hand you something. “I wish to take you to Dragonstone if time allows it. I shall request you to be one of my ladies-in-waiting formally later on once I have reached King’s Landing.” 

Your eyes widened at her statement. The offer wasn’t an offer given to bastards such as yourself. They were given to daughters of second-rated houses so that they may learn under a daughter of a higher house. Not someone like you who belongs to no house. 

“I am honoured at your offer, princess, I pray for your safe travels.” You bowed your head as Rhaenyra nodded and made her way towards the carriage. 

You brought your hand to your back, hiding the item she handed to you discretely. 

You would later find out after the entire ordeal was over, that she had handed you a necklace of hers. It was a simple yet intricate necklace, one made of silver chain which held a trinket shaped like a three-headed dragon. You held the gesture close to your heart, thanking the old gods and the new that she did not push away your advancements. 

Lady Gilliane could only chuckle as she heard you tell what happened in Rhaenyra’s chambers. Though you did omit the details about the kiss. 

~

In the year that followed, Cregan Stark was born, two years after, your lady would give the realm another Stark heir. Though it was then the animosity between Lord Bennard as well as his sons, your half-brothers, and Cregan. 

You had assumed they thought the Winterfell seat would fall onto them, considering Lord Rickon Stark was old and had not had an heir yet. That was until Cregan and his younger brother. 

Seeing this, you did everything you could to protect the two of them from your father’s selfishness, knowing firsthand what his scheming was like. It got even worse at the birth of Sara Snow and Cregan’s insistence on keeping his little sister in his life. 

It wouldn’t be long after that when Lord Rickon Stark would travel to King’s Landing to pledge loyalty to Rhaenyra as heir to the throne. A part of you wished you could come with him, you wanted to see what Rhaenyra was like now. But another part of you knew you needed to stay in Winterfell and protect Lord Rickon’s children in his absence. 

When the time came and Lord Rickon passed, followed by Lady Gilliane and their youngest child, Cregan was far too young to rule. You could only watch in the background as your father took the seat until Cregan was of age. Though when he finally did, your father slowed to give the seat. 

You could feel tensions rise between them, tensions which could easily bleed into bloodshed. Though you had no sympathy nor love for any of your half-brothers or your father. You did not wish for their deaths, after all, they were family, whether you liked it or not. 

So, you came to Cregan with a proposition. Your help to get his seat back without unnecessary bloodshed which could tear Winterfell into two, in return for a seat in his council. It need not be official if he did not want Lords of different lands to wonder why a woman was counselling him. You just wanted him to make use of your mind and the ease that came with being a bastard who had no need to uphold a family name. 

He was quick to accept your proposition, having no reason to distrust you after the years you’ve spent together. The events which followed came in quick succession afterwards. You betrayed your father and half-brother, imprisoned them, and were quick to name Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell. In return, he officially gave you a spot in his council. 

Your life became quite different after that. With your new duties and responsibilities, you were quick to drown yourself in work and books. Filling your mind with knowledge and anything that may help your cousin in dealing with the tumultuous land that is the North. 

You had barely any time to think about Rhaenyra or anything considering the politics of King’s Landing, leaving that to Cregan as he left the inner workings of Winterfell to you. 

That is, until a dragon arrives in Winterfell. 

~

“Who is it?” You quickly asked Cregan, who despite his much younger age than you, had grown taller and stronger than you. 

“I assume either Aegon asking us to place our loyalty on him or one of Queen Rhaenyra’s sons.” You grinned. 

“You called her queen,” you stated Cregan’s words, who rolled his eyes, “I only hope it is not Aegon, if it is, I think we’ll have quite the sour visit.” 

Though your words were light, a part of you hoped it was one of Rhaenyra’s sons. At this point, you hadn’t seen her for too many years and a small hopeful part of you yearned to meet her once more. Or at the very least, see a semblance of her in the shape of her son. 

As Cregan wanted to greet the guest alone you excused yourself and returned to your work. There was no point in hoping for something that may not be true. But as you grabbed a piece of paper detailing the current stocks of wheat, your eyes dragged onto an ornate box neatly kept beside your bed. 

Where it has been for decades. 

Gritting your teeth and wondering if you should, your heart went against your mind and you stood from your table to reach for it. Holding the black and red box in your hands you, once again, debated on opening it. In the beginning, you would open the box and observe its content almost every day after you woke up and just before you slept. 

Now the box had stayed closed after Lord Rickon’s passing, considering you had to focus on Cregan and not your own silly fantasies. 

But today, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers danced on the latch before opening the box, within it a single object lays flat. The necklace was as beautiful as the day you received it. The dragons looking at you with its menacing eyes. You caressed it with a smile, reminiscing about a simpler time. 

You closed it back once you’ve wasted enough time and went back to your work. 

It was late at night once you finished your calculations. As always you brought your findings to Cregan’s study, it was late at night, you assumed he must’ve already finished his talks with the guest and had ushered whoever it was to rest. 

It brought you great surprise to open the doors of his study only to find him laughing with said guest. A bottle of expensive Dornish wine opened and drained of its contents on the table beside them. Seeing his dark curls, you assumed the young man in front of you now was Jacaerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s son. And not Aegon. 

Hearing the door open, Cregan was quick to look at who would dare enter without announcing themselves. Only immediately relaxing when he saw that it was you. With a smile he stood from where he sat, Jacaerys quickly followed suit. 

“This woman here is my advisor. She is my half-cousin, though I consider her almost like a sister.” He explained after introducing your name. 

“My lords, apologies for interrupting, I had brought the crop stocks you had asked for early this morning.” You motioned towards the papers you were currently holding. 

Cregan was quick to sober, he took the papers as you handed and placed them in a neat pile on his table. 

“Thank you, I will look through them as soon as I can-”

“You are her.” Both you and Cregan snapped your head towards Jacaerys’ voice, confused at his coded statement. Realising his mistake, Jacaerys shook his head, “Apologies, I meant that I did not expect you to match exactly the descriptions my mother told to me.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and so did Cregan’s. 

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, my mother, had asked me to relay a message to you if I were to find you. You are the Lady Snow, yes?” 

At the question, you stifled a chuckle, a sense of deja vu at your first meeting with Rhaenyra hitting you once again. 

“I am not a lady but yes, I suppose I am, unless you are referencing to Sara.” 

“No– My mother wanted to extend an invitation to you.” Cregan now stood straighter at Jacaerys words, brows furrowing.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, silently willing him to relax. Unfortunately for him, you had never told him about your quick friendship with Rhaenyra. So you assumed he thought Jacaerys’ statement sounded rather dangerous. 

“She said she wanted to honour her promise that she made years ago about taking you to Dragonstone.” 

Your eyes, along with Cregan’s, widened like plates. 

“What?” Cregan was the first to break the sudden silence. Though you were quick to hold his arm, signing silently to him that it wasn’t anything threatening. Despite the odd way Jacaerys speaking. 

“I’m–” you awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll be frank– I can’t believe she still remembered that. I– I have too much work here, summer is about to end and winter is coming. Perhaps,” you fiddled with your fingers your mind working in double time, “Perhaps, I’ll take up on your offer once this war is over. I trust my cousin followed the oath the late Lord Rickon made when swearing Princess Rhaenyra as heir?” 

Jacaerys and Cregan looked at each other for a bit before nodding, “Indeed I have.” 

You nodded and turned, “Then I shall take my leave.” 

“I’ll accompany you back to your bedchambers, dear cousin.” Cregan, ever the protective person, was quick to state. 

With a nod, you both turned to walk out the door, before you remembered something. Considering Cregan’s busy schedule and your own, you didn’t know when would be the last time you’d see Jacaerys. So you quickly went over towards him, taking off the necklace around your neck and handing it to him. 

“When you leave, I’d like for you to give this to the Queen, as a token of my gratitude.” You smiled and returned to where Cregan was once Jacaerys nodded and pocketed the necklace. 

Cregan watched with furrowed brows as the two of you walked away. 

“Why would you give him that? You’ve worn that necklace for as long as I remembered.” He asked once the two of you were out of earshot. 

“Do you recall ever seeing the pendant at the middle of the necklace?” 

He scoffed. 

“Never, you always wore it backwards.” 

“Precisely, I only want the princess to see the engravings.” 

Before Cregan could ask you to elaborate you had returned to your room. 

~

Amid chaos and tragedy, Rhaenyra lay on her bed alone. After sending Daemon off to deal with an army north of Dragonstone on Caraxes, she could hardly sleep thinking about the atrocities both she and Aegon had done. Blood was spilt on both sides of the coin now that the war was deep in the works. 

It felt like just yesterday that her dearest Lucerys had been killed by Aemond. When in reality it had been months pass now. 

Her hand mindlessly grabbed at the necklace on her bedside table. The shivering cold silver grounded her to reality. It reminded her of the North and its cold. But when she turned the pendant around. A wry smile crept onto her features. 

There engraved in the pendant was the carving of a wolf, surrounded with snowdrops. 

Holding the pendant tight in the palm of her hands, she swore to win the war, take her rightful place as Queen, and finally fulfil her promise to you. 

[inkareds]

Thank you sm!!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it and yeag heartbreakingly beautiful was the aim 😋😋😋

Who We Are

Jacaerys Velaryon

7/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list (tba) // ko-fi // taglist

✧.* word count: 6.9k ✧.* genre: angst w/ comfort ✧.* warnings: female reader (mainly bcs it's canon universe and I wasn't sure about the gn version of Queen), heavy spoilers for what happens in the book but it still is canon divergence

"You and I burned out our steam // Chasing someone else's dream // How can somethin' be so much heavier // But so much less than it seems // Darling, we sacrificed // We gave our time to somethin' undefined"

War changes people

as always lyric breakdown at the end, also this took a while to write lmao, I feel like Jace is kinda ooc but I'm not sure

“Husband, you should rest,” you whisper bringing the fur-lined coat your dearest Jacaerys had placed on the chair beside him over his shoulders. 

He rouses from his sleep at your soft voice and the weight of the warm cloth. You smile softly as Jacaerys opens his eyes, slightly dazed from the clear lack of sleep. Leaning your body so that your face may be levelled with his own that’s laid atop his hands on the table, you pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. 

“Shall I lead us back to our bedchambers or shall I make us both tea for the long night ahead?” You spoke and lightly brushed some of his hair away. 

Ever since his travel to Winterfell, he’s been growing out his hair more and more. His dark curls framed his face in a way that made you positively melt. 

As if finally registering your words, Jacaerys shook his head and straightened his body from his hunched-over self from falling asleep. You take a few steps back as he stretches, groaning at his aching muscles from the uncomfortable position. 

“Neither,” he groans out, his voice dry and deep from the slumber he was in. Your eyebrows quirked at his answer, “I will make myself tea and you shall return to bed.” Jacaerys explained, causing a frown to bring itself to your lips. 

“It is our bed and you shall join me or I will not go at all.” You defiantly cross your arms. 

Jacaerys sighs and leans back forward on his elbows, bringing a hand to his temple. The only light illuminating either of you was the morbid amount of candles strewn around to keep the room bright even in the darkest night. Jacaerys found himself in his solitary room, working day and night with his commanders and councilmembers. Before meeting with his mother and doing the same thing. 

Day and night he has worked tirelessly. You suspected this of course, with the war at its course, you knew he would spend more time consulting with his men, mother, papers, and swords than you. You did not mind it whatsoever until you noticed it had started taking a toll on him. 

Every time you saw him, whether it was in the brightness of sunlight or the darkness of moonlight, his eyes grew more sunken and tired. Though he kept his body physically strong and you were sure he was getting rest here and there after you have long slumbered. You worried for his mind and sanity. 

You had hoped after Lucerys’ death and his return from Winterfell he’d be more willing to your coaxing to rest. Yet, the contrary had ensued. 

“I do not wish to argue,” he looked up at you with desperation and for a second you almost relented. If only he didn’t look so tired. 

“I do not wish for it either, but you must rest Jacaerys. You have slaved yourself in this solitary world of yours for many moons.” You exasperatedly tried to explain to him without sounding like you were whining. “I doubt you’ve even grieved for dearest Lucerys-” 

“What do you know about how I have grieved for my brother?!” he slammed the table and rose. 

For any other women and perhaps many men, they would back down. Cower at the usually cordial and respectful though stern heir’s sudden rise in tone. But you knew Jacaerys Velaryon. You’ve known him almost your entire life. You’ve fallen for every part of him, the good, the bad, and the troubled. Of which he had many, contrary to the smallfolk’s belief. 

Jacaerys was tired and as such his patience was at a short fuse. You simply had to be understanding. It is your duty as his wife to do so. 

“I apologise for inferring as such, my love. You know I do not mean it that way.” You reached out to touch him, bringing your palm to his cheek. 

His brows furrowed and his frown deepened but he did not pull away from your affections. Even closes his eyes at the feeling of a kind touch after all the brutalities he’s had to think of for the upcoming battles and scuffles likely to happen in war. 

“I mean it in the way that for your sake you should take some time. I am not asking for weeks or even days. I’m asking for a night. A single night when you can sleep in my arms and I could comfort you whole. If by daylight I rouse and you’re already long gone I will not fault you. I know you have much to do. But tonight, rest with me.” 

Throughout your words you brought a hand to Jacaerys’ chest, bringing your bodies closer and feeling his heartbeat. At times the feel or sound of it was the only thing keeping you calm amidst the horrors of war. The fact that he was alive was much more than enough for you. But you do not wish of him to bleed dry for the throne. You wish for him to thrive and he could only do as such if he rested. 

After a soft silence, Jacaerys nodded. He turned towards you and gave you a warm smile, one that made your heart flutter and your mind remembers over and over again the boy you fell in love with so long ago. 

“Perhaps you are right, all of this can wait for tomorrow.” Your smile widened at his words, though he opened his mouth once more to say something, “I- I did not mean to raise my voice at you.” 

He looked deep into your eyes as he said it, begging you to believe him. Of course, you did. 

“My beloved Jacaerys, I know.” 

Jacaerys let out a sigh of relief before reaching to grab both your hands in his and bringing your knuckles to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on it. 

“You are far too kind my sweetheart.” 

Just like that the two of you would leave the room for your bedchambers. For the first time in a while, you finally slept at the same time as your dearest husband. Though if only you knew it would be a very long time before the next time you would do so. 

As the days bled together, you found yourself almost as busy as Jacaerys, though with things much less important than the things which busied him. Due to Lucerys’ death and the impending war, most if not all of the royal family are busy with preparations for the battles up ahead. 

Daemon wanted to quickly arrange battle plans after battle plans, engrossing himself in the meticulous training of his men. Rhaenyra found herself on a balancing beam of being the queen of the realm and a grieving mother. Jacaerys took many of Rhaenyra’s duties after Lucerys’ death, giving his mother ample time to rest. Baela and Rhaena didn’t fare any better, as they grieved, Baela would mount her dragon more and more. 

Many of the mundane yet needed royal duties fell onto the second in command, whether that were Rhaenyra’s councilmen, Jacaerys’ councilmen, or even you. As Jacaerys wife, you hold a significant amount of power. Especially after the people’s oath to Rhaenyra as Queen. More often than not, when it came to the mundane day-to-day business that needed to be managed but wasn’t as important as gold or wars, the men who dealt with them reported to you. 

It wasn’t hard work, many of it had to do with the construction of buildings here and there. Food supplies and trade routes to ensure a stable economy. Communication between the lower houses which had less priority than the major houses. Those things laid on you to then present to Jacaerys, who would only hear the abridged version, relaying that version to his mother. 

It kept your mind busy but your heart heavy. 

As what little time you had been able to spend with Jacaerys had now been dwindled into nothing. You suspect you’d have to get used to it, once Jacaerys rises to the throne, you’d have to deal with so much more as queen consort. Especially considering the state of the Kingdom after the war is over would likely not be as stable as it once was. 

But it didn’t mean it weighed any less in your heart. You missed your husband, you missed sleeping in his arms, you missed his lighthearted smile and small chuckles, and you missed telling him about your day. You missed the time when both of you were children and hearing all the stories of Old Valryia he’d learnt from his mother and the Maesters. 

You felt as though your relationship with Jacaerys was straining. Not by either of your faults but more by the lack of interactions the two of you have shared outside of tense-filled talks of war strategies. 

It fully ripped apart after the Battle at Rook’s Nest. Rhaenys Velaryon and Melys were no more. 

At her funeral, you held onto Jacaerys’ hand as Rhaenyra called for Syrax to burn her. You felt Jacaerys hold your hand tightly as he forced himself to hold a brave face. In consolation, you could only hold his hand against both of yours and offer some solace. 

The events which followed after concerned you. 

“Where are you going?” 

One day, you find Jacaerys quickly putting on his riding gear at midday in your shared bedchambers. You hadn’t expected him to be taking a break from the work and ride his dragon and so you knew he was going somewhere. 

“To meet Addam of Hull,” he replied curtly, securing his clothing against himself. 

“What for?” You wanted to help so you took the courtesy to grab his gloves and hand them to him. A small thank you was his response as he put it on. 

“I have made an agreement with the queen and the sea snake, we need as many dragonriders as possible. We have the dragons, we do not have nearly as many riders. Daemon calls them dragonseeds, potential Targaryen bastard children who have sworn to my mother. The deal was if they successfully bonded with a dragon they would be honoured a noble title.” 

Your brows furrowed. 

“Are you going alone?” 

“Yes, if this is true then I need to convince him. Asking a man to put his life on the line to try and ride a dragon is not something easily asked for.” 

That was when you stopped him. Jacaerys was rushing and at this point, he had finished preparing himself for the ride but you had stepped in the way between the door and himself. 

“And put yourself in danger? Jacaerys, are you positively sure that this Addam of Hull is who he says he is? What if this was a trap set by Aegon or Alicent? You can’t go alone. If you are hurt then at best we lose a strong dragon rider for some moons due to your injuries, at worst I may lose you.”

Jacaerys sighs but he can see some truth in what you were saying. He was taking a gamble by meeting Addam alone, but during his discussion with his family both he and Daemon agreed that finding these dragonseeds found priority over many other things. If the Greens caught wind of their tactic they may either steal it for their own or intercept their means to do so. 

By meeting Addam directly it allows Jacaerys some semblance of control over the strategy he first brought up. 

Control he’s been lacking ever since the people closest to him had started dying like flies. 

So he placed his hand on your cheek and leaned to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I hear your concern, but I am confident in this. Have some trust in your beloved husband.” He chuckled into your hair and pulled away to stare deep into your concern-laden eyes. 

Angling himself to press a chaste kiss into your lips, you practically melt in his arms. The moment was intimate and soft. If not for the feeling of harsh leather underneath your fingertips that laid on his body becoming a stark reminder of his next actions. 

When he pulled away there was a short silence before you moved out of the way with gritted teeth. For a moment you wished he would listen to your concerns for his safety more. Time and time again you find yourself wondering if Jacaerys was plunging into danger he would not be able to pull himself out of. 

He is not Daemon Targaryen, who you’re convinced has taken the favour of some god in return for the ability to not die despite the many perilous battles he’s been in. You hope Jacaerys understands that. 

A couple of hours later he would return in the afternoon, though this time with more bruises than he left with. 

You gritted your teeth as the maester recounted to you what your husband refused to tell you. After his return you had only a glimpse of his scuffed-up wear, only to be quickly brushed aside as he makes his way to the dragonpit with Addam of Hull. The maester who treated him, whom you had to quite literally threaten to fess up the injuries of your husband had informed you of what happened. 

Addam was who he said he was, recounts have found records of his Targaryen lineage. But in the process, the two of them had unknowingly walked into a scuffle with the King’s Guard who pursued both Jacaerys and Addam until the two could leave on Vermax. 

When the deep night came Jacaerys found you still awake in your bedchambers, unable to sit still or do anything until you could speak to him. At the sight of you, Jacaerys sighs, he knows what is coming. 

“Wife, please.” 

“I told you to be careful-”

“I know-”

“I told you you could get hurt-”

“I know-”

“What if you had been badly injured?!”

“My love, I know.” Jacaerys, with the patience of a saint and the understanding that comes from also being in the same position as you were in the past. 

He knew what it felt like to be a bystander in the violence of life, he watched his mother get cut to shield him and his brother from his step-grandmother. Only e to watch as she winces at getting stitched. And so he knows what it is like to be worried. To feel helpless. 

“I know I should’ve listened to you,” he nears you and holds your face in both his hands, looking down on you with so much love in his eyes that you could only offer him silence in return for his devotion. “But had I done so, Addam of Hull may never have claimed Seasmoke.” 

Your eyes widened and slowly a smile crossed your features. 

“He did it? He claimed the dragon?” 

Jacaerys grins and nods with you as you’re filled with a renewed sense of hope. 

“Yes, we may win this war without much fight anyways, my love.” 

Despite your clear hesitation in all the manners of how Jacaerys handled his wars, at least that night he was safe and sound and in your arms again. 

The months that followed would go as such, you’d watch in horror as Jacaerys would take more and more risks for the crown. The last strike in which you wondered if he was going too far was when Viserys II and Aegon III were attacked. Had you not begged and pleaded for him to wait a little longer for Addam to finish gearing up to help him, feeling he was jumping into danger unprepared, Jacaerys would’ve died. 

Arguments after arguments followed after that. Especially after Viserys II died in the Battle of the Gullet and the sacking of Spicetown causing the death of many of Corlys’ men. 

After that, every decision that followed Jacaerys’ command seemed to go further and further into danger. Even going so far as to recruit three more dragonseeds, you distrusted all of them. They had no incentive to put their loyalties to Rhaenyra, their only incentive was noble-hood, but what would happen if the scales tipped in Aegon’s favour? Would they switch sides then?

You tried warning Jacaerys repeatedly, only for him to brush you off over and over again. Even mentioned once that you had no idea of the wars that were being played and not to meddle in his strategies. 

You kept your silence to your husband after that. 

Your anger would come in tenfolds when Ulf the White and Hugh Hammer would betray Rhaenyra in favour of Daeron at the sacking of Tumbleton. It would be this unbridled anger that would cause the rift of your marriage to tear apart at its seams. 

Jacaerys seldom slept in your shared bedchambers, choosing instead to rest in his own, figuring any time he would come there, arguments would follow. 

Later into the war when Jacaerys suggested his mother march into King’s Landing while he stakes his post in Dragonstone, you, once more, protested. There was a giant risk in what they were doing. The people of King’s Landing have long been disillusioned by the throne ever since the war started, who to say they would open their arms to her this time? 

Not to mention the bloodshed that follows her, they would become wary. What would happen then?

And as always, your protests were pushed away. At first, Jacaerys wanted to take it into account, but after Daemon agreed to the decision and his own decision to battle Aemond, you realised you had no room to speak in the council of men. 

Disaster strikes once more when Sunfyre would lead to the death of Rhaenyra and Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son, had been taken as a hostage. You had tried to see the silver lining of it all, knowing Jacaerys was falling deeper and deeper into his grief, you wanted to see the hope at the end of it. 

“Husband,” Jacaerys didn’t respond. 

He sat with his hands cradling his head and mess of hair, covering himself from you.

You had fought tooth and nail against his guards to let you into his office, one which he had instructed them to do anything it took to prevent you from entering. You can see why. He was in a state of disarray. 

Papers were strewn about, so much so that you worried about the lack of fire safety in the room, considering the candles were still lit. There was spilt wine on the ground, some long dried into the cracks of the wooden flooring. The place was a mess and in the middle of it all cowered Jacaerys. 

“Jacaerys.” You called with a stronger tone this time, making your way to the man. 

Jacaerys finally lifts his head to see you. His hair was matted and his eyes were red from crying. He looked up at you with so much desperation that you could not stop your legs from rushing towards him and embracing him.

You fall to your knees as your arms cradle his body which now folds itself into his knees once more. 

“Oh, my dear.” You whisper when he begins to weep. 

His body shook with every rough exhalation. You held him tight against yourself, caressing his hair and back as no more words were exchanged between the two of you that night. 

The next morning, you had hoped that small intimate moment you shared in his grief would bridge back your relationship. 

How wrong you were. 

Jacaerys barges into your shared bedchambers for the first time in many moons and immediately strides towards your desk. Scattering papers around trying to look for something. 

“Jacaerys,” you quickly placed down your book as you were reading before he entered, “What are you doing?” 

When he did not answer and instead became more erratic in his actions, displacing mountains of paperwork that you had tirelessly organised and went through, you quickly stood up. 

“Jacaerys! Enough! What are you looking for?!” You rushed towards him and pulled him away from your desk, clearly in a state of disarray now. 

Jacaerys lets himself be pushed by you away from the table but his eyes still refuse to meet yours. Choosing instead to rake over the scattered papers for the Seven knows what. 

“What are you looking for?! I can assure you I can find it for you without you needing to disorganise my day’s work!” 

Finally, he speaks, “I’m looking for records detailing King’s Landing.” Your eyes widened. 

You did not have much paperwork containing the capital, what you do have though are trade routes, smallfolk routes, tax details, and generally things unneeded for a man leading a war. Though something someone would need if they planned on taking over King’s Landing. You had given a report filled with it just weeks before Rhaenyra’s attempt at sieging the capital. 

“No,” you whispered. 

“You said you could find the papers, where is it.” 

“Jacaerys, don’t be idiotic.” 

“I don’t need your input right now, I just need those records.” 

“Jacaerys, by the sevens, look at your wife!” You held both his shoulders and forced him to look at you. “What are you doing?” 

“I will not make the same mistakes as my mother once did, I plan on conducting this plan through diplomacy. Aegon is dying, my brother is held hostage, and both Aemond and Vhagar are dead. Not to mention Stark’s men marching into King’s Landing as we speak. I plan on joining Cregan and taking the throne.” 

He explains, his eyes weary and his body tense. This was the longest conversation the two of you have held for quite some time and you wished it was for a different topic. Though every inch of your heart begged your mouth not to speak what you were thinking, your logical mind took over, as it always does. 

“Are you mad?!” In three words, you see Jacaerys’ facial expression morph. His brows furrow and his eyes widen before quickly steeling and looking away from you once again. 

“You know what they call her? Do you know what the smallfolk call your mother, the Black Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen? They call her Maegor with tits. She reigned over a short moment before Sunfyre killed her and yet they still like her to Maegor the Cruel. How do you think they will respond to you with Stark’s men marching into the city?!” 

“Do you not trust me?” His voice lowers as he begs you to understand where he comes from. 

But you are an intelligent woman, a far too intelligent woman. It was one of the biggest reasons Jacaerys had fallen for you all those years past. But being an intelligent woman meant having your mind control your words and not your heart. 

“Trust you!?” You exclaimed, exasperated and untrusting of him, “Jacaerys, every decision you have made I have advised you to do something else or alter those plans of yours. Yet all you ever say is to trust you and when I do what I say could happen does happen!” 

And that was the moment Jacaerys breaks. 

“Advise?! All you have done was criticise me! What do you wish for me to say?! That I was abysmally wrong? That you were right?! That I should let you be the one to make all the decisions now?!”

“That’s not what I’m-”

“Every time I look at you I can’t help but feel your judgement rain on me. As if with your eyes you are telling me I told you so, over and over again. I can’t stand it!” 

“Jacaerys, I don’t-”

“Enough! Be quiet! Just- please- be silent for once.” 

He turns around, his back facing you as your hands drop to your sides. 

“Perhaps,” he starts, “Had I married someone who would actually advise me and not criticise me I would’ve listened to her. If I had known our union would’ve caused me this much strain I would’ve thought twice.” 

You felt the entire weight of the Seven Kingdoms break your heart at that moment. You would be dumb to think that the war hadn’t put a tremendous strain on your relationship. But to have him so brazenly admit regretting marrying you was something you never thought would happen. 

Logically, you understood that perhaps Jacaerys was just high-strung, he was stressed, and under a disastrous amount of pressure and grief. And that he did not mean his words. But that did little to bandage your already weary heart from breaking even further. 

The countless arguments, and the intense workload with no one to vent to, weighed on you. The only reason you had restrained yourself from woe was the understanding that Jacaerys had it worse. You dealt with numbers and produce. He dealt with lives and blood. You were not the same. 

Perhaps it was time for you to understand that. Wholly and fully. 

“It is still in the queen’s small council chamber.” You steadied your voice, holding any cracks in your tone from the heartbreak you were experiencing. 

Jacaerys didn’t acknowledge it, simply walking out of the room. 

That night and all nights after, you would spend your nights alone, crying. 

After that day, you would spend the rest of your time with Jacaerys or any of his councilmen with your head hung low. Forcing your contentment on the mundanity of your work of numbers and produce. Unaware of the few times Jacaerys has tried to reach for you before his siege. 

~

The siege was a success, they called it the Hour of the Wolf. Cregan Stark and Jacaerys Velaryon were able to take over the capital and after many more days of stabilisation over his rule more events followed. The sudden reappearance of Viserys and Aegon’s, son of Alicent’s, sudden poisoning by Corlys, to name a few. 

After all was said and done, Jacaerys called for the remaining royals, mainly Rhaena and yourself, in Dragonstone to return to King’s Landing for a celebration. 

Jacaerys would proclaim himself with a speech amongst the small folk, hoping to rebuild his image and reputation, afterwards food would be prepared for them. Nobles would also be in attendance but during the feast they and the royal family would be ushered to a much more private celebration where hopes of rebuilding relationships and easing tensions would rise high. 

You felt antsy over the entire ordeal. Not that you thought the idea was bad. You believed directly speaking towards the small folk would show his down-to-earth nature and create a friendlier personality for the normal people to aspire once more. Showing that the crown was something to be adored again instead of ridiculed and hated. 

What you were worried about was the scale of it all, as it stood many of the men that would be guarding the nobles and Jacaerys were Stark’s men. Which meant utter safety and loyalty as they listened to no one other than Cregan. But that did not mean all of it were Stark men. You weren’t privy to the details of it all but you knew some guards were just that, King’s Guards. Ones you did not properly trust. 

To play on the caring and courageous king, Jacaerys needed to be branded as a good husband as well. To do this, he mustn't start any rumours amongst the staff of the keep that you and he had yet to speak to each other properly ever since the argument you had in your bedchambers. 

So, you must share a space before leaving for the festivities. Thankfully, you were not expected to be in his vicinity while your handmaidens dressed and dolled you. As queen consort, you must also make a new image of yourself. Thankfully, your image hadn’t been sullied amongst your people, considering you were well-loved in Dragonstone. But that did not mean the smallfolk did not harbour any sense of irk for you. 

You must be dressed beautifully and courtly. 

As you stared into the mirror in your room, you took a deep breath. You looked beautiful. 

You did not have much reason to dress properly during the war. After all, your duties were done within the confines of your table. But now you looked ecstatically mesmerising. You only hope Jacaerys thinks the same way. 

“My lady, the king is waiting for you.” Your handmaiden muses with a smile on her face.

You could only respond with a wry smile and a nod as she begins leading you to Jacaerys’ bedchambers. To her, she had dressed you so beautifully for your husband, she must be giddy with pride and happiness. If only she knew the truth, you wondered if she would be disappointed. 

The pit in your stomach only grew as you neared the room, his words echoed in your head in a way that you wished it would stop. It festered and nurtured the growing insecurities within yourself. But before you could think more of it you had arrived. 

The guards open the doors and you make your way into where Jacaerys is, hearing the small giggle of your handmaiden before the door closes behind you. 

His back was facing you and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of the past. You focused on your breathing again. Not seeing the way Jacaerys fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt, blazed with nerves on how to speak to you again after so long. He wishes to apologise but doesn’t know where to start. Especially considering your sudden retreat. To which he does not blame you. 

Jacaerys slowly turns, opening his mouth to say something. But you unknowingly cut him off without looking at him. 

“My King, we should get going, it would do wonders if we could greet the nobles before the speech.” You explained matter-of-factly. 

Formal, guarded, stiff, and cold. Jacaerys bites the inside of his cheeks at hearing you address him with his title and not a term of endearment as he was so used to hearing. He understands he deserves it. 

No matter, what he thinks, the war is done and though more work will now follow him. The burden of blood will no longer follow him. He has a lifetime to beg for your forgiveness. 

So, he clears his throat. 

“Of course.” He offers his arm, half expecting you to refuse it. 

Surprisingly, you took it, placing your stiff palm on the inside of his elbow. You felt awkward touching him in such an intimate manner and he could tell. 

His eyes looked towards you beside him as you looked forward to the doors, waiting for him to start walking. He was transfixed by the sadness in your eyes, the sunken way they sat on your face, had you been having trouble sleeping? 

His thoughts were quickly cut off by your sudden laughter. 

“Oh, husband! Enough, we must leave now, we may continue this later tonight!” You exclaim loudly with a torrent of giggles. 

Jacaerys brows furrowed in confusion but then he realises when you start walking and the door opened. You were playing your role. The role he asked you to play. The quiet queen. 

Your giggles didn’t stop until the two of you were walking towards the carriage which would take you to where the event was held. In a moment, Jacaerys sees the way your face drops from the faux laughs and smiles. Your expression was sullen and cold once more when you reached the carriage. 

Jacaerys wanted to say something but wondered if now wasn’t the right time. So he stayed quiet until the two of you reached your destination. 

In which your faux smile returned as you leaned against him in the many eyes of small folk and nobles. 

The speech was a success, the people cheered for him as you stiffly clapped your hands at your husband’s brilliant words. Baela was the only one to notice your discomfort. Right before the nobles would be ushered towards the other location, she pulls you aside. 

“Are you alright?” she holds your hands. 

“Of course, just, worried.” you confessed. 

“About?” 

“This is too open, I- I’m worried something may happen.” 

Jacaerys, intending to look for his wife, accidentally overhears the private conversation. His jaw tightened at your words. A part of him wonders if despite the success of the siege, you still think of his failures as stronger than his successes. 

He wanted to prove you wrong. 

During the feast, you played your role perfectly, attached to the hip with your ‘dearest’ husband. You laugh as he tells stories and jokes, all the while your hand stiffens and freezes any time you see a guard or a noble acting out of the ordinary. To which Jacaerys always senses, as you are holding to him after all. 

This pushed him to be bolder in trying to prove you wrong. To show you that there were no dangers to his plan and that this event was spotless. Perhaps then he could apologise to you. 

It was on a specific instance that he felt you tense up the most. The two of you had begun a conversation with Lord Baratheon and his wife when the four of you started walking away from the crowds, considering how loud people were getting as they emptied their cups more and more. 

Though the conversation was getting dull, Jacaerys had continued humouring Lord Baratheon’s insistence on continuing to talk. As he wanted to show you that there was nothing wrong. He should’ve seen how the Baratheon was slowly walking the four of them to a secluded area. He saw the way your eyes wandered everywhere, not truly listening to what Lady Baratheon was saying. 

Jacaerys felt your hand squeeze his arm in warning, a simple sign to leave. One he did not listen. 

Until-

“Jacaerys!” 

It all happened in the blink of an eye, from behind a pillar a masked and cloaked man jumped from the darkness. Equipped with a poison-laden dagger, they proclaimed their loyalty to Aegon, Alicent’s son, as the one true king and went to drive the blade into Jacaerys. If not for you pushing him aside, he would’ve died. 

But in return, the blade stabbed deep into the middle of your chest, just below your ribs. The Lady Baratheon screamed, as your body collapsed to the ground, only for Lord Baratheon to take her hand and run. The scream brought the attention of the guards, who were quick to arrive at the scene and cut off their paths. 

Jacaerys falls to the ground to catch your body. 

He cradles your body against his own. Feeling the blood seeping through his fingertips. 

“No- no- no!” he mutters over and over again as he desperately tries to hold the wound in his hands. 

A pathetic attempt of trying to stop the blood from pouring out like a river of grief and pain. 

Your chest rose and fell as your breathing laboured. 

“Guards!” He yells out, “Call a maester, the queen has been stabbed!” He sees many of them scramble to follow his orders and yet he couldn’t focus on anything except the deafening ringing in his ears at his panic. 

His eyes began tearing up as you tried to squint your eyes at him to focus. 

“Jacaerys,” you mutter weakly placing your hand on top of his own which was still desperately pushing against your wound. 

The blood seeped through his fingers like water. There was no end. 

“Even in the brink of death you refuse to be quiet, please, conserve your might.” 

You flinch at his words, thinking back to the last time he mentioned being quiet. Not wanting to see the face of a man who has hurt you so in your death, you slowly turned your head towards the garden in front of you. 

Jacaerys, through his own watering eyes, realises his mistake. 

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. My love, you were always much better with words than I am. I speak before I think and I hurt you over and over again.” his tears began falling, “I’m sorry. Gods knows I’ve been wanting to say that to you the second our argument ended. But I didn’t know how I didn’t know how I could confess how much I loathed myself for saying those things in our room and how I regretted it without another argument. I didn’t mean any of it, my love, please.” 

At his confession, you slowly turned your head towards him again, and your vision began to blur. 

“I love you, please, please, don’t leave me.” He begged. 

You could faintly hear clattering and rushing, armour clanging into one another as you assumed guards were running with a maester. 

“I love you, please.” Sobs wracked through Jacaerys’ body, “I’m sorry.” And your heart broke once more seeing him so pained. 

For the first time in a long time, you wished your worries were wrong, that what Jacaerys had said in the past was true. That you were being far too untrusting over him. As much as you didn’t want to die, there was one thing you didn’t want to happen more. You didn’t want Jacaerys to lose another person he deeply cared for. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers over and over again into your hair as he leans to press kisses all over the crown of your head. 

With what little energy you had left, you whispered, “It’s okay. I forgive you. I love you.” You wish you could lift your hand and cradle his face as you used to do. He used to love it when you did that. But you found it impossible to move. 

Soon enough, you found it impossible to focus on his voice, then his face, then the ground you were lying on, then the world around you. 

Not a second later, Jacaerys sees the light leave your eyes and what little family he has left from his youth is now taken from him as he is left to weep and sob on the cold ground. Completely unaware of the nobles in the area watching the heartbreaking scene after rushing there after hearing a ruckus. 

~

His plan was a success, after all, Jacaerys plan worked. The speech and the feast which followed repaired his image unlike anything else could. Though the feast did most of the work. 

Rumours and stories spread around like wildfire over the heartbreaking scene of the newly crowned king holding his dead wife on the ground. Refusing to let her go, forcing the guards to physically pull him away from the body. 

Any semblance of doubt within the smallfolk that the king was a heartless monster who warred and sieged the capital was gone in a week. In its place was sympathy as they saw themselves who had lost family or friends to the war, in the grieving king who had lost his beloved wife. 

Though Jacaerys wished, for the first time, that he was wrong. That the plan didn’t work. That it wasn’t considered one of his successes as a councilmember would later say. He wished he was wrong and the feast was an abysmal failure. If only that meant you would sleep in your shared bed one more time. 

Just as you had after the argument, Jacaerys would spend the rest of his life as king, alone in his bed, crying. 

~

“Jeez, you okay?” Jace suddenly felt a hand wipe away at his cheeks. 

His eyes immediately jolt open, wide and confused. 

“Woah, calm down, you were crying in your sleep so I thought you were having a bad dream or something.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion, a bad dream? He couldn’t remember. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

Finally, his mind snapped into his reality. Jace blinked a few more times before staring at you, your head propped on the palm of your hand as you balanced on your elbow looking down at him. 

“Nah.” He shook his head, before grasping your body into his arms and pulling you back down into his embrace. 

“Shit!” You exclaimed, not expecting the sudden movement. 

All before you giggled again and wrapped his body against yours, one of your hands absentmindedly reaching to play with his curls. 

“Did I tell you how much I like it when you grow out your hair?” You absentmindedly asked. 

Jace hummed a yup into the crook of your neck causing you to laugh. 

He almost pouted when you pulled away to look at him, one of your hands cradling his cheek as he leaned into your touch. 

“So what was it? A bad dream or something?” 

Jace shrugged, he couldn’t really remember. A sense of deja vu hit him. 

“Or something.” he shrugged before cuddling deeper into you and relinquishing himself to sleep. 

“Fucking hell, I bet in every lifetime you’re a handful to me.” 

He chuckled, “Maybe. But that means in every lifetime you’re stuck with me.” 

A part of you wanted to tease him and say ew, but you didn’t. Your heart willed your words to say something else, “I hope so,” you whisper placing a kiss on his forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responds before the two of you fall back asleep in your shared bedroom. 

Did u guys like the ending ;)))) I really like the idea of a rebirth but this time both parties are better versions of themselves. Anyw let's get to the lyric breakdown

I want to write something which references this song but backwards. The song starts with the lines, “Quietly, it slips through your fingers, love // Falling from you drop by drop // What I had left here I just held it tight // So someone with your eyes // Might come in time / To hold me like water // Or, Christ hold me like a knife.” This is the beginning of the song that references Hozier wanting not to lose something but by holding it tighter, like water, it slips further away. It's too late like a wound you only clasp when you realise you’re losing too much blood. In the second verse, “You and I burned out our steam // Chasing someone else’s dream // How can something be so much heavier // But so much less than what it seems // Darling, we sacrificed // We gave our time to something undefined // This phantom life sharpens like an image // But it sharpens like a knife.” This second verse I want to be explored at the beginning of my writing. 

Jacaerys and the Reader love each other dearly but because of the war, they are pushed too far away from each other. The Reader is logical and smart like Jacaerys, but because of this fact, they don’t realise that Jacaerys needs emotional support more than military support. Jacaerys far too stressed out by the war doesn’t realise that the Reader is just trying to help him. It all comes to hell the more people die because Jacaerys is given more and more responsibility and the Reader only wants to help by carrying the burden with him, something they don’t realise that Jace doesn’t need. It’s a whole lotta miscommunication mess with two semi-selfish people who just want to help. 

Like the first part of the song, Jacaerys tries to hold the wound but it doesn’t work, the more he puts pressure the more blood seeps through. By the end of this section, he looks back to the throne, something he now doesn’t know if he wants or something he believes he wants as the person he loves isn’t with him anymore. Because this song references metamorphosis at the beginning of the album from De Selby part 1, I don’t want to just end it here. This is the end of the canon world of Jacaerys Velaryon but not the end of the story. Suddenly a uni-aged Jacaerys Velaryon wakes up and finds he’s in the arms of the Reader. He remembers he was dreaming something (his past life) but he doesn’t actually remember what it was. But in this life, there are hints of both him and the Reader being better versions of themselves. The Reader offers emotional support and Jacaerys listens to them. 

[inkareds]

✧.* BEHIND THE COUNTER ✧.* " upcoming works and wips "

nav // ko-fi // taglist valid until july 2024

✨ - personal favourites 🍾 - requested

This is where you will find my upcoming works and current wips for the month. A new "behind the counter" post will be posted monthly (if I'm active lmao) and within said month it will be updated accordingly!

Feel free to comment to be tagged in any of the specific works!

✧ ˚ · . dc

: ̗̀ Abstract (Psychopomp) - Wally West unreal unearth event one shot

"I remember the view // Streetlights in the dark blue // The moment I knew // I'd no choice but to love you"

: ̗̀ First Light - Dick Grayson unreal unearth event one shot

"The sky set to burst // The gold and the rust // The colour erupts // You filling my cup // The sun coming up // Like I lived my whole life"

✧ ˚ · . marvel

: ̗̀ none planned

✧ ˚ · . hotd

: ̗̀ To Someone from a Warm Climate - Rhaenyra Targaryen w/ fem reader unreal unearth event one shot

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

[inkareds]

✧.* RED WINE ✧.*

" hotd masterlist "

nav // ko-fi (this masterlist goes from oldest to newest posted)

✨ - personal favourite 🐙 - requested

last updated: 20/06/24

Please check my list of characters in the nav before requesting as I do not take requests for some of these characters

✧ ˚ · . daemon targaryen

: ̗̀  I, Carrion - unreal unearth event one shot

"Leave it now, I am sky-bound // If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me // We'll float away, but if we fall // I only pray, don't fall away from me"

: ̗̀  more coming soon

✧ ˚ · . rhaenyra targaryen

: ̗̀  coming soon

✧ ˚ · . aegon targaryen

: ̗̀  first time - unreal unearth event one shot

"Some part of me must have died // The first time you called me baby // And some part of me came alive // The first time you called me baby // These days I think I owe my life // To flowers that were left here by my mother // Ain't that like them? To give life to you again"

: ̗̀  more coming soon

✧ ˚ · . aemond targaryen

: ̗̀  homemade dumplings - modern! one shot ✨️

Aemond Targaryen grew up filthy rich, which means he didn't have to worry about doing any of the menial day-to-day stuff you seem to like so much. That includes cooking and buying groceries.

: ̗̀  eat your young - modern! unreal unearth event one shot NSFW

"Seven new ways that you can eat your young // Come and get some // Skinnin' the children for war drum"

: ̗̀  more coming soon

✧ ˚ · . helaena targaryen

: ̗̀  coming soon

✧ ˚ · . jacaerys velaryon

: ̗̀  who we are - unreal unearth event one shot

"You and I burned out our steam // Chasing someone else's dream // How can somethin' be so much heavier // But so much less than it seems // Darling, we sacrificed // We gave our time to somethin' undefined"

: ̗̀ more coming soon

✧ ˚ · . lucerys velaryon

: ̗̀  coming soon

✧ ˚ · . ser harwin strong

: ̗̀  coming soon

✧ ˚ · . ser criston cole

: ̗̀  coming soon

✧ ˚ · . alicent hightower

: ̗̀  coming soon

[inkareds]

Who We Are

Jacaerys Velaryon

7/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.9k ✧.* genre: angst w/ comfort ✧.* warnings: female reader (mainly bcs it's canon universe and I wasn't sure about the gn version of Queen), heavy spoilers for what happens in the book but it still is canon divergence

"You and I burned out our steam // Chasing someone else's dream // How can somethin' be so much heavier // But so much less than it seems // Darling, we sacrificed // We gave our time to somethin' undefined"

War changes people

as always lyric breakdown at the end, also this took a while to write lmao, I feel like Jace is kinda ooc but I'm not sure

“Husband, you should rest,” you whisper bringing the fur-lined coat your dearest Jacaerys had placed on the chair beside him over his shoulders. 

He rouses from his sleep at your soft voice and the weight of the warm cloth. You smile softly as Jacaerys opens his eyes, slightly dazed from the clear lack of sleep. Leaning your body so that your face may be levelled with his own that’s laid atop his hands on the table, you pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. 

“Shall I lead us back to our bedchambers or shall I make us both tea for the long night ahead?” You spoke and lightly brushed some of his hair away. 

Ever since his travel to Winterfell, he’s been growing out his hair more and more. His dark curls framed his face in a way that made you positively melt. 

As if finally registering your words, Jacaerys shook his head and straightened his body from his hunched-over self from falling asleep. You take a few steps back as he stretches, groaning at his aching muscles from the uncomfortable position. 

“Neither,” he groans out, his voice dry and deep from the slumber he was in. Your eyebrows quirked at his answer, “I will make myself tea and you shall return to bed.” Jacaerys explained, causing a frown to bring itself to your lips. 

“It is our bed and you shall join me or I will not go at all.” You defiantly cross your arms. 

Jacaerys sighs and leans back forward on his elbows, bringing a hand to his temple. The only light illuminating either of you was the morbid amount of candles strewn around to keep the room bright even in the darkest night. Jacaerys found himself in his solitary room, working day and night with his commanders and councilmembers. Before meeting with his mother and doing the same thing. 

Day and night he has worked tirelessly. You suspected this of course, with the war at its course, you knew he would spend more time consulting with his men, mother, papers, and swords than you. You did not mind it whatsoever until you noticed it had started taking a toll on him. 

Every time you saw him, whether it was in the brightness of sunlight or the darkness of moonlight, his eyes grew more sunken and tired. Though he kept his body physically strong and you were sure he was getting rest here and there after you have long slumbered. You worried for his mind and sanity. 

You had hoped after Lucerys’ death and his return from Winterfell he’d be more willing to your coaxing to rest. Yet, the contrary had ensued. 

“I do not wish to argue,” he looked up at you with desperation and for a second you almost relented. If only he didn’t look so tired. 

“I do not wish for it either, but you must rest Jacaerys. You have slaved yourself in this solitary world of yours for many moons.” You exasperatedly tried to explain to him without sounding like you were whining. “I doubt you’ve even grieved for dearest Lucerys-” 

“What do you know about how I have grieved for my brother?!” he slammed the table and rose. 

For any other women and perhaps many men, they would back down. Cower at the usually cordial and respectful though stern heir’s sudden rise in tone. But you knew Jacaerys Velaryon. You’ve known him almost your entire life. You’ve fallen for every part of him, the good, the bad, and the troubled. Of which he had many, contrary to the smallfolk’s belief. 

Jacaerys was tired and as such his patience was at a short fuse. You simply had to be understanding. It is your duty as his wife to do so. 

“I apologise for inferring as such, my love. You know I do not mean it that way.” You reached out to touch him, bringing your palm to his cheek. 

His brows furrowed and his frown deepened but he did not pull away from your affections. Even closes his eyes at the feeling of a kind touch after all the brutalities he’s had to think of for the upcoming battles and scuffles likely to happen in war. 

“I mean it in the way that for your sake you should take some time. I am not asking for weeks or even days. I’m asking for a night. A single night when you can sleep in my arms and I could comfort you whole. If by daylight I rouse and you’re already long gone I will not fault you. I know you have much to do. But tonight, rest with me.” 

Throughout your words you brought a hand to Jacaerys’ chest, bringing your bodies closer and feeling his heartbeat. At times the feel or sound of it was the only thing keeping you calm amidst the horrors of war. The fact that he was alive was much more than enough for you. But you do not wish of him to bleed dry for the throne. You wish for him to thrive and he could only do as such if he rested. 

After a soft silence, Jacaerys nodded. He turned towards you and gave you a warm smile, one that made your heart flutter and your mind remembers over and over again the boy you fell in love with so long ago. 

“Perhaps you are right, all of this can wait for tomorrow.” Your smile widened at his words, though he opened his mouth once more to say something, “I- I did not mean to raise my voice at you.” 

He looked deep into your eyes as he said it, begging you to believe him. Of course, you did. 

“My beloved Jacaerys, I know.” 

Jacaerys let out a sigh of relief before reaching to grab both your hands in his and bringing your knuckles to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on it. 

“You are far too kind my sweetheart.” 

Just like that the two of you would leave the room for your bedchambers. For the first time in a while, you finally slept at the same time as your dearest husband. Though if only you knew it would be a very long time before the next time you would do so. 

As the days bled together, you found yourself almost as busy as Jacaerys, though with things much less important than the things which busied him. Due to Lucerys’ death and the impending war, most if not all of the royal family are busy with preparations for the battles up ahead. 

Daemon wanted to quickly arrange battle plans after battle plans, engrossing himself in the meticulous training of his men. Rhaenyra found herself on a balancing beam of being the queen of the realm and a grieving mother. Jacaerys took many of Rhaenyra’s duties after Lucerys’ death, giving his mother ample time to rest. Baela and Rhaena didn’t fare any better, as they grieved, Baela would mount her dragon more and more. 

Many of the mundane yet needed royal duties fell onto the second in command, whether that were Rhaenyra’s councilmen, Jacaerys’ councilmen, or even you. As Jacaerys wife, you hold a significant amount of power. Especially after the people’s oath to Rhaenyra as Queen. More often than not, when it came to the mundane day-to-day business that needed to be managed but wasn’t as important as gold or wars, the men who dealt with them reported to you. 

It wasn’t hard work, many of it had to do with the construction of buildings here and there. Food supplies and trade routes to ensure a stable economy. Communication between the lower houses which had less priority than the major houses. Those things laid on you to then present to Jacaerys, who would only hear the abridged version, relaying that version to his mother. 

It kept your mind busy but your heart heavy. 

As what little time you had been able to spend with Jacaerys had now been dwindled into nothing. You suspect you’d have to get used to it, once Jacaerys rises to the throne, you’d have to deal with so much more as queen consort. Especially considering the state of the Kingdom after the war is over would likely not be as stable as it once was. 

But it didn’t mean it weighed any less in your heart. You missed your husband, you missed sleeping in his arms, you missed his lighthearted smile and small chuckles, and you missed telling him about your day. You missed the time when both of you were children and hearing all the stories of Old Valryia he’d learnt from his mother and the Maesters. 

You felt as though your relationship with Jacaerys was straining. Not by either of your faults but more by the lack of interactions the two of you have shared outside of tense-filled talks of war strategies. 

It fully ripped apart after the Battle at Rook’s Nest. Rhaenys Velaryon and Melys were no more. 

At her funeral, you held onto Jacaerys’ hand as Rhaenyra called for Syrax to burn her. You felt Jacaerys hold your hand tightly as he forced himself to hold a brave face. In consolation, you could only hold his hand against both of yours and offer some solace. 

The events which followed after concerned you. 

“Where are you going?” 

One day, you find Jacaerys quickly putting on his riding gear at midday in your shared bedchambers. You hadn’t expected him to be taking a break from the work and ride his dragon and so you knew he was going somewhere. 

“To meet Addam of Hull,” he replied curtly, securing his clothing against himself. 

“What for?” You wanted to help so you took the courtesy to grab his gloves and hand them to him. A small thank you was his response as he put it on. 

“I have made an agreement with the queen and the sea snake, we need as many dragonriders as possible. We have the dragons, we do not have nearly as many riders. Daemon calls them dragonseeds, potential Targaryen bastard children who have sworn to my mother. The deal was if they successfully bonded with a dragon they would be honoured a noble title.” 

Your brows furrowed. 

“Are you going alone?” 

“Yes, if this is true then I need to convince him. Asking a man to put his life on the line to try and ride a dragon is not something easily asked for.” 

That was when you stopped him. Jacaerys was rushing and at this point, he had finished preparing himself for the ride but you had stepped in the way between the door and himself. 

“And put yourself in danger? Jacaerys, are you positively sure that this Addam of Hull is who he says he is? What if this was a trap set by Aegon or Alicent? You can’t go alone. If you are hurt then at best we lose a strong dragon rider for some moons due to your injuries, at worst I may lose you.”

Jacaerys sighs but he can see some truth in what you were saying. He was taking a gamble by meeting Addam alone, but during his discussion with his family both he and Daemon agreed that finding these dragonseeds found priority over many other things. If the Greens caught wind of their tactic they may either steal it for their own or intercept their means to do so. 

By meeting Addam directly it allows Jacaerys some semblance of control over the strategy he first brought up. 

Control he’s been lacking ever since the people closest to him had started dying like flies. 

So he placed his hand on your cheek and leaned to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I hear your concern, but I am confident in this. Have some trust in your beloved husband.” He chuckled into your hair and pulled away to stare deep into your concern-laden eyes. 

Angling himself to press a chaste kiss into your lips, you practically melt in his arms. The moment was intimate and soft. If not for the feeling of harsh leather underneath your fingertips that laid on his body becoming a stark reminder of his next actions. 

When he pulled away there was a short silence before you moved out of the way with gritted teeth. For a moment you wished he would listen to your concerns for his safety more. Time and time again you find yourself wondering if Jacaerys was plunging into danger he would not be able to pull himself out of. 

He is not Daemon Targaryen, who you’re convinced has taken the favour of some god in return for the ability to not die despite the many perilous battles he’s been in. You hope Jacaerys understands that. 

A couple of hours later he would return in the afternoon, though this time with more bruises than he left with. 

You gritted your teeth as the maester recounted to you what your husband refused to tell you. After his return you had only a glimpse of his scuffed-up wear, only to be quickly brushed aside as he makes his way to the dragonpit with Addam of Hull. The maester who treated him, whom you had to quite literally threaten to fess up the injuries of your husband had informed you of what happened. 

Addam was who he said he was, recounts have found records of his Targaryen lineage. But in the process, the two of them had unknowingly walked into a scuffle with the King’s Guard who pursued both Jacaerys and Addam until the two could leave on Vermax. 

When the deep night came Jacaerys found you still awake in your bedchambers, unable to sit still or do anything until you could speak to him. At the sight of you, Jacaerys sighs, he knows what is coming. 

“Wife, please.” 

“I told you to be careful-”

“I know-”

“I told you you could get hurt-”

“I know-”

“What if you had been badly injured?!”

“My love, I know.” Jacaerys, with the patience of a saint and the understanding that comes from also being in the same position as you were in the past. 

He knew what it felt like to be a bystander in the violence of life, he watched his mother get cut to shield him and his brother from his step-grandmother. Only e to watch as she winces at getting stitched. And so he knows what it is like to be worried. To feel helpless. 

“I know I should’ve listened to you,” he nears you and holds your face in both his hands, looking down on you with so much love in his eyes that you could only offer him silence in return for his devotion. “But had I done so, Addam of Hull may never have claimed Seasmoke.” 

Your eyes widened and slowly a smile crossed your features. 

“He did it? He claimed the dragon?” 

Jacaerys grins and nods with you as you’re filled with a renewed sense of hope. 

“Yes, we may win this war without much fight anyways, my love.” 

Despite your clear hesitation in all the manners of how Jacaerys handled his wars, at least that night he was safe and sound and in your arms again. 

The months that followed would go as such, you’d watch in horror as Jacaerys would take more and more risks for the crown. The last strike in which you wondered if he was going too far was when Viserys II and Aegon III were attacked. Had you not begged and pleaded for him to wait a little longer for Addam to finish gearing up to help him, feeling he was jumping into danger unprepared, Jacaerys would’ve died. 

Arguments after arguments followed after that. Especially after Viserys II died in the Battle of the Gullet and the sacking of Spicetown causing the death of many of Corlys’ men. 

After that, every decision that followed Jacaerys’ command seemed to go further and further into danger. Even going so far as to recruit three more dragonseeds, you distrusted all of them. They had no incentive to put their loyalties to Rhaenyra, their only incentive was noble-hood, but what would happen if the scales tipped in Aegon’s favour? Would they switch sides then?

You tried warning Jacaerys repeatedly, only for him to brush you off over and over again. Even mentioned once that you had no idea of the wars that were being played and not to meddle in his strategies. 

You kept your silence to your husband after that. 

Your anger would come in tenfolds when Ulf the White and Hugh Hammer would betray Rhaenyra in favour of Daeron at the sacking of Tumbleton. It would be this unbridled anger that would cause the rift of your marriage to tear apart at its seams. 

Jacaerys seldom slept in your shared bedchambers, choosing instead to rest in his own, figuring any time he would come there, arguments would follow. 

Later into the war when Jacaerys suggested his mother march into King’s Landing while he stakes his post in Dragonstone, you, once more, protested. There was a giant risk in what they were doing. The people of King’s Landing have long been disillusioned by the throne ever since the war started, who to say they would open their arms to her this time? 

Not to mention the bloodshed that follows her, they would become wary. What would happen then?

And as always, your protests were pushed away. At first, Jacaerys wanted to take it into account, but after Daemon agreed to the decision and his own decision to battle Aemond, you realised you had no room to speak in the council of men. 

Disaster strikes once more when Sunfyre would lead to the death of Rhaenyra and Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son, had been taken as a hostage. You had tried to see the silver lining of it all, knowing Jacaerys was falling deeper and deeper into his grief, you wanted to see the hope at the end of it. 

“Husband,” Jacaerys didn’t respond. 

He sat with his hands cradling his head and mess of hair, covering himself from you.

You had fought tooth and nail against his guards to let you into his office, one which he had instructed them to do anything it took to prevent you from entering. You can see why. He was in a state of disarray. 

Papers were strewn about, so much so that you worried about the lack of fire safety in the room, considering the candles were still lit. There was spilt wine on the ground, some long dried into the cracks of the wooden flooring. The place was a mess and in the middle of it all cowered Jacaerys. 

“Jacaerys.” You called with a stronger tone this time, making your way to the man. 

Jacaerys finally lifts his head to see you. His hair was matted and his eyes were red from crying. He looked up at you with so much desperation that you could not stop your legs from rushing towards him and embracing him.

You fall to your knees as your arms cradle his body which now folds itself into his knees once more. 

“Oh, my dear.” You whisper when he begins to weep. 

His body shook with every rough exhalation. You held him tight against yourself, caressing his hair and back as no more words were exchanged between the two of you that night. 

The next morning, you had hoped that small intimate moment you shared in his grief would bridge back your relationship. 

How wrong you were. 

Jacaerys barges into your shared bedchambers for the first time in many moons and immediately strides towards your desk. Scattering papers around trying to look for something. 

“Jacaerys,” you quickly placed down your book as you were reading before he entered, “What are you doing?” 

When he did not answer and instead became more erratic in his actions, displacing mountains of paperwork that you had tirelessly organised and went through, you quickly stood up. 

“Jacaerys! Enough! What are you looking for?!” You rushed towards him and pulled him away from your desk, clearly in a state of disarray now. 

Jacaerys lets himself be pushed by you away from the table but his eyes still refuse to meet yours. Choosing instead to rake over the scattered papers for the Seven knows what. 

“What are you looking for?! I can assure you I can find it for you without you needing to disorganise my day’s work!” 

Finally, he speaks, “I’m looking for records detailing King’s Landing.” Your eyes widened. 

You did not have much paperwork containing the capital, what you do have though are trade routes, smallfolk routes, tax details, and generally things unneeded for a man leading a war. Though something someone would need if they planned on taking over King’s Landing. You had given a report filled with it just weeks before Rhaenyra’s attempt at sieging the capital. 

“No,” you whispered. 

“You said you could find the papers, where is it.” 

“Jacaerys, don’t be idiotic.” 

“I don’t need your input right now, I just need those records.” 

“Jacaerys, by the sevens, look at your wife!” You held both his shoulders and forced him to look at you. “What are you doing?” 

“I will not make the same mistakes as my mother once did, I plan on conducting this plan through diplomacy. Aegon is dying, my brother is held hostage, and both Aemond and Vhagar are dead. Not to mention Stark’s men marching into King’s Landing as we speak. I plan on joining Cregan and taking the throne.” 

He explains, his eyes weary and his body tense. This was the longest conversation the two of you have held for quite some time and you wished it was for a different topic. Though every inch of your heart begged your mouth not to speak what you were thinking, your logical mind took over, as it always does. 

“Are you mad?!” In three words, you see Jacaerys’ facial expression morph. His brows furrow and his eyes widen before quickly steeling and looking away from you once again. 

“You know what they call her? Do you know what the smallfolk call your mother, the Black Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen? They call her Maegor with tits. She reigned over a short moment before Sunfyre killed her and yet they still like her to Maegor the Cruel. How do you think they will respond to you with Stark’s men marching into the city?!” 

“Do you not trust me?” His voice lowers as he begs you to understand where he comes from. 

But you are an intelligent woman, a far too intelligent woman. It was one of the biggest reasons Jacaerys had fallen for you all those years past. But being an intelligent woman meant having your mind control your words and not your heart. 

“Trust you!?” You exclaimed, exasperated and untrusting of him, “Jacaerys, every decision you have made I have advised you to do something else or alter those plans of yours. Yet all you ever say is to trust you and when I do what I say could happen does happen!” 

And that was the moment Jacaerys breaks. 

“Advise?! All you have done was criticise me! What do you wish for me to say?! That I was abysmally wrong? That you were right?! That I should let you be the one to make all the decisions now?!”

“That’s not what I’m-”

“Every time I look at you I can’t help but feel your judgement rain on me. As if with your eyes you are telling me I told you so, over and over again. I can’t stand it!” 

“Jacaerys, I don’t-”

“Enough! Be quiet! Just- please- be silent for once.” 

He turns around, his back facing you as your hands drop to your sides. 

“Perhaps,” he starts, “Had I married someone who would actually advise me and not criticise me I would’ve listened to her. If I had known our union would’ve caused me this much strain I would’ve thought twice.” 

You felt the entire weight of the Seven Kingdoms break your heart at that moment. You would be dumb to think that the war hadn’t put a tremendous strain on your relationship. But to have him so brazenly admit regretting marrying you was something you never thought would happen. 

Logically, you understood that perhaps Jacaerys was just high-strung, he was stressed, and under a disastrous amount of pressure and grief. And that he did not mean his words. But that did little to bandage your already weary heart from breaking even further. 

The countless arguments, and the intense workload with no one to vent to, weighed on you. The only reason you had restrained yourself from woe was the understanding that Jacaerys had it worse. You dealt with numbers and produce. He dealt with lives and blood. You were not the same. 

Perhaps it was time for you to understand that. Wholly and fully. 

“It is still in the queen’s small council chamber.” You steadied your voice, holding any cracks in your tone from the heartbreak you were experiencing. 

Jacaerys didn’t acknowledge it, simply walking out of the room. 

That night and all nights after, you would spend your nights alone, crying. 

After that day, you would spend the rest of your time with Jacaerys or any of his councilmen with your head hung low. Forcing your contentment on the mundanity of your work of numbers and produce. Unaware of the few times Jacaerys has tried to reach for you before his siege. 

~

The siege was a success, they called it the Hour of the Wolf. Cregan Stark and Jacaerys Velaryon were able to take over the capital and after many more days of stabilisation over his rule more events followed. The sudden reappearance of Viserys and Aegon’s, son of Alicent’s, sudden poisoning by Corlys, to name a few. 

After all was said and done, Jacaerys called for the remaining royals, mainly Rhaena and yourself, in Dragonstone to return to King’s Landing for a celebration. 

Jacaerys would proclaim himself with a speech amongst the small folk, hoping to rebuild his image and reputation, afterwards food would be prepared for them. Nobles would also be in attendance but during the feast they and the royal family would be ushered to a much more private celebration where hopes of rebuilding relationships and easing tensions would rise high. 

You felt antsy over the entire ordeal. Not that you thought the idea was bad. You believed directly speaking towards the small folk would show his down-to-earth nature and create a friendlier personality for the normal people to aspire once more. Showing that the crown was something to be adored again instead of ridiculed and hated. 

What you were worried about was the scale of it all, as it stood many of the men that would be guarding the nobles and Jacaerys were Stark’s men. Which meant utter safety and loyalty as they listened to no one other than Cregan. But that did not mean all of it were Stark men. You weren’t privy to the details of it all but you knew some guards were just that, King’s Guards. Ones you did not properly trust. 

To play on the caring and courageous king, Jacaerys needed to be branded as a good husband as well. To do this, he mustn't start any rumours amongst the staff of the keep that you and he had yet to speak to each other properly ever since the argument you had in your bedchambers. 

So, you must share a space before leaving for the festivities. Thankfully, you were not expected to be in his vicinity while your handmaidens dressed and dolled you. As queen consort, you must also make a new image of yourself. Thankfully, your image hadn’t been sullied amongst your people, considering you were well-loved in Dragonstone. But that did not mean the smallfolk did not harbour any sense of irk for you. 

You must be dressed beautifully and courtly. 

As you stared into the mirror in your room, you took a deep breath. You looked beautiful. 

You did not have much reason to dress properly during the war. After all, your duties were done within the confines of your table. But now you looked ecstatically mesmerising. You only hope Jacaerys thinks the same way. 

“My lady, the king is waiting for you.” Your handmaiden muses with a smile on her face.

You could only respond with a wry smile and a nod as she begins leading you to Jacaerys’ bedchambers. To her, she had dressed you so beautifully for your husband, she must be giddy with pride and happiness. If only she knew the truth, you wondered if she would be disappointed. 

The pit in your stomach only grew as you neared the room, his words echoed in your head in a way that you wished it would stop. It festered and nurtured the growing insecurities within yourself. But before you could think more of it you had arrived. 

The guards open the doors and you make your way into where Jacaerys is, hearing the small giggle of your handmaiden before the door closes behind you. 

His back was facing you and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of the past. You focused on your breathing again. Not seeing the way Jacaerys fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt, blazed with nerves on how to speak to you again after so long. He wishes to apologise but doesn’t know where to start. Especially considering your sudden retreat. To which he does not blame you. 

Jacaerys slowly turns, opening his mouth to say something. But you unknowingly cut him off without looking at him. 

“My King, we should get going, it would do wonders if we could greet the nobles before the speech.” You explained matter-of-factly. 

Formal, guarded, stiff, and cold. Jacaerys bites the inside of his cheeks at hearing you address him with his title and not a term of endearment as he was so used to hearing. He understands he deserves it. 

No matter, what he thinks, the war is done and though more work will now follow him. The burden of blood will no longer follow him. He has a lifetime to beg for your forgiveness. 

So, he clears his throat. 

“Of course.” He offers his arm, half expecting you to refuse it. 

Surprisingly, you took it, placing your stiff palm on the inside of his elbow. You felt awkward touching him in such an intimate manner and he could tell. 

His eyes looked towards you beside him as you looked forward to the doors, waiting for him to start walking. He was transfixed by the sadness in your eyes, the sunken way they sat on your face, had you been having trouble sleeping? 

His thoughts were quickly cut off by your sudden laughter. 

“Oh, husband! Enough, we must leave now, we may continue this later tonight!” You exclaim loudly with a torrent of giggles. 

Jacaerys brows furrowed in confusion but then he realises when you start walking and the door opened. You were playing your role. The role he asked you to play. The quiet queen. 

Your giggles didn’t stop until the two of you were walking towards the carriage which would take you to where the event was held. In a moment, Jacaerys sees the way your face drops from the faux laughs and smiles. Your expression was sullen and cold once more when you reached the carriage. 

Jacaerys wanted to say something but wondered if now wasn’t the right time. So he stayed quiet until the two of you reached your destination. 

In which your faux smile returned as you leaned against him in the many eyes of small folk and nobles. 

The speech was a success, the people cheered for him as you stiffly clapped your hands at your husband’s brilliant words. Baela was the only one to notice your discomfort. Right before the nobles would be ushered towards the other location, she pulls you aside. 

“Are you alright?” she holds your hands. 

“Of course, just, worried.” you confessed. 

“About?” 

“This is too open, I- I’m worried something may happen.” 

Jacaerys, intending to look for his wife, accidentally overhears the private conversation. His jaw tightened at your words. A part of him wonders if despite the success of the siege, you still think of his failures as stronger than his successes. 

He wanted to prove you wrong. 

During the feast, you played your role perfectly, attached to the hip with your ‘dearest’ husband. You laugh as he tells stories and jokes, all the while your hand stiffens and freezes any time you see a guard or a noble acting out of the ordinary. To which Jacaerys always senses, as you are holding to him after all. 

This pushed him to be bolder in trying to prove you wrong. To show you that there were no dangers to his plan and that this event was spotless. Perhaps then he could apologise to you. 

It was on a specific instance that he felt you tense up the most. The two of you had begun a conversation with Lord Baratheon and his wife when the four of you started walking away from the crowds, considering how loud people were getting as they emptied their cups more and more. 

Though the conversation was getting dull, Jacaerys had continued humouring Lord Baratheon’s insistence on continuing to talk. As he wanted to show you that there was nothing wrong. He should’ve seen how the Baratheon was slowly walking the four of them to a secluded area. He saw the way your eyes wandered everywhere, not truly listening to what Lady Baratheon was saying. 

Jacaerys felt your hand squeeze his arm in warning, a simple sign to leave. One he did not listen. 

Until-

“Jacaerys!” 

It all happened in the blink of an eye, from behind a pillar a masked and cloaked man jumped from the darkness. Equipped with a poison-laden dagger, they proclaimed their loyalty to Aegon, Alicent’s son, as the one true king and went to drive the blade into Jacaerys. If not for you pushing him aside, he would’ve died. 

But in return, the blade stabbed deep into the middle of your chest, just below your ribs. The Lady Baratheon screamed, as your body collapsed to the ground, only for Lord Baratheon to take her hand and run. The scream brought the attention of the guards, who were quick to arrive at the scene and cut off their paths. 

Jacaerys falls to the ground to catch your body. 

He cradles your body against his own. Feeling the blood seeping through his fingertips. 

“No- no- no!” he mutters over and over again as he desperately tries to hold the wound in his hands. 

A pathetic attempt of trying to stop the blood from pouring out like a river of grief and pain. 

Your chest rose and fell as your breathing laboured. 

“Guards!” He yells out, “Call a maester, the queen has been stabbed!” He sees many of them scramble to follow his orders and yet he couldn’t focus on anything except the deafening ringing in his ears at his panic. 

His eyes began tearing up as you tried to squint your eyes at him to focus. 

“Jacaerys,” you mutter weakly placing your hand on top of his own which was still desperately pushing against your wound. 

The blood seeped through his fingers like water. There was no end. 

“Even in the brink of death you refuse to be quiet, please, conserve your might.” 

You flinch at his words, thinking back to the last time he mentioned being quiet. Not wanting to see the face of a man who has hurt you so in your death, you slowly turned your head towards the garden in front of you. 

Jacaerys, through his own watering eyes, realises his mistake. 

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. My love, you were always much better with words than I am. I speak before I think and I hurt you over and over again.” his tears began falling, “I’m sorry. Gods knows I’ve been wanting to say that to you the second our argument ended. But I didn’t know how I didn’t know how I could confess how much I loathed myself for saying those things in our room and how I regretted it without another argument. I didn’t mean any of it, my love, please.” 

At his confession, you slowly turned your head towards him again, and your vision began to blur. 

“I love you, please, please, don’t leave me.” He begged. 

You could faintly hear clattering and rushing, armour clanging into one another as you assumed guards were running with a maester. 

“I love you, please.” Sobs wracked through Jacaerys’ body, “I’m sorry.” And your heart broke once more seeing him so pained. 

For the first time in a long time, you wished your worries were wrong, that what Jacaerys had said in the past was true. That you were being far too untrusting over him. As much as you didn’t want to die, there was one thing you didn’t want to happen more. You didn’t want Jacaerys to lose another person he deeply cared for. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers over and over again into your hair as he leans to press kisses all over the crown of your head. 

With what little energy you had left, you whispered, “It’s okay. I forgive you. I love you.” You wish you could lift your hand and cradle his face as you used to do. He used to love it when you did that. But you found it impossible to move. 

Soon enough, you found it impossible to focus on his voice, then his face, then the ground you were lying on, then the world around you. 

Not a second later, Jacaerys sees the light leave your eyes and what little family he has left from his youth is now taken from him as he is left to weep and sob on the cold ground. Completely unaware of the nobles in the area watching the heartbreaking scene after rushing there after hearing a ruckus. 

~

His plan was a success, after all, Jacaerys plan worked. The speech and the feast which followed repaired his image unlike anything else could. Though the feast did most of the work. 

Rumours and stories spread around like wildfire over the heartbreaking scene of the newly crowned king holding his dead wife on the ground. Refusing to let her go, forcing the guards to physically pull him away from the body. 

Any semblance of doubt within the smallfolk that the king was a heartless monster who warred and sieged the capital was gone in a week. In its place was sympathy as they saw themselves who had lost family or friends to the war, in the grieving king who had lost his beloved wife. 

Though Jacaerys wished, for the first time, that he was wrong. That the plan didn’t work. That it wasn’t considered one of his successes as a councilmember would later say. He wished he was wrong and the feast was an abysmal failure. If only that meant you would sleep in your shared bed one more time. 

Just as you had after the argument, Jacaerys would spend the rest of his life as king, alone in his bed, crying. 

~

“Jeez, you okay?” Jace suddenly felt a hand wipe away at his cheeks. 

His eyes immediately jolt open, wide and confused. 

“Woah, calm down, you were crying in your sleep so I thought you were having a bad dream or something.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion, a bad dream? He couldn’t remember. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

Finally, his mind snapped into his reality. Jace blinked a few more times before staring at you, your head propped on the palm of your hand as you balanced on your elbow looking down at him. 

“Nah.” He shook his head, before grasping your body into his arms and pulling you back down into his embrace. 

“Shit!” You exclaimed, not expecting the sudden movement. 

All before you giggled again and wrapped his body against yours, one of your hands absentmindedly reaching to play with his curls. 

“Did I tell you how much I like it when you grow out your hair?” You absentmindedly asked. 

Jace hummed a yup into the crook of your neck causing you to laugh. 

He almost pouted when you pulled away to look at him, one of your hands cradling his cheek as he leaned into your touch. 

“So what was it? A bad dream or something?” 

Jace shrugged, he couldn’t really remember. A sense of deja vu hit him. 

“Or something.” he shrugged before cuddling deeper into you and relinquishing himself to sleep. 

“Fucking hell, I bet in every lifetime you’re a handful to me.” 

He chuckled, “Maybe. But that means in every lifetime you’re stuck with me.” 

A part of you wanted to tease him and say ew, but you didn’t. Your heart willed your words to say something else, “I hope so,” you whisper placing a kiss on his forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responds before the two of you fall back asleep in your shared bedroom. 

Did u guys like the ending ;)))) I really like the idea of a rebirth but this time both parties are better versions of themselves. Anyw let's get to the lyric breakdown

I want to write something which references this song but backwards. The song starts with the lines, “Quietly, it slips through your fingers, love // Falling from you drop by drop // What I had left here I just held it tight // So someone with your eyes // Might come in time / To hold me like water // Or, Christ hold me like a knife.” This is the beginning of the song that references Hozier wanting not to lose something but by holding it tighter, like water, it slips further away. It's too late like a wound you only clasp when you realise you’re losing too much blood. In the second verse, “You and I burned out our steam // Chasing someone else’s dream // How can something be so much heavier // But so much less than what it seems // Darling, we sacrificed // We gave our time to something undefined // This phantom life sharpens like an image // But it sharpens like a knife.” This second verse I want to be explored at the beginning of my writing. 

Jacaerys and the Reader love each other dearly but because of the war, they are pushed too far away from each other. The Reader is logical and smart like Jacaerys, but because of this fact, they don’t realise that Jacaerys needs emotional support more than military support. Jacaerys far too stressed out by the war doesn’t realise that the Reader is just trying to help him. It all comes to hell the more people die because Jacaerys is given more and more responsibility and the Reader only wants to help by carrying the burden with him, something they don’t realise that Jace doesn’t need. It’s a whole lotta miscommunication mess with two semi-selfish people who just want to help. 

Like the first part of the song, Jacaerys tries to hold the wound but it doesn’t work, the more he puts pressure the more blood seeps through. By the end of this section, he looks back to the throne, something he now doesn’t know if he wants or something he believes he wants as the person he loves isn’t with him anymore. Because this song references metamorphosis at the beginning of the album from De Selby part 1, I don’t want to just end it here. This is the end of the canon world of Jacaerys Velaryon but not the end of the story. Suddenly a uni-aged Jacaerys Velaryon wakes up and finds he’s in the arms of the Reader. He remembers he was dreaming something (his past life) but he doesn’t actually remember what it was. But in this life, there are hints of both him and the Reader being better versions of themselves. The Reader offers emotional support and Jacaerys listens to them. 

[inkareds]

Fuck Meta

[inkareds]

People pls put a profile pic and something in ur bio 😭😭😭 even j a

I'm not a bot is good enuff 😭😭😭

I can't tell if these are bots or not

[inkareds]

Our Little Routines

Jason Todd

nav // dc m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 1.2k

✧.* genre: fluff

✧.* warnings: nothing, reader does skincare/haircare

When the clock strikes at 10 pm two things start. The first is Jason and you start cleaning up the mess accumulated over the day; the second is the two of you start getting ready. 

this was so cute to write and was fully inspired by this post by @batfams-posts also I'm doing a rebrand w the colours, expect lots of changes lmao

When the clock strikes at 10 pm two things start. 

The first is Jason and you start cleaning up the mess accumulated over the day; the second is the two of you start getting ready. 

The only difference is that Jason gets ready for patrol, whilst you get ready for bed. 

There’s a comforting silence in the air as the two of you begin your little routine that you’ve found comfort in. A sense of normalcy before the seeds of worry and fear start in both your hearts. The only sound filling the apartment is the sound of clothes shuffling as the two of you change. 

You, to your comfortable pyjamas, and him, to his gear. 

Then as you move to your bathroom, Jason moves to a further room inside the apartment where he places his guns and ammo, far from the bedroom. Far from being seen by you, as he likes to tell you. He hates involving you in his line of work, even if that’s something as small as seeing the weapons he uses nightly. 

The sounds that follow afterwards are comical. From the bathroom connected to the bedroom, there’s the sound of running water as you wash your face. Not far out of the bedroom, in the living room, Jason has started checking, cleaning, and loading his guns. The machinery clicking and clacking against one another as he checks each barrel to make sure it doesn’t clog when he tries to shoot. 

You chuckle to yourself when you realise, something quiet enough that you don’t think Jason hears, though he does. 

“What are you laughing about there?” He calls with a grin, not that you could see with you now focused on the start of your skincare routine. 

“Nothing,” you smile to yourself in the mirror, knowing even if Jason couldn’t see it, he could hear it. 

In response, Jason puts down his gun and stands up from where he was sitting on the couch. You see him making his way over towards you from the bathroom mirror as you’re patting your skin. You smile at him from the mirror without looking back as he snakes his way into the bathroom and grasps your body for a hug from behind. 

He was fully armoured the same way as you were fully comfortable in your soft pyjamas. 

Once again, the juxtaposition causes you to chuckle. 

“There you go again,” he affectionately rolls his eyes, “Might need you to go to Arkham seeing as you’re going crazy, laughing at nothing and all.” He leans down to press a kiss on the top of your head. 

You shake your head and lightly nudge his stomach as you reach towards your moisturiser.

“I’m just thinking about how funny we look,” you state before your brows quirked at the feeling of your moisturiser container, “Have you been using this?” 

Your gaze returns back to Jason’s on the mirror, raising the moisturiser container to his guilty expression. 

“Nope.” He makes no effort to conceal his guilty smile. 

“Sure, and that’s why there’s only half left when I bought this last month.” You affectionately state before putting back the container and rubbing the product on your face. 

Jason watches your hands move around your face with expertise and smoothness. He remembers when he puts on your moisturiser there’s a sense of awkwardness to him. Sure, it does feel good, self-care and all that, but there’s a sense of awkwardness. As if his hands weren’t used to doing something so delicate that’s directed at him. 

But your fingers work the product easily into your skin, administering just the right amount to properly moisturise the skin without causing an uncomfortable cast atop it. When he realises you’ve finished he leans to smother his face in your neck before muttering. 

“I’ll buy you a new one when you run out.” Before letting you go to continue your routine.

You giggle and hum in appreciation, then reach to ruffle Jason’s hair, relishing in the cleanliness of it before he puts on the helmet and sweats through the night. Speaking of hair, the night was coming to the time when the two of you would have to deal with it. Jason stares at you for a little bit longer as you reach to get your hair oil, grinning to himself at how lucky he is for being able to be with someone like you. All before turning around and leaving the bathroom, of course not without slapping your ass. 

“Jason!” You yell out with no malice whatsoever, in response a loud laughter echoes through the apartment from him. 

When you start oiling and moisturising your hair, Jason is back in the living room looking through his helmet, making sure his communication line with Oracle is secure and nothing is awry with the helmet. When start styling your hair into a comfortable style for bed, he puts on his domino mask, and when you finally tie your hair, his red helmet is secured on his head. 

You make your way towards your bedroom, as he does. Though you reach for the bed and he reaches for the window. 

When you snuggle into the comfortable blankets and pillows, reaching towards your laptop for some entertainment before bed, he’s tightening his jacket around his body to ready for the cold night, and reaching towards the now opened window. 

But right before he leaves, you stare at him, a smile on your lips, one that brings out so much emotion and love through it. As much as you can muster, just in case that was the last time he’d see it. One that you give to him every night, no matter if the two of you just had a fight or not, it didn’t matter. You wanted him to see you smiling and full of love for him right before his patrol, just in case. 

And he can’t take it, can’t take how amazing you look, comfortable snuggled into your shared bed, body completely moisturised and smelling of your favourite lotion, hair done up ready to look incredible in the morning. He just had to quickly take off his helmet and reach towards you. You respond in equal longing. 

Reaching over towards him as your lips encase one another, bringing your hands around the back of his neck, pulling his body close to yours. Though he’s careful not to collapse onto the bed, for a plethora of reasons. The first is that if he does he doesn’t think he’d have it in him to leave for the night and the second is how dirty his patrol clothes actually are. 

When the two of you pull away, your hands lightly play with the hairs at the back of his neck as you both look at each other with so much love and adoration in your eyes. You were the first to break the silence. 

“Come back home safe to me, Jay.” 

And he answers with a smile.  

“Always.” 

And then he jumps into the night, letting the light of the moon and city stars cover him. As you jump back into the bed, letting the bed and silence cover you.

As always, if you like my work, do consider tipping me on Ko-Fi!

This was so fun to write! Also as I said in the beginning, I am doing a small rework of my blog cause currently I'm just not vibing with the brown/light academia cafe aesthetic. I won't be doing it all at once (as I'm slightly busy rn) but small things will change here and there! But I am trying to get out of my writing slump.

[inkareds]

De Selby Part 2

Matt Murdock

2 / 10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // marvel m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 2k ✧.* genre: fluff // sfw ✧.* warnings: this is mostly all from Foggy's perspective though still in 3rd POV

Foggy knows 3 things to be true about his best friend Matt Murdock, but after meeting you, he thinks he's knows 3 more things to be true.

Omg omg omg I'm running late on this event alkjsdhflkahskdfhadsf next one's Modern Aegon Targaryen II. As always lyric analysis and symbolism are explained at the end of the fic!

Requests are still open for my October writing prompts event!

Foggy Nelson has been friends with Matt Murdock since the two were in University. 

Throughout those years, he has learnt a lot of things about his blind friend. 

One, Matthew Murdock was a devout Catholic who was also the infamous Daredevil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

Two, he was a damn good lawyer who has a penchant for sweet-talking the jury, the judge, and women. 

Three, he stubbornly thinks he alone should deal with his own heavy burden but help everyone else’s. 

Call it the Catholic in him, the ever-giving part of him, but Foggy always hated that part of Matt. He hated seeing his best friend push himself to his limits all day and night. On both his thankless jobs as a pro-bono lawyer and the self-appointed protector of Hell’s Kitchen. 

He’d come to the office, baggy and tired eyes hidden behind his red glasses, sore and raw knuckles covered beneath layers of bandages, and bruised and battered body cloaked by his clothes and a charismatic smile. All before shrugging off any concern Foggy and Karen would throw his way. 

Brushing off any pleas from the two of them to take a break. Just a single day or night off from either of his lives would do him so much. Yet, he relented. 

Worked his body till the point of passing out and even a little bit after that. 

He wanted to help everyone, years of hearing people’s wails and cries and not being able to do anything about it has made him want to repent for it all and do good. 

But a thought crossed Foggy’s mind, and he’s sure Karen’s as well, repeatedly after the two found out about his other life. Matt Murdock was there to help anyone that he could, yet who would help him? Better yet, who would he let help him? 

Then, one day, Matt came to the office with a bright smile. 

Foggy remembered Karen asking what got him so cheery in the morning, only for him to shake his head and go back to work. Before directing her question to Foggy who shrugged, not knowing either. 

Then the day after Matt came in with a bright smile as well. Then the day after, then the day after, then the following weeks, and so on. 

There were some days where he obviously wouldn’t be so cheery, but the days that he was would outweigh the days he wasn’t. 

By the end of the 3rd month of this new phenomenon occurring, both Karen and him were over it. They had planned for drinks after work in Josie’s and it was there the two confronted him about it. 

“What’s been getting you all smiley these past few weeks?” Karen asked, trying to smoothly get the truth out of the man. 

Matt only laughed and looked away from their two prying eyes. 

“Really you’ve been all weird and stuff.” Foggy continued. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Matt shrugged. 

For as good as Matt was at smooth-talking anyone he came across, for some reason, when it came to two of his closest friends. He really just can’t lie. But for whatever reason, he seems to be very good at dodging questions thrown his way. So that entire night neither of them can get a real answer from him. 

If only they had known that it wouldn’t be a few weeks later that they’d get their answer. 

Matt went into the office that day more frazzled than usual. That in itself was enough to ring alarm bells inside Foggy’s mind but then throughout the day, Matt was clumsier. He was lost in thought more often than not, completely spacing out when Karen was talking to him about a case they were thinking about picking up. 

When, heightened senses, Matthew Murdock, fully bumped himself into the side of the table, Foggy finally asked what was wrong. 

“What’s happening now?” Foggy asked, exasperated. 

A great silence followed afterwards as both Foggy and Karen waited for Matt to answer. Matt slowly looked up to meet their gazes, like a deer in headlights he took off his glasses and ‘stared’ at them. 

At this point, both Karen and him were getting rather worried about Matt. They’ve never seen him look so, dishevelled. Of course, aside from any time he was battered and bruised from a night of daredevilling. 

“Are flowers too much for a first date?” He broke the silence. 

The moment the question left his mouth both Karen and Foggy felt like they were being slapped across the face. 

“You’re a mess the entire day because of a date?!” Foggy exclaimed, brushing a hand through his hair. 

“It’s not just a date, I need to make a good impression. I don’t want them to think this entire time we’ve been friends I’ve just been trying to hook up with them!” Matt tried defending himself much to the humour of Karen. 

“It’s still just a date, man! You’ve probably gone on hundreds of them at this point! Why are you nervous now?!” 

“Ok, ok, enough,” realising the two would continue arguing if she didn’t interrupt, Karen finally cut him off, “Elaborate.” 

Then came the explanation and in a moment’s notice everything became clearer. A few months ago Matt had bumped into you in Josie’s playing pool alone. After offering to play with you, the two of you had easily jumped into conversation. 

He didn’t know why but by the time the night ended, the two of you had so much fun that Matt had walked you home, promising to meet up with each other when the sun was up. A few days later the two of you bumped into each other again in a park. 

It was like fate had set up something for him, yet you were the one who took the leap. You were the one who asked him for his number so the two of you could continue talking. As friends, nothing more. 

But after months of talking and having fun, he asked you out. 

And now he was currently stressing out about whether or not flowers were too much. Much to the entertainment of both Karen and Foggy, who after a lot of teasing, actually helped him get ready for his date. 

One date turns into two, and two turns into several. And his status of dating slowly turned into a relationship. 

Foggy hadn’t met you at this point but he did notice something. He doesn’t think Matt noticed and if Foggy were to bring it up he was sure Matt would disagree. 

As Foggy watches Matt fall deeper and deeper in love with you, he also sees something else. Something different about Matt Murdock. He couldn’t pinpoint it yet but he knows there is something. 

Then one day, Matt had asked whether or not both Foggy and Karen wanted to meet up with you for drinks after work. He said you had asked to meet the two of them and Foggy saw the way Matt tried to hide his slightly shaky hands. Foggy realised this meant more to Matt than he first thought and so with an easy smile Foggy of course accepted the offer. 

“NO! You don’t understand! He was gone that night! I don’t think he remembers making out with that poor girl!” Foggy burst into laughter as he finished telling a story from when both he and Matt were in uni. Causing both you and Karen to burst into even bigger hurls of laughter. 

Matt shook his head, pretending to be annoyed, though the large grin on his face said otherwise. 

“Okay, maybe let’s stop talking about the girls I made out with back in uni in front of my partner.” Matt stated causing Karen to hum in agreement. 

“Mhm, yeah, we don’t want them getting jealous,” she chuckled wiping the side of her mouth from the drink she almost spilt on herself. 

From Karen’s offhanded statement, you quickly shook your head. 

“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it. Trust me, I won’t get jealous. He’s in a relationship with me, not those random people he made out with.” You chuckled, “It’s funny to hear what Matt was like before I even knew he existed.” 

Foggy watched as a warm smile crept into your expression as you fondly gazed towards Matt. 

The four of them continued on with their conversations, Foggy telling more embarrassing stories about Matt. Much to his dismay but the enjoyment of you, who lapped up the stories, even those surrounding his flirtatious persona somehow everyone in law school fell for. 

“Hey, I’m not surprised, I mean, I fell for it.” You shrugged when Foggy made a comment about how he was shocked at how many people actually liked Matt. 

When you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, Karen roughly nudged Foggy. 

“You’ve got to stop talking about Matt’s flings.” She stated; making Foggy actually realise how much what he’s been talking was about how much of a non-commital ass Matt was before he met you. 

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t realise.” He quickly apologised towards Matt. 

“Don’t worry about it, they don’t care.” 

Foggy remembers furrowing his brows at this statement, clearly not believing Matt. 

Yet when the night came to a close, both you and Matt separated ways with Karen and him so that Matt could walk you home, and as a goodbye, you hugged both him and Karen. All before raving about how much of an amazing time you’ve had with them and how incredible they were. 

He didn’t know what to think about your enthusiasm, much less about your openness. After having to deal with the likes of Elektra, Foggy seldom knew what to feel about Matt’s dates. 

But something inside of him told him that this time was different. 

And different it was. 

As time went on, Foggy finally could pinpoint what it was about Matt that was changing. 

From the way, Matt would ask either Karen or him more often when he needed someone to take over a case he was doing. Or coming into work with more sleep than he thought was possible for someone like Matt. 

Matt was changing. 

He was changing because of you. 

Foggy only started really paying attention when the realisation struck him. Then the evidence started laying itself in front of him. 

He’d still leave almost every night to go be Daredevil but from the mornings Foggy would see him walk into the office, he realised that Matt was more vigilant. He didn’t take hit after hit like he used to, didn’t let the crooks fuck him over just because he thought he deserved to feel the pain, to feel blood dripping down his skin. 

No, Foggy realised, Matt was being more careful. Because this time, Matt wanted to come home to you. 

Slowly, Foggy Nelson realised three new things about Matt Murdock. 

One, he was madly in love with you, wickedly so. So much so that he was nervous before his first date with you. 

Two, your lust and enthusiasm for life were slowly rubbing off on him as his stubbornness to give up and fight for justice was rubbing off on you.

And three, he had a warmth to him that he didn’t have before. 

In De Selby part 2, Hozier references several more of De Selby’s theories that I want to incorporate. The first is De Selby’s version of the Atomic Theory, he theorises that because we are all moving constantly, when we are in the frequent presence of something in nature we slowly become one being, the other one is he theorises that there are some roads in the world that are fixated to go on one direction, so when we go on a different direction we are brought into a new plane of realisation. Matt falls in love with someone almost the opposite of him, the Reader places their heart on a silver platter, they’re an open book, they’re straightforward and very trusting. They never lie and Matt can’t comprehend their unwavering trust and kindness to people. In the same way, the Reader doesn’t understand Matt’s incredible tenacity and stubbornness.