#/ puppy moon \ [for one so small you seem so strong]

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (IX)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,564

CW: MDI 18+, pregnancy, (difficult) grapic depictions of child birth, angst, manipulation, toxic relationship, dark/possessive Aemond, co dependency, self harm. not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

(birth seen between dividers by @zaldritzosrose)

authors note: sorry if this seems messy!

Two years had come and gone since the wedding.

Her mother had left, there reunion short lived, and all hope lost as her mother realised how easily she had lost her daughter to the greens.

Woven so far into their net, that it was impossible for her to escape.

Believing so blindly the words of Aemond and Alicent.

Finding no cause or reason to mistrust them, seeing any reason for Aemond to act cruel as her fault.

Aemond had inserted himself so thoroughly into her life now that it was impossible to tell the difference in their lives.

she would follow him around like a lost puppy, and he would tug her alone with him wherever he went.

She was always with him or in her chambers. Never anywhere alone.

And she liked it like that.

For when she was alone the dreams came.

Dreams of blood and dragons.

Dreams that only sought to bring her pain.

She could never stop them. Not truly, nor had she ever told Aemond of them, or of reason for the scratches lacing her body.

He had noticed them, of course he had, with his cock filling her day and night there was no way he hadn’t, and yet he had bit his tongue at the sight of them.

Perhaps because they were in the same place as her scares from the black cells. scares he had long grown used too, especially after he treated them. How he was her only comfort when that incident had happened, the only one she would let touch her.

He loved to remind her of how he was she only one truly they’re for her, both then and now

Married and bound by soul and law. She was his and he was hers, for two years now her life had revolved around him. She found little she for having her own thoughts and opinions, finding most of the time they were too silly or simple to be of any use.

At least that’s what Aemond would say.

But despite that she never felt small, only that he understood her. He knew her limits, her struggles and did not wish for her to suffer.

Though if you asked Aemond, and though he would never admit it, he liked her simple, complacent.

He had not only won her trust through guilt.

Guilt of her brothers’ actions, guilt of craving a bond between the brothers who caused him pain.

He had also won her love.

He remembers the day she had said it, near six moons into their marriage.

“Aemond” she had said, wrapped in his arms after a night of passion, “I…I think that I love you” she said, her voice so soft and worried.

As if despite his professions of love, his actions devotions where all fake, as if a disguise for the Aemond who had called her “my lady strong”, or the Aemond who had teased her and been so effortlessly cruel for years on end.

And though Aemond was cruel, still the man who craved to carve out her brother’s eye, who still bite his tounge every time he saw her, wishing to announce her bastardy to the court.

But he didn’t, the years of being cruel have shown him that being cruel to Aemma was not what he desired, not what she deserved.

She had been his only friend and only love, and though he did not regret the cruelty of him for years towards her, he regretted how rash he had been in it.

The game he had played with her for so long had come to ruin.

The game of making her the eldest pawn for him and the greens.

He loved her, that much was true, you could not argue he didn’t.

He just simply couldn’t show it, not when she reminded him for so long of the pain he had felt as her kid brother struck out his eye.

And know as she said “I love you” wrapped in his arms, her belles swelled with his babe, he knew he had won.

Not only had his plans to isolate her worked. Her family loosing hope with her and making her entirely his.

But now she loved him just as she once did.

He smiled, caressing her hair “I love you” he whispered, possessively.

She smiled, her usual timid smile, she went to say something more, but she bites her tongue, instead throng her head to kiss him softly.

The inner workings of Aemmas thoughts were so tricky to place.

A part of her knew she was being manipulated but she couldn’t understand it or understand why.

She understood the love Aemond felt for her and how the love she felt she had lost with her mother had been replaced with him.

But ever since her mother’s departure something had been nagging on her mind.

Her mother had insisted she had sent letter, and never received hers. It made no sense and yet the look Aemond would send her whenever she sat at his desk, reaching for a pen and paper. the pen hovering but never writing words as she tried and tried to think of what to write.

He sent her a look of worry; she wondered if it was for her or for what her letters might say.

She couldn’t understand the idea that Aemond would have prevented her mother and her reviving letters. It made no sense.

Her mind raced and raced with a million thoughts, and all her mindful return to be the dreams of blood. Blood on her hands, her sheets.

Even know a year after she had confessed her love her mind raced, her thoughts never stopped. She never had a moment of clarity, and she swore she was going mad.

The scratching had started again, and with a husband who never left her side she o idk not hide it.

He looked at her with such worry and concern.

Mother hemming her as he wrapped and bounds her arms, covering her scars and helping the to heal. Leavings off kisses as he went, begging for answers.

“Aemma, my love. What plagues you?” he asked his tone soft and sweet.

He was ever so soft at times, and yet other times he was could be brash and harsh.

“I am scared” she whispered, her head falling into her hands.

“What of?” he asked, no demanded. He had become such a fierce protector; it was after all his excuse for being so distant and cruel all those years.

“The tides, the sister” she spoke quickly, shaking her head, as images of head rolling flashed through her.

Her hand gripped her swollen stomach “my boy” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“The tides will come Aemond” she spoke in riddles. Riddles that Heleana knew all too well.

For years it had only been dreams and yet her mind was so full of dreams that sometimes they just spilled out in confusing riddles for others to pick apart.

“Tides?” he tilted his head, “the sea? Ahh the sea snake…he will recover I am sure” Aemond said softly, news had reached them of his injury, of the bids for succession of drift mark.

A part of him wanted to make his own bid, though technically Aemmas bid.

As a second son he would receive nothing, why not join the other second sons and bid for Driftmark also?

The doors to their chambers opened, Dayna, a maid, walking in with their son, a boy fast approaching his first name day, named Aerion.

“My sweet boy” Aemma said standing up with a start. She hated him being away from her, fearing he would be taken at any moment.

“Thank you, Dayna,” she whispered holding an Aerion close to her.

Aemond walked to her once more, smiling sorry as their son giggled in her arms. “you mother will be here soon” he said caressing Aerion’s cheek.

“Do you wish to greet them?” he didn’t wish to go himself, but small choices like these made Aemma feel free and not like the prisoner she truly was.

“i…I do not know” she did know, she wanted to see her mother, she had cried and cried for her, craving to see her and yet she had not once brought herself to write to her, instead she had forced herself to find the comfort of a mother in Alicent, and it was never the same.

He hummed, “I have training” he said, almost as if to grant her permission.

“I shall go then, better to introduce Aerion earlier than not” she said, nervously.

She didn’t know what she would say.

She was a stranger to all now, 2 years and passed since she had seen them, and even then, they were strangers, wishing to reignite a closeness that was long lost. Thanks to the efforts of others.

Dressed in a sea green gown, with Aerion on her hip. She stood in the courtyard awaiting her mother’s arrival. She stood alone, with few courtiers coming to great the heir, and those that had only seemed shocked when her mother stepped out of the carriage.

Sending her mother a nervous simile, Aemma walked down the steps to greet her.

“mother” she said in greeting, her voice the usual shy and timid it had always been, but never with her own mother.

Unlike her wedding, where only her mother, Jace and Luke had attended. This time, all her siblings, even the ones she had never meet and even Daemon had accompanied her.

“Aemma” her mother said breathlessly taking her in, a timid smile graced her lips.

not much more was sent between your or your family as you walked them through the halls of the keep.

Though they were greeted by few friendly faces, many turned their nose up at her mother, favouring greeting Aemma over her.

“Aemma” her mother spoke once more, sitting down in as they finally walked into her mothers’ old rooms. “How have you been?”

Huffing slightly, Aemma replied, “I have been well, muna, I- “she looked down to where Aerion sat on her hip, his curios eyes looking around the room.  “This is Aerion…your grandson” she muttered, coming to brush his hair away from his face.

He was the perfect combination of Aemma and Aemond, with silver hair and purple eyes, the shade being a perfect match of Aemmas. His face bore her nose and his shape.

“Aerion?” Rhaenrya breathed, smiling slightly as he turned to face her at the sound of his name. “I- had heard news…I am sorry that you did not writer to me of the news yourself.”

“I…it was a difficult pregnancy; I was bed bound for most of it…and with how you left things last time I- I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me”.

Daemond scoffed, shaking his head as if what Aemma said was a lie.

“of course…dōna riña, I would have come” Rhaenyra said, moving towards Aemma.

“You said you would visit before, and you never did”.

Rhaenrya’s heart broke, she had felt like she had truly lost her daughter. Her sweet girl had been taken from her and she had done nothing to top it, even years after realising all she had done was hide on Dragonstone wallowing in grief at loosing a daughter who still lived.

“I am sorry, tala, truly”.

Aemma softened, always one to easily take an apology and never one to hold a grudge. No matter how badly she wished too.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Her mother smiled, sighing a small sigh of relief before nodding her head and enthusiastically taking her grandson in her arms, “he looks just like you, dōna riña”.

“I think he is the perfect mix of me and Aemond” Rhaenyra flinched at the mention of him. Their conversation forms two hears prior still haunted her.

“Rhaenyra” she heard a voice say, the voice of her half-brother.

“Yes?” She answered, as Aemma was led to a corner with her ladies, trying on her wedding gown.

“Is there something on your mind?” he said teasingly.

She knew he had never liked her, especially after Driftmark. And though she had craved to be neutral with her half siblings the mere fact he had taken away her only daughter from her, made her hate him.

And now that she knew he had stolen her letters, hidden Aemmas own to her. She depside him.

Depside how Aemma trusted him and doubter her.

Rhaenyra scowled “you know exactly what’s on my mind, tell me the truth of it’.

He smirked, “hmmm, I do not know what you mean”.

“Yes, you do” she insisted, “my own daughter thinks I abandoned her, I know those are not her own thoughts”.

‘Oh, please, I only told her what she was already thinking” he smirked.

“That cannot be true” she seethed.

 “you’re not going to fix your relationship by arguing with me now are you?” he smiled, and Aemma called him over, “whether you like it or not she is to be my wife and to my Aemma, I will be here for her, and you…you will be swiftly heading back to Dragonstone, leaving her yet again” he quickly left before she could reply, not that she had much to think on as she knew everything Aemond had said was true.

The words circled her brain day and night. How had she not noticed that her daughter, her sweet loving daughter.

Her favourite child.

Had been so heavily manipulated by the greens, how her sweet girl who had promised to write every week had not sent a single letter.

And how she had let Dameon convince her to stay away. That she was better off with them her.

That she had been lost to them before she had even married Aemond.

“Yes…he is he. And the child in your belly… a boy or a girl do you think?

“I hope for a girl, though I think it to be another boy” Aemma said, smiling as her mother cooed down at Aerion.

“I believe I am to have another girl…your sister”.

“About time” Aemma joked, “I have long asked for a sister”.

“Kessa ñuha dōna riña, emā” Rhaenyra whispered, starting at her daughter as she took her son back into her arms.

yes, my sweet girl, you have.

Daemon coughed once more behind her, seeing Aemma a look she could not place.

“We should go see your grandsire now…perhaps we- I could join you for dinner?”

“I- have to ask Aemond”.

“of course…send me a note dōna riña.”

She nodded, taking her leave.

She didn’t join Aemma for dinner that night, receiving word for a smirking Aemond.

 The next day they had all gathered in the throne room, the court divided.

The blacks on one side, the greens on the other.

And Aemma, still unbeknownst to the guide, wore and emerald green dress, stood beside Aemond. Hand clutching her swollen belly.

Otto stood at the front of the throne room, speaking on behalf of her grandsire. “Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark.” Otto spoke, “As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He moved his head to face Vaemond “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” Vaemond started. “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind.  Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” He spoke, before being interrupted by her mother, who refused to face him.

“As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir…No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition” Otto cut her off.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.” Otto said, allowing Vaemond to continue, a smirk on his face.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.”

Aemmas mind began to circle. The sound of blood filling her ears, the slice of a sword yet unsheathed.

Blood dripping.

A dagger slicing.

Whores dancing.

Her mind circled again and again, in a never-ending loop of green and black fading into one and ending only with death.

Her hands were covered in blood, and no matter how hard she spends them on her dress it would not go away, how could it? When the blood had yet to be spilled?

The sound of a dragon’s roar and the crashing of tides.

She screamed, covering her ears. and a head…the head of Vaemond Veleryon came rolling towards her.

Blood spilling over her gown, and more blood lacing her hands.

A sharp pain hit her then.

Her breathing grew heavy. Her hand gripping her stomach, as another sharp pain hit.

Aemond touched her then, bringing her out of her thoughts.

His face and the face of her mother and brothers filled with concern, as pain wracked through her body.

“Aemond” she breathed, her voice scared as pain, a contraction she now realised hit her once more.

Her grabbed her to him, picking her body up and running though the halls, calling for the midwives as they reached their chambers.

Her screams filled the halls of the keep.

Cries of pain and fear as the midwives told her to push and push.

Aemond, like the first birth refused to leave her side. Insistent on staying even as her grip threatened to break his hand.

“Aemma” he said in encouragement, “ñuha jorrāelagon, kostā gaomagon bisa... jelevre”.

my love, you can do this...breath.

“I can’t…Aemond please…mazverdagon ziry keligon” she begged.

Make it stop.

Rhaenyra burst in the room, tired of waiting “dōna riña” she sighed, looking over to the midwives in concern as they stood to the side talking with the maester. “I am here, my sweet…I am here”.

The maester approached them, pulling Aemond the side.

Aemma looked to her mother in fear…”no…no”

“Aemma,” Aemond said, moving back to her side “the babe…is breach” he said, and Rhaenyra saw she saw a tear leave her brother’s eye.

“Breach? no…no” she muttered.

An image of a dagger.

Of blood-soaked sheets.

A head of silver hair rolling across the floor.

She moved from her position on her bag, swiping away the hands of Aemond and her mother.

“I must stand” she muttered, holding her back as she moved away from everyone leaning against a chair as she felt the need top push once more.

“Please…tala” her mother begged, walking towards her “they can turn the babe- “

“No…no they are wrong! I can do this! I can do this” she begged to no one but herself.

“Aemma you will only hurt yourself…please” Aemond begged.

“Will you cut me?”

“Never!” he shook his head, “I would never do that, my love. Never!” he insisted as he and a midwife slowly approached her.

“We can turn the babe” the midwife insisted, and before she could utter another word, she was dragged towards the bed, eld down as the maester forced the babe to turn.

She cried out, crying in pain as the few minutes it took felt like hours.

And before she knew it, she was pushing once more and then she heard a cry.

A cry that was not her own, but her babes.

A girl.

She smiled reaching for the babe, before she was taken out of her sight, and Aemma found she was pushing once more.

Another babe.

“Twins!” The maester said in delight, as her second son was placed in her arms.

Aemond laughed in joy, before looking down and seeing the blood dripping from Aemmas thighs.

He felt like crying as he was pushed aside, his babes taken as he watched the maester work.

As he watched Aemmas eyes flutter closed.

“No…no” he muttered, going towards her only for Rhaenrya to grip him.

“don’t” she said, tears filling her own eyes “she will be fine” she said to reassure themselves “she will be fine”.

The night was long and hard, with the birth of twins.

A boy and a girl. Named Aelora and Aelor.

Ot took her three days to recover, her form weak and still as healed.

Her mother had stayed with her, day and night.

And for once in his life, he had felt a closeness with his half-sister.

A mutual understanding.

Though it would all be lost when a family dinner was called a week later.

Authors note: dont ask me why all their names are so similar it was a good idea at the time and i can't think of any other names.

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[klaus-littlestwolf]

I am Yours, You are Mine -Aemond T.

This is an A/B/O fic. You have been warned.

Everyone knew, they had always known.

It wasn’t hard to figure out from what I assume, my mothers children are all boys with brown hair and brown eyes, I have white hair and purple eyes. Everyone knew my older brother Jace and my younger brothers Luke and Joffrey were Harwin Strongs children and just like that, everyone knew that I was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

Laenor hadn’t been able to give my mother a child and I looked nothing like him, Daemon however…I’m told I’m the spitting image of him. So while I am technically a bastard, I’m also full Targaryen, so I was never treated like it. I was born only 5 moons after Aemond was and therefore was raised with him in a way, as we grew up his older brother Aegon and my older brother Jace got close, at least closer than they were to us and Aemond got picked on a lot. He didn’t have a dragon, and while I didn’t either, everyone knew to leave me alone, whether it was because I was a girl or because I was Daemons daughter I don’t know. My father is the only current Targaryen Alpha in the world and that made people so much more terrified of him than they already were.

Most people in the world present as Betas, it’s normal and no one really thinks twice about it, an Alpha however is a blessing from the Gods. He will be stronger, and tougher, and defend your family better than a Beta can, at least that’s what people believe, an Alphas instincts being so much stronger than a Betas, the only presentation stronger still is an Omega, and an Omega is considered a blessing from the mother herself. Presentation happens around puberty but usually you can see certain traits in children to tell if they will be anything other than a Beta, my mother believes I will be an Omega because even with a father like Daemon I’m quiet and sweet, always the most submissive in the room which for a Princess is a good thing.

Aemond and I spent more and more time together as we got older, him being shunned from the group with his older brother and mine, along with Luke who followed them around like a puppy and didn’t mind getting pranked once in a while. Aemond was the smartest of all of them, he enjoyed learning, and training, but most of all, he had no dragon. Neither of our dragon eggs hatched and the both of us bonded over that, and I always tried to make my uncle feel better when they had been particularly cruel, like the day they gave him a pig instead of a dragon. We skipped dinner that night and sat together in the library for hours just talking. He was my best friend, and my closest ally in the world, we made promises to always be there for each other.

The promises of children never seem to last though…even if the children weren’t the ones to break them.

After Joffrey was born mother moved us back to Dragonstone, me kicking and screaming, clinging to my uncle who held me just as tightly until our mothers gave up. We had a small second of hope as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me to him so tightly it almost hurt. That’s when our mothers called for their guards and we were yanked apart harshly and I was carried all the way to the ship that would take us home.

We weren’t apart for long after that, my fathers wife dying in childbirth brought us back together for her funeral. As soon as I saw him I pulled away from Jace and ran to Aemond who held me close and breathed in my scent as I did his, it was a comfort that only we seemed to give each other. I stayed by his side holding his arm while everyone spoke about Laena, saying kind words about a women I barely knew while my “father” stood in the ocean below, crying for the Gods only know how long.

Aegon was with us for some time, watching the maids and being his normal vile self and eventually we were alone, speaking as if no time had passed at all. That moment as we sat on the steps talking would be one I regret for many years to come, watching Aemond as he gazed at Vhagar. I knew my uncle wanted a dragon, more than even I did and I told him he should go, as the sun went down and people filed inside to bed, I encouraged him to mount her while he had the chance. 2 hours later I was awoken to a knight running into my room to check on me and seeing I was in bed and fine. I followed him downstairs to my mothers relief, Luke was bleeding from the nose, Alicent was angry beyond belief and my uncle and best friend sat with a maester stitching his eye up. I moved to his side quickly, taking his hand in my own and holding it tightly, allowing him to squeeze it as he got stitched up and everyone continued screaming. I didn’t care for the politics, I didn’t care for the threats, or insults, only that my favorite person sat beside me maimed and my brothers had done it. I stayed by his side for the rest of the evening, even as the maester gave him milk of the poppy to be able to sleep, snuggling into his chest and feeling his arms around me as he slept soundly and all the while I felt sick to my stomach knowing that what Jace had said to me when I hugged my mother had been completely true… ‘This is all your fault’

I was taken from Aemond’s bed late in the morning, he had awoken to eat and been put back to sleep, all the while clinging to my hand. My mother took us home immediately, we went back to Dragonstone and so did Daemon who quickly married my mother as soon as Laenor passed.

Jace and Luke were quick to blame me for everything, knowing that I had encouraged Aemond to mount Vhagar, maybe if I hadn’t he would still have his eye and I wouldn’t have had to leave again. Maybe Rhaena wouldn’t despise me for “helping to steal her mothers dragon” even if I don’t believe you can have claim to a dragon if it hasn’t chosen you. Jace and Luke spent all their time with Baela and Rhaena and I was left alone, not wanting to be near my brothers to hear about how much they and Aemond despise me, how the only person I had ever truly loved besides my mother wouldn’t even write to me anymore no matter how many times I wrote him apologizing. My mother and father were the only people I ever spoke to anymore, Daemon practically claiming me as his own even if he couldn’t “officially” do that and I learned that being alone is better for everyone, especially once I presented. Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena had all presented as Betas as expected but I was “blessed” to a life as an Omega, suffering through my heats alone in a locked room, only maids to bring me food and try to relieve my pain which never worked.

I was 15 before I was truly blessed with anything in my life, out for a walk by myself, having escaped my guard and stumbling upon a dragon. The Grey Ghost was a name given to a shy, pale dragon, one I never hoped to even get a glimpse of in my life and I suddenly had, his eyes locked on mine as if waiting to see what I would do and so I reached into my bag to get the bread I brought with me and the fish I planned to cook on my little adventure, tossing them to him and watching as he snubbed the bread and ripped the fish apart. I had sat down on a boulder, watching as he ate, assuming this would be the only time I would ever see this elusive creature but it wasn’t. He had laid down to nap after eating and the next day he sat at the same spot as I brought him an even bigger fish. That went on for nearly 2 weeks of me bringing him food and talking to him before he approached me and allowed me to touch him, letting me mount him after that. I kept him away from the pits, away from everyone who only saw him when I went flying, knowing he was just as comfortable around people as I was, which was not at all. I even had all of my riding gear dyed as close to his color as I could, making it truly impossible for anyone, even another dragon rider to find us in a cloud bank. Daemon was impressed, believing it was a useful skill, especially for an Omega to be able to hide like that. Life continued on like that until Corlys’ injury, resulting in all of us needing to return to Kings Landing to fight for Luke’s inheritance. I was less than enthusiastic about going but my mother forced me onto the ship.

In Kings landing once again I was stuck with Jace and Luke as mother and Daemon wanted to go see Grandfather, forcing me to follow them to the training yard that I hadn’t seen since I was a small child. Everyone’s attention was on a fight in the center of the yard and I pushed between Jace and Luke to be able to see, seeing Criston Cole fighting a young man with an eye patch and knowing instantly that it’s Aemond, and that he is winning, dodging the mace repeatedly before his blade was at Cole’s throat and I ducked behind Jace and Luke, catching a very strong Alpha scent as I did and feeling my stomach twist into a knot.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned and I knew they were no where close to as good as he is, he would kill them. They had continued training but not very much and Aemond is clearly quite passionate about it. ‘Niece, lovely to see you again…or smell you I should say, and what a lovely scent it is. Hmm?’ I blushed darkly, not moving from behind my brothers until Jace turned and pushed me to walk back the other way.

‘I would stay close if I were you sister, wouldn’t want to be alone with him, would you?’ Luke teased and I wanted desperately to strangle the cocky little bastard but the last time I had hit him I’d given him a black eye and made him cry like a bitch, mother made sure I knew Omegas should never be violent, especially when they’ve been trained by Daemon and could make a man feel emasculated enough to be murderous.

I sighed, rolling my eyes and following them inside, finding my room as quickly as I could and locking the doors. I sat on the windowsill and stared out over Kings Landing, seeing a dip in the clouds and knowing my dragon had followed us, it was a comfort in case I needed an escape and knowing my family, I definitely will.

I stayed in my room until my mother came to get me, walking all of us together down to the throne room where I stayed as close to my father as I could, feeling men’s eyes on me, flinching from one who leaned in to smell me making my father turn and glare down at him, the man moving to the other end of the room quickly. I held onto his belt as Otto Hightower spoke, feeling eyes on me and knowing Aemond was staring as well. That same Alpha scent was back and my stomach felt like it was quivering as the wonderful smell assaulted me. My attention was only drawn when the doors opened to reveal our grandfather looking rough…half dead honestly as he walked into the room, stumbling up to his throne, Daemon helping him as he dropped his crown and leaving me exposed with no one to hide behind until he came back. I watched on, thoroughly entertained as Vaemond shouted about Luke and Jace being bastards, and actually couldn’t contain my snort as Daemon cut off his head though as expected nothing happened to him and Luke keeps his inheritance.

‘Now, if we’re through with this useless event, I think we can-‘

‘Actually my King, if I may?’ Otto asked, approaching the throne and mumbling something to him quietly.

‘Are you sure? Rhaenyra! Why was I unaware of your daughter presenting as an Omega?’ The King asked and my blood ran cold, Daemon pushing me completely behind him.

‘She was not ready for every noble man in the kingdom to be vying for her hand Father, I was protecting my baby. I apologize if you think I’ve hidden it from you but that was never my intention.’ She explained.

‘My girl, this is wonderful! Otto is right, there’s no need for anyone to look for a husband when we have a perfect Targaryen Alpha right here. Honestly I always did believe Aemond and Y/n would end up marrying, they were so sweet when they were babes.’ I backed away from Daemon, moving around the crowd and moving towards the doors the maids use to get to the kitchen quickly. ‘My son, you will take Y/n as your wife, do you have any objections?’ The King asked and I waited a moment, waiting for him to start yelling, or begging to get out of it…but he didn’t.

‘It will be my honor Father. Thank you.’

‘Well then it is settled, there will be a wedding, right here tomorrow night-‘

‘Tomorrow?!’ My mother exclaimed.

‘I’m a sickly, old man Rhaenyra, I would like to witness their union before I pass on. You can afford me that, can you not?’ He questioned and I knew my mother would cave at that as I got to the door, pushing it open quietly.

‘Father, I would like to request one thing. Since it must be such a quick wedding, I would like to do it in the traditional Valyrian custom.’ Aemond asked and I took pause.

When we were children we discussed just this, we talked about how we would be married one day and I told Aemond that I wanted to do it right, in the old customs. Since the day I learned of the traditional wedding I thought it was beautiful and I wanted it more than anything, Aemond promising me the perfect wedding. The idea that he remembered and even cared enough to request such a thing brought tears to my eyes.

‘I don’t see why not, I leave it to my wife and daughter to sort out the details with the bride and groom.’ My mother and the queen? And they want me in the middle of that? Fuck no.

I turned, leaving out the door, quickly running down the corridor and into the kitchens which were busy making dinner, allowing me to run through quickly and out another side door. I just made it to the gardens and down the steps, hiding in the bushes when a guard rushed out after me. ‘Princess! Princess! Your mother demands your presence!’ He shouted, running into the garden while I crept out and down the side of the castle. One good thing about growing up in a castle, you learn how to get around quickly and unseen.

I looked up to the sky, hoping to see my dragon, knowing exactly what he looks like now that I’ve spent so many years by his side and on his back. ‘Come on Ghost! Where are you?’ I questioned, getting down the stairs to the front of the castle, peeking around the corner to see many guards and I quickly moved around the wall and past the gates to the plaines where I knew Vhagar rested by the water. I kept far away from the resting place of the nearly 2 centuries old dragon and whistled, seeing the grayish white color separate from the clouds and dive down towards the ground, landing just ahead of me and just as he nudged his giant head into me in greeting a voice stopped me.

‘Byka Zaldrīzes!’ I froze, knowing only my uncle had ever called me that. He had since we were kids and I was trying to comfort him when he was upset about not having a dragon. My child brain figured, I’m a Targaryen, I can be your dragon and it made him laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. He called me Little Dragon ever since. ‘Where are you going to go?’ He asked, not yelling…not even seeming angry.

‘Home…’

‘Going home already, and I didn’t get a hello or a goodbye. I admit, I had hoped for a different reaction.’ He stepped closer, Ghost growling but not doing anything more as I shushed him to keep him calm. ‘You used to be excited by the prospect of us being married.’ That wonderful Alpha scent came over me again and I could no longer deny that it was him I was smelling, though deep down I knew it was. ‘You can’t even look at me?’ His voice held more emotion now, upset at the idea I couldn’t face him.

‘Please Aemond, please stop this? You don’t want to be married to me, there’s no point in whatever you’re doing…’ I told him, turning to face him and I couldn’t deny how beautiful he is. I had always found him cute but he had become incredibly handsome the past 9 years.

‘You dare tell me what I want? You?! After all of this time?! I have always wanted you Y/n and I always will, nothing will change that apart from you telling me you no longer love me and that my face is too much for you to accept as your Lord Husband.’ My eyes widened and I took an unintentional step forward.

‘Aemond, you are beautiful, you always have been! No scar changes that, and it could certainly not change the way I feel for you-‘

‘Then why do you run from me? Why have you spent 9 years not answering my letters? Why do you find it so hard to look me in the face? Why-‘

‘Because it’s my fault!’ I shouted, unable to take his questions anymore. ‘Because if I hadn’t encouraged you it wouldn’t have happened, no one would have fought, you wouldn’t have lost your eye! It’s my fault! And Jace and Luke, they tell me all the time and I don’t want to hear how much you hate me! I don’t want to hear you lie and tell me I ignored you, I wrote you every day for months! You never responded and I don’t think I can handle hearing how much you hate me Kepus…I can’t…’ the tears were now streaming down my face like crazy and as I reached to wipe them away he grabbed ahold of my wrists, forcing me to look at him.

‘You think I blame you?’ His voice was so soft it actually startled me. ‘Y/n…first of all I never got letters from you and I’m realizing you didn’t receive mine either which I’m assuming was your brothers but Gods Y/n! I have Never blamed you for that night!’ His face was so serious and hard I knew he wasn’t lying.

‘Never?’

‘Not for one second! You are the only one who gave me any kind of comfort, everyone else was either scared or angry, but you just held me. I loved you so much in that moment I thought my heart would explode! Waking up next to you in the morning, in so much pain, but you were there to make me feel better…then you were gone. My Little Dragon was gone and I couldn’t even speak to her, and now I come to find out you’re carrying guilt that has never been yours to hold! Your brother did that, not you, Luke! He chose to pick up that blade and slice my face, not you! And Vhagar was no one’s to claim, she chose me and I chose her, and yes you helped make me feel better about it but I was going to go to her no matter what you said…please let go of that guilt, my Princess?’ I nodded, sniffling as he let go of my arms and used his thumbs to wipe my eyes before leaning close and pressing his lips to mine. ‘You’re mine Byka Zaldrīzes, all mine!’ He swore, kissing me again, harder this time and pulling me flush against his chest. ‘My Little Dragon is going to be my wife, the mother of my children, my perfect little Omega…Fuck you smell amazing!’ He groaned, digging his face into my neck and inhaling deeply.

‘That’s enough!’ A deep voice shouted and Aemond jumped but I knew exactly who it was.

‘Father, you ruin everything.’ I teased and he just smiled as he got closer, Ghost rumbling in irritation at how many people are here now, seemingly willing to deal with my Alpha and that is all. ‘Did you take my letters?’ I asked and he instantly looked confused.

‘What?’

‘The letters I wrote Aemond, and the letters he wrote me, we never got them. Was it you? I am asking you despite the fact that you’re the least likely…I’m going to kill Jace…and Luke.’ I told him and he seemed irritated.

‘If they really did that, then they will be punished, I assure you. However right now, we need to get you back inside and help your mother plan a wedding.’ I hesitated but nodded my head, moving to follow Daemon and he turned to walk away as well just as I pulled away from Aemond and climbed onto Ghost.

‘Y/n, what are you doing?’ He laughed.

‘You think I’m going to mediate our mothers? Not gonna happen, by this time tomorrow we’ll be married or they’ll be dead, but I won’t be in the middle. Bye father!’ I shouted, hearing Ghost rumble. ‘Sovēs!’ I commanded before he leapt into the air and began climbing towards the clouds. ‘You saved my life, you know that?’ He screeched and I snorted. ‘Not really I suppose, but it wouldn’t have been fun…at all.’ We stayed like that, flying contently over the clouds for several minutes before Ghost seemed agitated and I turned to see the shadow of a large dragon above us causing me to push Ghost down before seeing Vhagar behind us, Aemond laughing while Ghost complained. ‘Not Funny Kepus!’ I shouted, diving after him as he turned to land on a nearby island.

‘I like it when you call me that, Princess.’ He told me as we both got our feet back on the ground.

‘Really? I would have thought you would hate it. My father does, it makes him feel Old when my mother uses it.’ I laughed and he just snorted, laying out his jacket for me to sit on so I could be comfortable.

‘He is nearly 20 years older than your mother, of course he hates it. When you say it, it just excites me.’

‘Hmm, well then I will refrain. Wouldn’t want to excite you too much, would we?’ I leaned into his side and he wrapped his arms around me, Vhagar laying down behind us and Ghost wanting to lay his head on my lap but I wouldn’t let him with Aemond here too.

‘I knew you would be a perfect little Omega, I just knew it. So perfect Y/n, and all mine.’ Aemond’s nose trailed through my hair and I loved the feeling.

‘Not yet Kepus, you need to wait to say that until we’re married-‘

‘Are you going to tell me that you belong to someone else, Omega? Because I will remove their organs.’ He threatened. ‘I’m already keeping myself from killing your brothers so save yourself more problems. If any man has dared put their hands on you-‘

‘Aemond!’ I exclaimed, laughing as he went on his tirade. ‘No one has touched me! Jace tried once when I went into heat the first time but I smacked him so hard his ears rang for a week. I love the possessive attitude but no one has touched me.’ I teased him, giggling as he trailed his nose over my scent gland, groaning.

‘Good, because I would’ve killed them. I told you before, you’re all mine Byka Zaldrīzes, Alphas pretty little Omega.’ His lips wrapped around my scent gland, sucking on my neck and making me cry out. ‘Oh, such sweet little sounds you make for me, my good girl.’ He teased, pushing me onto my back and laying over top of me, arm circling my waist. ‘I’ve waited so long to have you under me like this, to have to wait one more day is torture.’

‘You will survive Kepus, no one will keep us apart again…I am yours, and you are mine. Forever.’ I trailed my fingers up his jaw to his cheek and removed his eyepatch, dropping it to the ground and taking his face into my hands, his eyes closing as I held him.

‘Should they try, I will set this whole world on fire my love. No one will dare take you from me again.’ His voice was firm and fiery, every bit the Dragon that he was always meant to be.

As he leant down, I turned my head and let his lips touch my cheek. ‘We’re not yet married Aemond.’

‘Surely you can afford me a kiss, we will be married by this time tomorrow, don’t make me wait to kiss you one moment longer.’ I had to giggle at the way he made it seem like a life or death situation. ‘I had your first when we were only 8, I would have your last before you’re married.’ His fingers trailed over my cheek as I blushed a dark red before I leaned closer and felt his lips on mine. They were soft and warm as he held me close. I touched my fingers softly to the scar under his eye, hating that he had had to suffer so much pain and I couldn’t even be there for him, or even write to him. ‘I am sorry this is the face you must look at for the rest of our marriage, I-‘

I glared up at him and flicked his nose hard before he could finish speaking. ‘You will not speak ill of the man I love that way! Do you hear me? I care very little about a scar, I’m just sorry that I could not stop it.’

‘Little Dragon-‘

‘All this scar shows me is how strong and tough my husband is. It tells me that I will be safe in his arms and bed, and that our children will never know the feeling of danger…I love you Aemond.’ I could see the unshed tears in his eye that I knew he would never let fall and I pressed my lips to his again.

‘I love you Y/n. You are mine, and I am yours. ‘

For everyone who asked me for more Aemond content as well as those who asked for more Alpha/Omega fics.

I hope you liked it, cause I loved writing it!

Aemond T. Masterlist

[chiqelatasblog]

Let Me Help You

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part 4 of the Savior Series

Pairing : Bi-Han / Sub-Zero x Reader

Tropes : Married Life/Sex, Making Love, Restraints, Handcuffs, Blindfolds, Smitten Bi-Han, Possessive Behavior, Biting, Marking, Fluff and Smut, Blowjobs

Summary : “I didn’t know you had this side to you,” Bi-Han said, his voice neutral and his expression unreadable in the soft light of the candles and fireplace.

You nervously bit your lower lip, then, with an anxious voice, asked, “Will you let me?”

“To blindfold and handcuff me?” Bi-Han raised an eyebrow. “I told you I’m okay with whatever comes from you.”

This is a one-shot set during the time when the reader was Bi-Han’s wife (Noob Saibot before becoming a wraith), offering a glimpse into their relationship. It can be read as a standalone.

Author’s Note : This thought came over me yesterday, and I had to get it out of my system. It’s about the reader helping her husband *cough* relax in some intimate ways. Happy reading!❤️

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“No,” Bi-Han said.

His tone, usually carrying a growl, softened as he looked at you. The hoarseness was still there, but now it was tamed, gentle—reserved for moments shared only between the two of you. You smiled at your husband, just a small smile, nothing grand. But you knew even the smallest smile from you was his weakness, though he’d never admit it. His gaze, however, betrayed him, softening and shining with a rare kindness that anyone could see.

When you smiled at him, looking into his eyes and tilting your head slightly, it was as if you saw him as someone who hung the moon—or, as he’d tease, like a lost puppy. You adored your husband, hard edges and cold demeanor included. It had taken you a long time to scale the walls he’d built around himself, but in the end, every effort was worth it. Bi-Han was a man who kept his distance, his tongue as sharp as a blade, capable of cutting deeper than steel. Yet, you had been patient with him, always respecting his need for space, never crossing his boundaries or making him retreat, waiting until he allowed you in.

It all began with small conversations at night. When sleep eluded you—your thoughts sometimes too loud to quiet—you would often wander the palace gardens, only to find him there as well, either pacing or gazing at the stars, lost in thought. His voice captivated you from the very first word—deep and resonant, like distant thunder. That first conversation lingered in your mind long after it ended, a memory that refused to fade. Bi-Han was undeniably handsome, with sharp, strong features and pale skin that contrasted strikingly with his ink-black hair. But to you, he was more than just handsome—he was breathtaking, especially that night when the full moon bathed him in its silvery light. His pale skin seemed to glow, outlined by the moon’s soft radiance, making him appear almost otherworldly, inviting you to touch it, though you knew well that he could snap your wrist like a twig.

After that some time, your conversations evolved into playful banter, and before either of you realized it, the banter turned into flirting. But it was you who made the first bold move—you kissed him. It was the Year of the Rabbit. While the Lin Kuei rarely held celebrations, they made exceptions for significant occasions like New Year’s to honor tradition. That night, it was just the two of you. His brothers had left for Fengjian with the others, leaving Bi-Han behind. Crowds, noise, and the chaos of so many people often overwhelmed him, though he never voiced it aloud. But you had come to know him well enough to catch the subtleties, the small tells that revealed his discomfort.

So, as usual, he stayed inside, sitting on the cushions near the fireplace after dinner. The sandalwood scent from the incense wafted through the air, soft, small talk exchanged between you, though your focus was more on him than the conversation. The golden light from the fire illuminated his strong features, making him appear almost serene in that moment. His usual furrowed brows were relaxed, his lips tilted in what you might call a ghostly smile, and his brown eyes looked warm, like dark honey. You were more than a little drunk, feeling light-headed and giddy as you looked at him, and all you could think about was how much you wanted to feel his lips against yours.

Before you knew it, you were kissing the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, your heart hammering in your chest like a wild creature. Bi-Han was surprised at first, perhaps by your boldness, and for a moment, you feared he wouldn’t respond as he stood rigidly in place. But then his lips moved—tentatively at first, gentle and restrained. It was a chaste kiss, and when it ended, he looked at you with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He told you he wanted to kiss you again, but when you were fully conscious, not drunk. He didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

And now, a couple of years later, you were his wife.

“Please,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him with an exaggerated sweetness that almost made him smirk. “Why are you against the idea?”

Bi-Han looked away for a moment. You were sitting together on the bed, the fabric of the duvet brushing against your bare legs. This room was your shared retreat, a place where no one could intrude on your privacy. Here, Bi-Han could set aside the mantle of Grandmaster and simply be a man, your husband. Gently, you cupped his cheek, your fingers caressing his skin as you brushed a small spot under his eye. He caught your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin as he met your gaze once more.

“I don’t like being vulnerable,” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. Your expression softened as his words sank in. Before you responded, you leaned in and pressed a light, tender kiss to his lips.

“My love, do you not trust me?” you asked softly.

Bi-Han’s eyebrows furrowed, a flash of hurt crossing his features, as if the question itself had offended him.

“More than anyone.”

“Then let me take care of you,” your voice as soft and gentle as a feather drifting down from the sky. “Please, Bi-Han.”

For days now, Bi-Han had been tense, like a bomb ready to explode. The tension around him was palpable, his frustration almost tangible. A vein would appear on his forehead or neck whenever something small and insignificant irritated him—things he would normally overlook, leaving them to be handled by his brothers or his trusted right-hand men. The role of Grandmaster was a heavy burden, one he had been groomed to bear from a young age, but even he was not immune to stress. Bi-Han was a man who never showed any sign of weakness. He was closed off, unwilling to seek help or express his needs—a locked box, guarded and secure. It had taken you an immense amount of time and patience to get him to open up to you. Even now, with years of trust between you, old habits died hard. This particular bout of tension had been going on for nearly five days, and everyone around him felt the strain. His brothers were as clueless as anyone when Bi-Han got like this—coiled like a predator ready to strike, every muscle wound tight with suppressed emotion. You longed to ease his burden. It troubled you deeply when he became like this, struggling to purge the tension from his system on his own.

Bi-Han looked at you, his gaze contemplative as his other hand slowly caressed your upper thigh, where your nightgown had gathered. The cool touch of his fingers sent a shiver of goosebumps across your skin. After a moment of silence, he sighed deeply, kissed your palm, and gently lowered your hand.

“Okay, do what you want, wǒ lǎopó,”

You flashed him a bright smile, your teeth visible as you leaned in to kiss him again. “Thank you. You’ll like it, don’t worry.”

“I’m alright with whatever, as long as it comes from you,” Bi-Han said seriously, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you with eyes that always seemed feline in their slant. In the low candlelight, his deep, rich brown eyes appeared almost dark, his entire focus locked onto you. Hearing such words from someone who was so secretive, reserved, and often harsh about his feelings warmed your heart and made it flutter, making you feel cherished and deeply loved.

With a swift motion, you climbed onto his lap. Bi-Han’s large hands effortlessly gripped your bottom in a possessive hold, pulling you close against him. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders and began to gently lay him back, or rather, he allowed it—there was no way you could have managed it on your own. “I want this off,” you said, tugging at his upper garment. “Then I want you to lie here exactly like this and wait.” Bi-Han complied silently, removing his clothes in one fluid motion and tossing them somewhere in the room. He had questions in his eyes but chose to remain silent as you slid off his lap and began to move around the bedroom.

Your footsteps were light as you walked across the floor, the small fire in the fireplace nearly extinguished, with only the occasional crackle from the wood breaking the silence. A short distance away, at the bottom of your wardrobe, you retrieved a small box containing metal handcuffs and a blindfold. Your heart beat a little faster with a mix of curiosity and anxiety about your husband’s reaction. As you turned on your heels and walked back to the bed, Bi-Han’s gaze immediately fell on the items you held. His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of intrigue crossing his expression.

“I didn’t know you had this side to you,” Bi-Han said, his voice neutral and his expression unreadable in the soft light of the candles and fireplace.

You nervously bit your lower lip, then, with an anxious voice, asked, “Will you let me?”

“To blindfold and handcuff me?” Bi-Han raised an eyebrow. “I told you I’m okay with whatever comes from you.”

You were acutely aware of the trust Bi-Han was placing in you. He loathed even the thought of weakness, training his clansmen with such sterness that they often deemed him cruel for pushing them to their limits. Yet, he was even harsher with himself. The idea of being vulnerable, meant opening himself to potential danger—a concept he despised. This was a side of him he never showed to anyone, let alone exposed himself to potential risk in such an intimate way. By giving you this power, allowing himself to be handcuffed, he was placing his complete trust in you. He knew you would never betray that trust. To you, this act was a precious gift, one you would handle with the utmost care.

“Thank you,” you whispered again as you settled back onto his lap and carefully handcuffed him first. “I know these won’t hold you if you truly wanted to break free, but please keep your hands away. I want this night to be all about you.”

“You’re my wife. It’s impossible for me to keep my hands away from you,” he said, his words laced with a rare, bold honesty. You blushed at his words. Despite his usual reserve, when he did express his thoughts, he did so with striking directness. “You’re simply too beautiful, and I’m often amazed by how someone as kind and strong as you is mine. I can’t help but be drawn to you.” His tone was deeper than usual, almost whispery, as he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. His gaze was gentle, almost caressing you, but it also held a fiery, possessive intensity.

“Thank you for the kind words.” You kissed him on the lips again, letting your lips linger for a moment as you savored his icy taste. Then, pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes. “Please, just try it for me tonight.”

“Alright, fine,” Bi-Han breathed out, his voice a low rumble. You kissed his cheeks in thanks as you began to secure his wrists with the handcuffs to the bed rail. Once his hands were restrained, you gently tied the blindfold around his eyes. You could see his muscles tense under his skin, reacting instinctively as his sight was taken away. To calm him, you placed soft kisses on his forehead and then his temples.

“It’s alright, my heart,” you murmured soothingly. “There are just the two of us here. You’re safe with me. Just focus on me and nothing else.”

Bi-Han exhaled again, his chest rising and falling beneath you, a thin mist escaping his lips and meeting the warmth of your skin. He looked stunning, his massive, muscular arms raised above his head, each muscle tensed and exposed. His body, honed by years of rigorous training, gleamed in the golden light from the flames, freckles dotting his chest and shoulders, and fine hairs tracing a tantalizing path down his abdomen.

You shifted down slightly, sitting on his pelvic bone. You could feel the hardness straining against the fabric of his pants, pressing against your groin, hot and firm. The sensation made you bite the inside of your cheek, and Bi-Han’s breathing became more ragged, betraying his growing arousal despite the minimal stimulation.

A soft chuckle escaped you, filled with fondness for the man before you. Pressing down a bit harder, both of you groaned openly. You leaned in for a deep kiss this time, and Bi-Han responded immediately. The kiss was slow and sensual, unhurried, as if time belonged solely to the two of you. Your tongues explored each other’s mouths, savoring the lingering notes of mint and a hint of wine from earlier. You kissed and sucked with deliberate slowness, your body rolling in a teasing motion. Bi-Han hissed when you gently bit his lower lip, and you soothed the bite with a gentle suck—both of you knowing it was more of a playful gesture than a true apology.

“You’re so good for me, Bi-Han. So powerful, so strong, and now you’re laying bare for me to care for you.”

Bi-Han tried to respond, his lips rolling in a restrained attempt, but you grounded him with your weight, pressing him firmly into the mattress. You shushed him gently when he growled in frustration. This was your moment of control, and you intended to make that clear. Normally, Bi-Han was the one in command, whether it was over the clan or in bed. He was accustomed to wielding control, having been born into it. But tonight, for a few hours, you wanted him to relinquish that control, allowing yourself to take charge. Your aim was to ease his stress and help him relax after days of mounting tension. It felt like taming a beast, one that responded only to you. Any hint of vulnerability shown to others would be met with a ferocious reaction, but with you, Bi-Han yielded, trusting you completely.

Bi-Han seemed to sense your unspoken words and complied silently. You gave his lower lip one last gentle suck before your mouth began a trail of kisses—starting at his chin, moving along his sharp jawline, and descending to his neck. There, you sucked lightly, leaving a mark that would be concealed by his collar when he wore it. Bi-Han groaned deeply, his voice a throaty rumble that vibrated through his chest as you continued to mark him. Your kisses traced the rigid lines of his abs, his skin smooth and unblemished like marble, sculpted to perfection and cooling to the touch. Though he was a cryomancer and his body temperature was normally colder than a human’s, as you worked over him, his temperature slightly warmed, becoming almost pleasantly cool.

You marveled at the sight before you, kissing down his well-defined muscles, your fingers tracing the veins beneath his skin with a curious, mischievous touch. Bi-Han shivered slightly at your exploration. You smiled at his reaction and began to unbutton the bottom of his garment as you slid down. As you worked, his clothes fell away, discarded at the edge of the bed.

His length was as beautiful as the rest of his body, standing hard and proud for your attention. The tip, flushed a deep pink, contrasted strikingly against his pale skin. The sight of him stirred a deep, primal urge within you, making your mouth water with the desire to taste him. Though his length was average in size, it was thick and impressive, a fact that promised both challenge and pleasure. You knew that taking him fully in your mouth would make your jaw ache and leave you walking with a delicious ache between your legs—a feeling you welcomed.

You began to kiss and nuzzle between his thighs, savoring the reactions you elicited from him. He always smelled clean, with a fresh scent reminiscent of falling snow, mingled with hints of mint and something earthy and rich. But here, in such close proximity, his scent was even more pronounced. Bi-Han exhaled a curse, his breath catching in surprise, likely expecting you to take him into your mouth or touch him, but not yet receiving that attention. Your smile widened at his reaction, noting the flush spreading across his pale skin. His neck, chest, and even part of his shoulders turned a lovely shade of pink as his arousal grew—a sight that was uniquely yours to witness, as you were his first.

Bi-Han was a strict man, deeply committed to his clan and himself, often neglecting personal pleasures in favor of perfecting his skills and fulfilling his duties. His self-denial initially surprised you, but it was understandable given his dedication. He had stripped away many of life’s pleasures to focus solely on his role as grandmaster. When you first met him years ago, he seemed more like a machine than a man. Despite his captivating presence, it took a long time for him to ease his rigid demeanor and open himself to the world. You believed that balance was crucial to life, a concept you hoped he would embrace before his self-discipline consumed him entirely. With your gentle demeanor, he began to respect and understand your perspective, a feat that was challenging to achieve with someone as resolute as him.

And now, here he was, completely at your mercy, savoring the attention you lavished upon him. The sight of him so utterly dependent on your touch warmed your heart as you finally took the tip of his length into your mouth, straining your jaw. Bi-Han groaned deeply at the contact, his head falling back against the pillow, the handcuffs clinking softly as he tried not to writhe beneath you. He was highly sensitive to touch, with even the smallest sensation making his breath hitch. Although he initially tried to mask his responses with a furrowed brow and an impassive expression, you coaxed him out of his shell, showing him it was okay to feel and express pleasure. Seeing him enjoy himself brought you immense satisfaction.

It took time to get him to open up to you, as with many other aspects of your relationship, but the reward was worth it. Even with the blindfold, you could see the pleasure coursing through him—his mouth slightly agape, a few drops of sweat rolling down his temples. Your hand wrapped around his length, while your other hand massaged his muscular thigh, feeling the powerful muscles twitch and spasm under your touch.

His taste made you moan softly as you guided him deeper, expertly bringing him pleasure. The sensation of having such power over his pleasure was intoxicating, mirroring how he had always known how to bring you pleasure. You wanted to savor this moment, drawing it out as you watched the tension gradually melt away from him. He appeared more relaxed, a prominent vein pulsing in his neck, and a sheen of sweat glistening on his body. His dark hair became increasingly tousled as he writhed and twitched beneath your touch.

The sight was arousing, your core aching and hot with desire. You wanted nothing more than to climb onto his lap and take him deep, rubbing your throbbing ache against him to satisfy yourself. You could almost feel him inside you as you continued to suck and lick him, careful not to graze him with your teeth. Tonight was all about his pleasure, so you tried to focus solely on him, though you could feel your own arousal intensifying. Even without touching yourself, you knew you were wet.

You licked slowly from the base to the tip, knowing that the sensitive head would drive him wild. His length was a throbbing, heated presence on your tongue, heavy and slightly salty, filling your senses and making your head spin with desire. You traced a thick vein with your tongue, then moved to kiss and suck on one of his jewels, eliciting a string of curses from Bi-Han. His chest heaving as he clenched his fists.

‘’Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” he said sharply.

You shivered with pleasure at his response, savoring the taste of his precum on your tongue as he cursed again. His muscles rippled, his back arching slightly to get deeper into your mouth. You moaned around him, the taste of his precum only intensifying your own desire. Unable to resist, you slipped your hand down to your aching core, seeking relief from the mounting tension. The sight of him, so vulnerable and responsive, heightened your arousal. When your fingers brushed against your lips, you whimpered around his length, your fingers becoming soaked within seconds. The sound of your voice drove Bi-Han wild, his growls growing more intense and feral.

“Are you touching yourself?” Bi-Han’s voice was a ragged whisper, barely coherent.

“Yes,” you moaned, your voice shaky as you responded. Two of your fingers slipped inside you easily as you continued to bob your head, soft moans escaping with each movement. Your other hand wrapped around his length, your motions in sync with the rhythm of your mouth. Bi-Han’s hips bucked, and he pressed his heels into the mattress, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth, still respecting your wish with what little resolve he had left.

“Fuck, I don’t want to come without being inside you,” Bi-Han growled, his words coming out in sharp, desperate bursts. “I want you up here.” His voice was raw and primal, tinged with snarls and growls you hadn’t heard before. “I need—had to be inside you.” When he whispered your name at the end of his sentence, the way he uttered it made your resolve crumble. The intensity in his voice drove you to act.

You discarded your soaked underwear hurriedly, your hands slightly trembling with anticipation as a thin strand of saliva connected with his length. Positioning yourself over him, you guided his length to your entrance and, with one swift motion, took him into your warmth. A blissful sigh escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you savored the sensation. His thickness stretched you fully, and you took a few seconds to adjust to the fullness, relishing how completely he filled you. It was a beautiful sensation to be this full, chasing away the emptiness and connecting with him like this—body and soul.

‘’By the elder gods, you’re so wet,” Bi-Han bit out the words, his voice strained as you began to move slowly, your hips tracing lazy circles to adjust to him. Each motion pressed his balls tight against your pelvis, filling you completely. You braced yourself with both hands on his chest, lifting yourself up and down. Bi-Han was a groaning mess beneath you, cursing and hissing throatily as his hips bucked to meet your movements. You took him deep, your clit rubbing against him as you ground yourself on him, then lifted slightly before sinking back down.

“You make me feel so good,” you whispered, lying against him, your teeth grazing his pulse before catching his earlobe. “Do you feel good too?”

‘’Heavenly.’’ Bi-Han groaned. As you found your rhythm, you picked up speed, the pleasure intensifying with every stroke. Even without much movement, his length pressed all the right spots inside you, making you mewl and whimper. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, savoring the fullness and the way every inch of him stimulated your sensitive spots.

Suddenly, Bi-Han’s muscles tensed. With a controlled snap, he froze and shattered the handcuffs. He tore off the blindfold with a growl, his gaze now fierce and predatory. His eyes were dark, almost black with desire, intense and focused on you with raw hunger, making your heart flutter. His hands grasped your bottom, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulled you onto his lap. He began to thrust into you, his jaw clenched and a vein pulsing in his temple as he took in every moan and whimper from you. You clutched onto him, your nails raking down his back as he drove deeper into you, your breath coming in ragged gasps as sparks danced behind your eyes.

“You broke your promise,” you managed to say between moans, struggling to catch your breath. Bi-Han bit down on your neck, leaving a clear mark that anyone could see. It was a possessive gesture, and despite the pain, it only fueled the heat pooling in your belly. He licked the mark before responding, his breath chilly against your skin.

“I tried to hold back as long as I could,” Bi-Han snarled, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. He lowered you slowly, deepening his thrusts as he positioned your legs on his shoulders, almost bending you in half. The sensation made you arch your back, a loud moan escaping your lips as he drove even deeper, your legs trembling with pleasure. “But it’s you we’re talking about. I can’t resist myself with you. You’re a sight to behold.” He pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before his mouth sought out your neck again. “And mine.” His teeth grazed your skin, marking his claim on you once more.

The heat coiling in your belly spread through your entire body, making your head spin with pleasure. Bi-Han’s weight pressed you down, pinning you firmly as he kissed you deeply, moaning when he tasted himself on your tongue. His movements matched the fervor of his thrusts. You held onto him, doing your best to meet his thrusts with your own. His breath fanned over your neck and jaw as he pressed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth slightly.

Bi-Han growled, his grip growing fiercer as his thrusts became more erratic and bruising, the sound of slapping skin echoing in the room. You were also reaching your peak, pleasure raging in your veins and with one, two and the third thrust you came, white hot pleasure make you almost blind and you clutched to Bi-Han hard, your nails digging into his skin as you afraid of being fly away as how much orgasm shooked you. Bi-Han followed you almost immediately, spilling inside you with a hot, molten rush that filled you completely. He stayed deeply embedded, his breath a cold contrast to the warmth of the moment, as he bit down on your shoulder, grounding himself as he came down from the height of his pleasure.

You both remained intertwined for a while, taking slow, deep breaths as you came down from the peak. You caressed Bi-Han’s hair, which felt as soft as silk against your fingertips. His dark locks were tousled, and his eyes, now softened, held a depth of emotion that spoke more than words ever could. The contrast between his cool, pale skin and the warm, golden light of the candles highlighted the beauty of his form, the sharp angles of his face now relaxed and content. You basked in the afterglow as he lavished you with tender kisses, dotting your skin with affectionate touches.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice slightly husky and your palate dry from all the moaning.

‘‘Better,’’ Bi-Han replied honestly, lifting his head to press a kiss to your forehead. His eyes met yours, revealing a love so profound and fierce that it seemed to unfold before you like an open book. “I love you,’’ he whispered, his gaze steady and sincere.

‘‘I love you too, husband,’’ you responded, adding a playful lilt to the last word, which elicited a gentle smile from him.

“Wife,” he murmured in return, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We’re going to do this again. This time, you’ll lie down while I take care of you.”

[limi-strology]

My astro observations:

I'm by no means an expert, this is based on my experience!

●∘◦❀◦∘●

☄. *. ⋆*·˚ Leo suns are pretty warm people. I mean it as in they make you feel welcome in a new place and try to help you socialize with their friends. Even though they are really popular and usually in the center, they'll talk to you, pay attention to how you're feeling and encourage you to talk more in the group! It may put you on the spot, but that's how they show they care. I find it really sweet, they just want to help you get out there and approach people. They're great friends, especially if you were around toxic people previously, these fellas will kinda heal you in a way ❤️‍🩹

☄. *. ⋆ Leo risings also have a confident vibe surrounding them. Even those who are more on the introverted side give off the impression that they are quite dynamic? Idk how to explain this, they just kind of stand out. I think it's more obvious when they're with their closest friends, they're usually the ones cracking jokes, being loud, taking up a more leader-like(?) role. Part time entertainers, part time hype people. You go guys, let's keep up the fun vibes in our friend groups ☀️

☄. *. ⋆ Libras are so charming for no reason?? Like, both personality and appearance wise, I'm amazed. I love how they always listen to both sides of the story and try to find solutions that are fair to everyone. They're generally sweet and angelic, they tend to forgive a lot (don't you think they'll forget it tho, they'll probably be more cautious around you afterwards) up until you hurt them deeply. After that, they get sarcastic and cold, you do not want to get on their bad side. Regarding their physical appearance, I've noticed a lot of them have full lips and freckles (or multiple beauty marks on their face). I'm getting a cute energy just by looking at them, I don't know why, I just found every Libra I've met so far adorable in a way. Sure, they're mostly described as handsome and beautiful (and they are, not gonna lie) but I'm just seeing an innocent? youthful and carefree image of them. Also they're kinda curvy? Even the more lean ones are a little thick in the booty or thighs. 🤭

☄. *. ⋆ I've noticed Scorpios suddenly becoming really soft and smiley around kids and pets. They'll start cooing and waving at the kids, might even talk or play with them (if they know them well). Similarly, they'll get excited at the sight of a puppy or a kitten and will probably pet them and give them snacks. And what amazes new even more is that kids and pets seem to like them back! I don't know what it is about Scorpios and their energy, but I've seen so many babies/toddlers staring and smiling at my Scorpio peers in fascination, and whenever we encounter stray animals they seem to gravitate towards them. It's really cute to see that, warms my heart a lot. Like, intimidating who? I'm only seeing cute happy people ☺️

☄. *. ⋆ Capricorn moons have a hard time opening up about things that bother them. Even if they feel the most comfortable with you, they'll most likely hide some things. They'll talk about it eventually, but they'll probably reveal small parts of it each time, kinda like building a puzzle but taking many breaks in between. Maybe they feel like they can be judged and/or mocked and want to see how others react first? I hope you guys are surrounded by sweet and accepting people that you can trust and share things that trouble you with them 🤍

☄. *. ⋆ I used to think Aries placements make you more hot-headed/aggressive, but the more people I've met, I've realised they're more on the ambitious side. Strong willed, they know exactly what they want. Sometimes their parents may pressure them into studying something they think is best for them during college, and the Aries person will probably do that, but then they'll do the thing that truly interests them. I noticed Aries suns are quite fit and enjoy any kind of exercise/sports, it just makes them feel good, while Aries risings are mostly attracted to athletic people, or are fascinated by people who go to the gym. They also have a fiery, self empowering aura going on and I love that for them 🔥

☄. *. ⋆ Scorpio venuses, wowww... Okay, first of all, your loyalty is so admirable. And the fact that you always try to find solutions and maintain peace in your relationships, especially the men with this placement, I'm impressed every time 👏 I'm getting Morticia Adams vibes, and by that I mean that I'm seeing elegance with dark themes. Also, in formal/party settings, guys look great in all black outfits and girls rock red lipstick. I know it sounds a bit generic, but it makes you stand out from the rest, even if everyone is dressed practically the same. It's like you're just in your element 🤌

☄. *. ⋆ My fellow sun square moon people, how are we feeling? Do you also have that mind vs heart battle on a weekly basis? Like being two different people at once, with one being more assertive and independent (Sun) and the other more sensitive and insecure (Moon). Your upbringing could be genuinely good, with no one really hurting you deeply, yet you still struggle with your emotions and might have low self confidence. Probably people pleasers, even if your mind is telling you to do your own thing instead, you will probably have a hard time saying no. And don't get me started on this whole conflict of what you want exactly. You finally start living on your own like you've always wanted and make time for yourself? Yeah, but why is no one here to pat you on the back and give you reassurance yet? Where's the support? Hate independence. You eventually surround yourself on the daily with people who actually care about you and show you the affection you deserve? Well, now it feels too stuffy in here, let's self isolate from all the people we love until we feel horrible again because of loneliness. Don't know how else to describe it than just 🙃.

●∘◦❀◦∘●

Thanks for reading! It's my first time making an observation post so I'm sorry if it's not that accurate, I'm basing this on people who are close to me and whose chart I've checked a few times.

Hope you have a nice day~

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 32

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Sirius has a two day stubble.

Remus hasn’t seen him with any facial hair since taking him out of the prison and it does something to him, but before he can register anything concrete, he notices the new smell.

It smells like rat. He thinks about how Ziggy was meant to be pest control.

“Pete’s turned up!” Sirius is pure excitement even as he checks Remus for injuries. “He’s just in the bathroom, was everything alright? How are you feeling?”

Irrationally angry, is the truth, but he doesn’t say that. There’s no reason for him to be, just because Sirius got one of his closest friends back in his life. Residual wolf feelings, he thinks, unwarranted jealousy. Completely unacceptable. He should be glad, happy for Sirius, not grumpy over missing out on lazing about on a sofa and maybe (hard maybe) having Sirius care for him again.

Pete is a small, round man. Even when he’s human there is something of a rodent in him – the way he moves his face like a twitch when he speaks, the way he holds his hands. There’s a nervous energy about him that puts Remus on edge. Sirius doesn’t seem affected, flits around the apartment in an excited flurry of movement like a puppy reunited with a favourite person.

The kitchen table is covered in Sirius’ notes so they sit around the sofa. Remus lets his body relax into it. Sirius fusses over him, with tea and a pain potion and a nice plate of leftovers. It’s lovely, even as Pete watches him shrewdly. Remus can’t blame him for it - glad that Sirius has people in his life who care about that sort of thing. Well, he tries to be glad. Something makes him want to bear his teeth and growl, instead.

“What’s all this then, Pads?” Peter asks, gestures a twitchy hand to the mess of paperwork.

“Remus’ work. What I’m helping him with,” Sirius stays vague and Remus appreciates that. Wants to avoid awkward question. Any questions.

“That’s what you got let out to do, right?”

Sirius stops where he was, statue-still, something rendered in alabaster. “That’s right.”

“Good good. You’re so lucky that something like that came up… with what you did you got what, four years?”

“Five,” Sirius sits down at the kitchen table and Ziggy climbs up his legs.

“Long time, five years. Even that’s lucky though, to be fair. How many muggles was it, twelve?”

“Yeah. Twelve.”

“I was just on my way to meet you, you know, saw it from across the road. When you went off. What did it, that time?”

Sirius scratches Ziggy’s little head. His right foot taps an anxious staccato on the kitchen floor. “Can’t remember.”

“He’s volatile, our Padfoot,” Peter turns to Remus this time. “They must have warned you about it, when you got assigned to him?”

“That’s enough,” Remus snaps. Some part of him tries to feel guilty about it - this is Sirius’ friend, one of his oldest friends. Maybe this is normal, the way he speaks to him. But Sirius looks small and defeated and that’s just, categorically, not on. “Sorry, I’ve had a long night and I’d like to get some rest now. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, I can come back. What was it that you did last night?”

“Line dancing,” Remus shows Peter to the door and the smell of rat is so strong he already wants to cast cleaning charms on every surface Pete touched. 

NEXT PART

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@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

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(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[omniblades-and-stars]

The Way

Part i. | Part ii. | Part iii.

iii.

It’s uncanny, really. How does she always manage to show up just when things are going to the worst kind of shit and everything seems like it’s going to burn to the ground?

She’s like that. A beacon of hope.

It’s in the way that she holds herself like a respectable, serious soldier when she’s dealing with his people. When he sees her, on the very same moon he’s fighting for his life on of all places, talking to General Corinthus, he couldn’t be more proud.

She’s stoic, reserved, her shoulders are squared back, not threatening, she’s just standing like soldiers are expected to. Her gaze never leaves Corinthus while she is speaking to him. “Just tell me where to find Victus, and I’ll do it,” she says matter-of-fact. Because she’s the kind of woman who just gets things done, even when it’s not even close to her job to do it.

She waits until they’re far out of earshot of any soldiers high enough in the chain-of-command to care before she drops the hardened soldier act. “Garrus, I was so worried I wouldn’t see you again. When they hit Earth … It was so much worse than I thought it would be.”

And he knows she’s under exaggerating, because she thought it was going to be bad, but the catch in her voice tells him everything he needs to know.

The situation on Earth is as bad, or worse, as Palaven.

And she almost didn’t make it out.

It's in the way that she missed him. The very second the Primarch is settled in and she's dealt with … whatever's going on with EDI, she strides into the gun battery and locks the door. She's already shrugging out of her dress blues before he can even turn around. One of her shoes goes flying somewhere past his head as she hops up and down, kicking her legs to get out of her pants. She looks ridiculous. 

"You'd think the Alliance could spring for fabric that isn't a nightmare for the dress uniforms, but it's like they actually paid extra to have the itchiness sewn right in."

"What are you doing, Shepard?" He asks while chuckling and reaching for the clasps on his armor. He knows, because it's not like she's being subtle.

She has a lot of strong suits, but subtlety isn't one of them.

She stops her hopping, the leg of her pants is stuck on her foot, and she smiles. "I've been stuck in a room for six months. If you think that I'm going to wait a second longer to touch you again, you've lost your damn mind. You're lucky I waited this long. Your human girlfriend was this close to causing an intergalactic incident by jumping you in the middle of a tactical meeting with high ranking officers." She manages to yank herself free of the pant leg, her sock going along with it.

He's pretty sure he'll never get used to her calling herself his girlfriend. 

"There are worse ways to cause a diplomatic nightmare," he says as the pieces of his armor fall to the ground. He's not generally so blasé about his gear, but … Well …

If you had the Commander Shepard stripping in your quarters, you wouldn't care about scratches or dents on your chest plate either, now would you?

She pushes him to the cot he's set up in the battery and climbs onto his lap. Her hands are all over him, and his are all over her. Her arms are bigger, he notices. In fact, it seems like she's bulked up a little all over. Not that she was ever a small-framed woman, but he can tell she’s been working on what she used to joke with Ash and Kaidan about as “glamor muscles”.

He likes it.

She must notice how he's touching her because she says, "Didn't have a lot to occupy myself with, so I spent a lot of time working out with James." Her explanation is broken up by the kisses she's planting all over his face and neck.

"Oh, so you spent a lot of time with Vega, huh? He seems … nice," Garrus teases. He knows he has nothing to worry about. Shepard isn't that kind of girl. "Attractive, for a human."

"Who, James? Sure, he's cute, in the way a lost puppy's cute." She presses her forehead to his and smiles against his mouth, "He's a beefcake, but lucky for you, Garrus Vakarian, I prefer my men … bony." She flicks one of his plates for emphasis.

"So you still think you're funny?" He chuckles into her neck.

"I know I'm funny," she answers smugly.  But then she grows quiet and still, and he looks up at her to see that her brows are knit together. She's chewing on her lip, and it looks like she's holding back tears. "Missed you, Big Guy," she says quietly. 

"Spirits, I missed you too." Understatement of a lifetime, he thinks. 

She presses herself against him, somehow getting closer despite how she was already against him, and she sighs. She's clinging to him with her whole body, and she's so warm and he's missed her so much he never wants to let go.

This time is slow and sweet. They just need to touch.

It’s in the way she stands on her principles, even in the face of a galaxy that is telling her, “No, that’s insane!” He's not there when she marches back into the conference room to give the Dalatrass a piece of her mind.

But he hears about it. Primarch Victus recounts it dryly, with very little detail. His version is probably closer to the truth, but Wrex's version is far more entertaining. 

"So she stomps back in there and lifts the Dalatrass by her robes and shouts, 'Don't you think your people have done enough to fuck up the galaxy? Now I'm going to fix your mistakes, bitch.' And then she headbutts her," Wrex retells the story with incredible, bombastic exaggeration (and several outright lies). "If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was a tiny krogan herself. She's got quad." He has to agree, she is ballsy.

Garrus is pretty sure Shepard did not headbutt the salarian Dalatrass.

Spirits, he hopes she didn't headbutt the salarian Dalatrass. 

It's in the way she mourns. She's red-faced, while gut wrenching sobs wrack her body as she stands with her forehead pressed against the memorial wall on the crew deck. She's holding a plaque bearing the name "Thane Krios" in her hands. She tried to slide it next to Mordin's but her hands are shaking so badly that she's given up.

"They should have had more time," she says barely above a whisper. "Mordin, Thane … fuck," her voice cracks and he turns her so she can bury her head against his chest. The plaque goes crashing to the ground and she clutches at whatever handholds she can find on his armor. "He should have had more time with Kolyat."

Thane's death hits her hard. Not only because they were friends, though they were close. Her parents died when she was a teenager. She mourns for the pain Kolyat feels as much as her own. It's a pain she knows all too well.

Garrus understands. There's never enough time with them.

He misses his mom.

It's in the way that her reckless disregard for her own life drives him insane. She jumps into an untested diving mech without a second thought and disappears beneath the surface before he can utter more than a sentence begging her not to.

The waiting makes him crazy. She's not responding on the hailing frequency. And they literally have no way to mount a rescue if something's gone wrong. He's so tense he might just start taking potshots at the crashed cruiser they've landed on. He's pacing, Ash is pacing, and Cortez is desperately trying, and unfortunately failing, to keep the two of them level headed about it.

At least there's occasional drops of Reaper troops to keep him somewhat occupied. He's seconds away from leaping into the water himself.

And then another pulse happens, and the waters around them start to wave. And as if he has not already seen enough once-in-a-lifetime crazy things for several lifetimes, he sees something to top them all. Rising from the water is an enormous creature that looks eerily similar to some of the Reaper ships.

And then another.

And then another.

He's not sure what Shepard is doing under there, but it has to be "batshit" insane, as she would call it. Because what's happening topside is damn near incomprehensible. On top of the sea monsters leaving the ocean and taking to space flight right before his very confused eyes, the remaining Reaper forces are turning on each other, suddenly oblivious to their presence.

Minutes later the mech bursts up from the depths and Shepard stumbles out, and immediately loses consciousness. She comes back to in the shuttle, there is blood all over the lower part of her mouth smeared from the intense nosebleed she must have had. 

"Shepard, are you alright?" he asks, grasping her shoulders. His grasp on his sanity is slipping and the longer she doesn't answer, the closer he comes actually flipping out. 

She coughs and then smiles, it looks a little delirious, too goofy to be appropriate for what's been happening. "Yeah … yeah. Just um … just partied too hard with the ultra-ancient progenitors of the Reapers. Worked out though."

He's so relieved, so charmed by her ability to laugh even in the face of the impossible, and so, so very upset with her. He pulls her into his arms, and she's all but dead weight still. "Never do that again," he says into her hair. He wishes he never had to let go. 

"You say that like I'm always doing insane deep sea dives."

"Shepard," he groans.

"You know I can't promise not to take risks like that, Garrus. But … I'll try to be smarter about it."

He knows it's really all he can ask. It still drives him crazy. 

It's in the way she does the impossible again and again. The quarians and the geth seem intent on killing each other and destroying themselves in the process. But then she's standing between Legion and Tali, and she does it. She convinces the quarian fleet to stop their offensive and just like that … a battle hundreds of years in the making is over.

Legion is gone, but the rest of the geth are offering to help with the fight against the Reapers and to help the quarians rebuild their homeworld.

And so quarians have their homeworld again. All in a day's work, apparently. 

Tali takes off her helmet. She breathes the unfiltered air of the home she never thought she would have. She feels the wind on her uncovered face.

She is home.

How can one woman be at the center of so much good in the galaxy? She puts everything she's got into making the universe a better place.

And more confounding of all, why does she want to be with him?

He doesn't understand it, but Spirits, he's glad she does.

It's in the way that she sleeps. She curls around his body and throws a leg over him, trapping him beneath her sleep-deadened weight. He doesn't mind it. In fact, he cherishes it.

She holds him tighter when she has the nightmares. And they come more and more often. Her hands twitch like she's trying to grab something, and she whispers, "I'm sorry," in a barely intelligible slur. Thessia hit her hard. 

There are nights, rare though they are, where she sleeps peacefully. He manages to pry himself free without waking her to get something to drink. When he returns from the bathroom, she's sprawled out, her hair fanned out over her pillow, and quite frankly, a tangled mess.

The soft blue light from the aquarium plays over her skin, and Spirits, she just looks so soft. Even in the midst of all of this terror, the heartbreak, the impossible odds, his heart is full.

He sends her a message:

It's late. Just got up for some water. You're still asleep. Wanted to say how beautiful I think you are. Love G

When he carefully crawls back into the bed, she immediately curls back around him, trapping him beneath her sleep-deadened weight. He doesn't mind it. 

Spirits, he cherishes this. 

It's in the way she looks in that dress. Hot damn. He finds her fighting for her life at a car lot of all places, and seriously … damn. Distracting does not even begin to cover it.

"My eyes are up here, Big Guy," she says with a wide grin as she points at her chest. It's clear from the flush igniting down past the low cut neck of the dress that she is thinking about all the things she wants him to do to her in it. He is too.

That confidence is still apparent when they come face to face with her clone (yet another thing to add to the list of impossible things he's seen in the recent days.) He's not sure he's ever going to be able to recover from that shock. 

"I’m Commander Shepard, I never hide," Fake Shepard says with a voice that does not belong to her. 

Real Shepard, his Shepard, looks up at the her standing the next floor up, and then down at her own armored chest before cracking a ridiculous, toothy grin. "Nah, my rack is way better. No one would ever fall for it." Like she is absolutely unphased by the revelation that she has a clone and that clone is trying to kill her and usurp her life. "Bet I'm a better dancer too."

Literally everybody groans.

She's not even phased by being trapped in a dense, metal vault with quickly evaporating oxygen. She's just mad that her clone quoted her.

"I don't sound like that," she says obstinately.

"Yes, you do, Shepard," Garrus and Wrex say simultaneously.

She crosses her arms, "No, I do not. I'm way cooler. I always say, "Talk to ya later," leave 'em wanting more because I don't. And cause they get a good look at my bangin’ ass as I walk away."

"You've literally never said that. And you do talk to them again."

"Shepard, as fun as this is, how are we going to get out of here? I'm not dying in this tube," Wrex cuts in.

"Oh, right. Glyph!"

She's still arguing about how she ends conversations as they race to save the Normandy from … her.

It's in the way finally, finally he renders her a stuttering, nervous wreck on the dance floor. She swears she'll get revenge. Absolutely worth it to see her blushing in that dress again.

They barely make it back to the apartment. The dress does not survive. 

It's in the way that her mercy has limits. It's too much, the pressure, the anger, the pain is boiling over, he can tell that it's about to come exploding out of her like the blast from a nuclear warhead as they move through Cronos Station.

Unfortunately, reality still exists outside of her apartment, and they have to get back into the fight again.

And then Kai Leng makes the very stupid mistake of trying to catch her with her guard down.

Shepard breaks his stupid, impractical sword, before she grabs him by the collar of his armor. She throws him to the ground and she burns with raging, electric blue fire. She's on top of him in a flash, screaming as she pulverizes him with her fists.

"Is there nothing human left in you? How could you see what happened on Thessia because of you and not know that you're the one who's wrong? I could have stopped all of this so much earlier!" She's shaking the man, who is barely holding onto the tethers of life. She punches him square against the temple, Garrus can hear something crack. "For Thessia."

Then she reaches for the broken remnants of the assassin's blade and drives it hard into his chest. "For Thane, you son of a bitch. Go to hell," she growls and then spits in his face as he dies. It’s shockingly disrespectful.

Garrus has never seen her so angry. She looks wild, her eyes are wide, frantic, her chest heaves, and tears fall as she catches her breath.

Maybe it says something unflattering about him, but he doesn't care, he's proud of her. The man deserved much worse than that.

It's in the way they say goodbye. He hopes it's not goodbye, he has faith in their chances.

He has faith in her.

"We're going to do this together, Vakarian. Like we were always meant to. So you'd better learn to duck," she says with a half smile. Her eyes are wet, and her voice is right on the verge of breaking.

"Sorry, turians don't know how. But I'll improvise. " She grips his hands tight. "Forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you: Come back alive. It'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you." They hold each other, and she presses a kiss to his mouth.  Tears spill over, and he can taste them. 

"If I don't make it out of this, just … you're never alone, alright? I'll be watching you from somewhere up there."

He says, “Never,” because it’s what she needs to hear. But he knows that a galaxy without her in it is not a galaxy he wants to live in.

During the push to get to the transport beam, his worst fears come hurtling into reality. An IFV explodes, practically right on top of him. Ducking probably would not have helped. Shepard’s calling in an evac before he regains his senses. She and Javik are helping to carry him to the Normandy’s waiting cargo bay.

“Go! You have to get out of here!” she shouts over the earth shattering sound of Reaper laser fire.

“And you’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts back. His heart is pounding, cold fear clenches his gut.

She shakes her head, “Don’t argue, Garrus. I have to do this.”

“We’re in this until the end.” 

They’re supposed to do this together.

Her hand is caressing his face, and it takes everything he has not to just grab her by the arms and pull her onto the ship with him. “No matter what happens here, you know I love you. I always will.”

“Shepard, I … love you too.”

“Go!” she shouts as she sprints away to go do the most reckless, dangerous, suicidal, brave, selfless, heroic thing any person in the known universe has ever done.

And it breaks his heart.

It's in the way she’s victorious. His heart is broken and it hurts worse than the pain from his injury. But at the same time, his heart is full of pride.

She's done it.

For years they've fought this battle. And as that terrifying red beam chases the Normandy through the relay, he knows that she's done it. Maybe it cost her her life (they don't know yet), but she has defeated an enemy so powerful, so huge, that it was supposed to be impossible.

Shepard has done the impossible …

Again.

When the Normandy crash lands, it's not as bad as they all worried. EDI is gone, and that's heartbreaking too. But the crew is able to get the Normandy in the air again with a few days of hard work.

There's destruction everywhere. The mass relays are all damaged or destroyed.

But the Reapers are really gone. For good.

She did it. He always knew she would.

It's in the way he has hope. Garrus is a lot of things, a failed C-Sec detective and vigilante, and he knows now, a hero (her influence, of course). But no one has ever accused him of being an optimist.

But as he stands before the memorial wall on the Normandy, holding the plaque with her name, all he can think is, "No, she's not dead." He knows his girl, and his girl is a survivor.

They're going to make it back to Earth. They're going to be able to rebuild, repair, and flourish.

And he's going to be together with her again.

She makes it easy to hope.

It’s in the way she survives.

[robininthelabyrinth]

@oneiriad has (1) a birthday and (2) a request for Word of Honor fic + werewolves. Happy birthday!

-

“Maybe we should skin him.”

“Lao Wen.”

“What?” Wen Kexing smirked. “I think the old monster would do just right for a fur rug.”

Zhou Zishu resisted the urge to stab. Or bludgeon. Or possibly garotte.

There were a lot of options, and he knew how to do them all.

“Leave Ye Baiyi alone,” he said flatly. “I’m sure he’ll shift back on his own, eventually.”

“Will he?” Wen Kexing very deliberately lifted up one of his feet and used it to poked the still-sleeping, still-wolfshape Ye Baiyi in his side. “With all this mass? It might take a while. Years, possibly.”

Zhou Zishu rolled his eyes, though he did have to admit that Ye Baiyi’s wolfshape was a…particularly impressive one. Most martial artists’ wolfshapes weren’t even as big as an average wolf, coming in more around the size of large dogs – not so surprising if you considered the nature of the transformation and what it required in terms of muscle mass compression – but Ye Baiyi’s wolfshape was about the size of a small elephant. He’d thought he’d imagined it when he’d seen a glimpse last night, when they were all out and about under the full moon, but apparently it was actually that large.

And given that, yes, the transformation took longer the bigger you were, there might be something to Wen Kexing’s comment.

Popular rumor had it that a person’s wolfshape signified the strength of their martial arts. This was likely because you only developed a wolfshape in the first place when your internal arts were strong enough to serve as a basic foundation, and that as a result you wouldn’t be considered a real member of the jianghu if you didn’t have one. That was why regular soldiers didn’t count, but little puppies like Zhang Chengling, who barely knew how to throw a punch, did.

Personally, Zhou Zishu had always thought that those rumors were all a load of bullshit, a way for some people who happened to be blessed through natural variation in size to pat themselves on the back and lord it over other people. Sure, he himself happened to be an especially large specimen, exceeding the usual size by some bit to the point that he was even bulkier than a real-life wolf would be, but that was just luck of the draw, surely?

(Wen Kexing’s wolfshape was about average for a wolf – larger the most people’s for sure, but still a bit more slender and delicate when compared to Zhou Zishu. In that initial moment on the shore of the river, both of them still dripping wet from having been in the water, Zhou Zishu had briefly thought that Wen Kexing would be disappointed by that revelation, which had to be a lot less pleasant than the one about seeing Zhou Zishu’s actual face. Maybe he had been, too, only before he could say anything they’d both had to deal with the sodden state of their clothing by stripping them off and so his only comment about size had referred to another type of natural size variation. One in which he’d turned out to be slightly larger, much to Zhou Zishu’s instinctive annoyance.

Not that Zhou Zishu had been looking on purpose or anything. He was just naturally observant!)

Seeing Ye Baiyi’s monstrous size, though, Zhou Zishu was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong. One couldn’t deny that Ye Baiyi’s martial arts were prodigious, and his wolfshape size seemed equally so – unnaturally so, even. Who’d ever heard of a wolf that large…?

“He’ll shift back once he wakes up,” he said instead. “Also, even if he doesn’t, we’re still not skinning him.”

If either he or Wen Kexing had been normal people, Zhou Zishu might have been able to say something like You do know that skinning a fellow member of the jianghu for his fur is one of the biggest taboos possible, right? with a straight face, but of course they weren’t, either of them. Zhou Zishu couldn’t say it because he wasn’t that much of a hypocrite – he’d done much worse, in his time – and Wen Kexing…well.

He was Wen Kexing.

“But A-Xu, he’d fit so well with all the furniture!” Wen Kexing sniggered. “Look at him: what kind of self-respecting wolfshape has an all-white coat? He’s just being pretentious. White clothing, white coat…”

“You talk as if people pick their wolfshape color,” Zhou Zishu said, rolling his eyes. “It mostly matches your hair, doesn’t it, in the normal course of things?”

“Ah, well, if anyone could do it, it’d be this old monster.”

“No,” Zhou Zishu corrected. “It’d be you, and you’d make sure it matched your outfit.”

That just got Wen Kexing going, of course, going on and on until Ye Baiyi cracked open an eye nearly as large as Zhou Zishu’s human fist and, as his first move following his full moon stupor, tried to bite Wen Kexing’s leg off.

Half-heartedly, in Zhou Zishu’s opinion. For all of Wen Kexing’s considerable martial arts, based on the fight they’d had last time, if Ye Baiyi wanted to cripple Wen Kexing, he didn’t need to wait until he was in wolfshape to do it. And Wen Kexing knew it, too.

Not that that kept him from complaining.

Loudly.

For the entire hour it took Ye Baiyi to shift back.

Zhou Zishu comforted himself by noting that Wen Kexing was at least slightly behaving, in the sense that most of the insults were limited to being about how stupid a white wolf coat looked – presumably because that, at least, was something he wouldn’t ever have to deal with personally.

Not that Wen Kexing’s wolfshape would look bad in white.

Of course, that was more of a problem – Zhou Zhishu didn’t think Wen Kexing looked bad in anything.

Even the stupid stuck-up expression he was currently making while snarling at Ye Baiyi.

“You know what, I’m leaving,” he announced after a while when they showed no sign of stopping even once everyone was two-legged again, each one snapping at the other with their teeth as if they were both still in wolfshape. “I have better things to do than listen to you two flirt.”

The looks of horror on both their faces was completely worth it.

[runningstopsigns]

“spiraling is difficult”

•TW• SH, eating, depression, mental health, crying, panic attack… let me know if i need to add more

know you aren’t alone and everyday you make it through proves time and time again that you got this and you are strong and valid and that someone loves you.

•••

Quinn’s way home was a big win felt… empty. he hadn’t gotten his usual text or call from his girlfriend or a text message of a photo showing you smiling at the tv screen every game you didn’t make. Those were the first signs that popped to his head. He of course knew about you’re medication and he knew about your illness but you were always this right ball of sunshine. The girl who snuck fruit snacks and chocolate into his game day bag with notes attached to them and the girl who even when battling cancer made you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong.

He reached the threshold of the house and walked into the shared home. His heartbeat jumped when he realized it was silent. You always had music or some silly cartoon on in the background because of the silence. He’s met with the whines of your puppy Levi and he pets his head. dropping his bag he walks over to your shared room and opens the door. Seeing no one he almost leaves but turns when he hears it.. a small sob coming from you. Quinn hearing the noise books it for the bathroom where he slams the door open. You were on the ground in a ball- your phone open to what seemed like a message and what broke his heart the most was the razor blade thrown across the room.

He slides behind you turning you around clutching you to his chest. “what’s wrong pretty girl? tell be what’s happening.” he whispers in her ear. you shake your head bearing it deeper into his neck. “please sunshine i need to know what’s going on in that head of yours. why was the blade out baby?” he pulls your head back resting his hands on the sides of your face. he takes in your bloodshot eyes swollen nose and face, tears still streaming.

“it’s back.” your voice shakes from the tears.

“what’s back? what do you mean?” he questions not putting it together.

“the cancer. it’s back- i can’t do this again please.” you’re voice breaks falling to his chest. quinn freezes. his sunshine- his y/n. it’s back.

“we are fighting this baby- we have to i know it’s hard but you have to. I love you to the moon and to saturn i can’t loose you. let’s call the doctor and make an appointment.” he pulls you closer so it’s easier to pick you up. after carrying you to your bed and changing you into a pair of his clothes. throughout putting the clothes on he silently checked all the places you used to harm. he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t ask you and risk you breaking anymore.

“they emailed me. what an odd way to tell someone they are dying huh? they said oh by the way you not only have a cancer on both your kidneys but breast cancer- oh and it’s to big to remove because it kachowed my ass so you need chemo before and after removal. hurray me!” y/n says sarcastically- laughing through the tears.

“baby-“ he starts.

“it’s okay i just let myself spiral a little- it’s difficult- the spiral because you trick yourself into thinking it’s rational. i’m okay now i think but i almost-“ she stutters about the blade. she’s been clean for four years but if he hadn’t come home who knows what could have happened.

“i love you so so much. my pretty girl is so strong- it’s okay to slip sometimes but i’m here to catch you. you are feelings about cancer and life are valid but i need you to hold on. hell knows i can’t keep care of this zoo. three goats, dog, chickens, and a cow aren’t my forte so i’m gonna need you to stick around, yea? let’s get some food in ya later but first cuddles?” she nods her head pulling quinn down to cuddle on the bed. after just breathing for awhile y/n opens her mouth.

“gonna still love me when my boobs are gone?” she giggles silently making quinn throw his head back in laughter.

“really that’s what your worried about? babe i would love you if you were a freaking worm so boobs or no boobs ya ain’t getting rid of me.” he smirks and pulls you closer falling asleep knowing you were going to fight this.

[igglemouse]

Episode 11 ~ My Immortal

Tabitha had come to wake me and with the news that my mom was here. I was little terrified, actually, worried that I’d disappoint her again but mother seemed to be impressed with how far I had come. She had always seen me as a naïve and foolish young man but she saw that I had amassed some bit of power in this small rural town. I’m so happy to see her up and about and on her feet again even if those stares she gives you can chill you to the bone. It’s something about those moon white eyes, it’s as if she’s not only seeing into your soul but pulling it out of you bit by bit. It’s great to have her back either way! 

“Are you sure three wives is wise? Any of these three women can destroy you,” Lenore warned. She thinks I’m underestimating them. “And you should kill Violante, behead her, send her head to her old hunting group and-”

“Mother, it’s fine. Jana is having my child and Tabitha? She is mines completely, I own her soul and heart and the last of them, Violante, she is a puppy with no bark.”

“A puppy that almost killed me,” she grimly reminds me, noting with a nod of her head that she had bested me there. “All it takes is one mistake Julius-”

“Mother, things are fine, really, and-”

“I have a granddaughter out there, Julius, how are things fine? What metric are we going by here, my son? Is this a metric set by your lust alone?”

“Mother I...” she had me there. It was true. Laverne was taken from me and in the end that falls on me. “She’ll be found and returned safely mother,” I lied just to get her to turn her eyes elsewhere. That had worked. “Violante is no trouble. She mumbles and jokes and insults but that’s all she has. Besides, killing her is far too easy an out, it’s what she wants. I’ll break her, I’ll make her crawl to me and beg for my attention, I’ll make a pet of her-”

“And she’ll play the pet until she can slit your throat. Hate is a strong emotion, my son, never underestimate it. That woman hates you. She will die attempting to hurt you in any way she can.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

My mother is wrong here. I’m stronger than even she realizes. I’ll be able to get into Vio’s head and..

“Ah, here comes Jana,” I announce, hearing her right outside the door.

“Of course.” 

Index - Next

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Hiii! I would like to join your event, it honestly seems so cool!

Initials: ML

Sun sign: Capricorn

Moon sign: Aquarius

Character of choice: Chifuyu Matsuno from Tokyo Revengers

A love that started off clumsy and rough around the edges but you were able to see Chifuyu for who he actually is. And that someone is someone who is very sweet, kind and loyal and a total romantic. The kind of guy who goes all out on anniversaries and birthdays and always remembering the small little things that matter a lot in the grand scheme of things.

While this connection started off as one that was more akin to puppy love, it has since evolved into a deep and meaningful bond. A relationship with a strong foundation in trust, communication and friendship.

You ground one another, knowing that not all things in a relationship are cupcakes and rainbows. You understand the backgrounds you both hail from and how that impacts how you process things and may tackle problems. At the end of the day, as long as you're with one another, you both feel like you can handle anything.

[marvelite624]

Is this a story from the world we know or just imagined to make it seem so? Either way, this is...

She sat half in, half out of the last rays of daylight which pierced the darkness to spite several panes of broken, dirty glass. There on the filthy floor, she did what she could to remain in the shadows of the old tool shed. Soon enough, pale shades of the moon would surround her in ambiance enough to chill the bone.

Nissa was not alone as she fondly recalled her day, uttering endearments to the delight of her new friend, held tightly upon her lap. He was a five and a half month old Redbone Coonhound named "Goody". He sat, head tilting side to side, wide-eyed, invested in every syllable she spoke. Nissa began to fiddle with one of his large paws and he licked, and then playfully gnawed at her hand, ears flopping, so cute she had to laugh.

What was it Paulie had said? "Goody will protect you." Those had been his words earlier when he loaned his cherished pup to Nissa. The two had only just met, but it quickly became clear who needed him most.

She'd been picking wildflowers in the field next to her home when a voice from behind startled her, "Those goin' in a vase when you get 'em home?" She turned quickly to see a boy not much older than her, dressed in worn jeans, loose-fitting tee, and stained, white canvas hightops. His long brown hair was clean, but needed brushing in the worst way. He sported a small scar, passing through his left eyebrow, the kind that only served to accentuate his boyish good looks. Over his shoulder hung a quiver. In one hand he held a hunting bow which he lowered to his side as he patted the anxious ball of fur that tagged along.

"Oh, my heavens...you gave me such a fright!", Nissa sputtered nervously. "Didn't mean'ta, Missy. I hope you'll forgive me.", came the boy's reply. He noticed she seemed a tense bundle o' nerves as he shyly studied this sweet girl who looked, for all the world, like she might bolt and run at any moment. She was pale with freckles across her small, upturned nose. Hair like his mother's...strawberry red, which she wore in a single braid down her back. Her shirt was a pastel green plaid that, like her eyes, complimented her locks nicely. Tied at the waist, the shirt topped a pair of white Levi's and sandals. Nissa was quite tomboyish at first glance. She wore no make-up. She didn't need to.

"Name's Paulie, Missy an' I'm very pleased to meet you. I don't bite an' neither does my dog here. His name's Goody." The puppy hopped up barking as if to say hello in his own way, turned a circle or two and flopped down on his backside, panting. "That's a silly name for a dog, ain't it?", she suggested, giggling slightly. "I think it's a swell name for 'im. My pops gave 'im to me right before he left for the war. Said he'd help protect Maw an' me while he's away. My pops takes a medicine powder to make him feel better sometimes. For me, it's my dog what makes me feel better, so I named him after my pop's powders cause he's as good as any medicine."

"Well, that's sweet and it makes sense. You can stop calling me 'Missy' though, I'm 'Nissa' and very happy to meet you too." She reached down to pet the pup as she spoke and was greeted with a heavy paw which she gladly shook. Paulie couldn't help but notice as she shook that paw, the three-quarter sleeve of her shirt rode up a bit revealing curious bruising on her arm. He realized they were impressions left by fingers, from a strong hand large enough to encircle her entire arm. The sight appalled him as it threw a damper on an otherwise pleasant encounter. Now he found himself scrutinizing every inch of Nissa that he could.

"So what's the bow for, Paulie?" He found it a fair question as they were strangers after all. He wondered if she was feeling in some way uncomfortable at the sight of it. "My pops was teaching me to hunt before he left. Small stuff mostly. Now, I'm showin' my dog. We're gettin' pretty good at it too, but I don't like to brag." Nissa listened intently as he spoke and Paulie hoped she wouldn't notice his eyes, investigating her further. She coughed softly, turning her head to one side as she covered her mouth politely. Sure enough, the bruising was in evidence on both arms now and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt, similar markings all but faded. Paulie was growing angry, struggling not to let it show.

"Well, if you were planning to do any hunting here, don't let my daddy catch you. He don't fancy to strangers on his property. If he catches you...just for everybody's sake, do your hunting someplace else." He noticed a sudden lack of eye contact as she spoke of her daddy. Her right hand crossed in front of her to gently hold the left arm even as her gaze had dropped to the ground.

Hesitantly Paulie asked, "Is your daddy not a nice man, Nissa?" He hoped the question wouldn't upset her. "Why do you ask that? Of course he's nice! He just...well, he just has a bad temper and can't help himself sometimes. When he drinks...he thinks nobody loves him an' it makes him hate everything. Sometimes I think he regrets marrying my momma an' don't want to be stuck with us anymore." "So, he's not your real daddy then?" "Cole? Oh,no. My real dad passed into the arms of the Lord a few years ago. He left me an' Mom the house and a patch of land...a couple of horses too, Emily and old Levi, but Cole sold them. He said the feed was way too expensive. He did a lot of things I didn't like. Sure wish he hadn't taken away all o' my daddy's pictures like he did. I can barely remember his face these days. If it wasn't for the little one I keep hidden..."

"You have a picture hidden?" "Yeah, I keep it in the old shed at the edge of the woods. Noone ever goes there but me. You want to see my real daddy? C'mon, I'll show you!" With a new-found excitement, she ran past Paulie, wildflowers still gripped in one hand, giggling. Goody hopped up into a quick gallop, one sharp bark signaling the boy should follow. The shed wasn't very far, he could make it out just inside the woods across the field.

When Paulie reached the dilapidated, old shed, Nissa was bent over, hands on her knees huffing and puffing as she looked to the straw-covered earth beneath her. A slight turn of her head then toward the boy as he stopped nearby, "Ya know, for the outdoorsy, adventurous type, Paulie... you run like a girl." Her snarky grin was adorable, the boy thought.

"Yep, ya beat me fair and square dit'n ya." As he spoke, Goody, sitting slightly behind Nissa scratching his neck with a very busy hind paw, looked to Paulie with an inquisitive glare and issued a suspicious whimper. Paulie let go a quick gasp raising a finger to his lips to shush the mut. The wink which followed went totally unnoticed by the young miss. "I got bested by a girl! How will I ever live with myself?" Goody shook his flopping ears and just lay down. Truth is, the boy could have overtaken her at any time but, being the chivalrous gentleman his momma had taught him to be, he let her claim this little victory.

"So what'cha got here? Some secret hideaway?" "Sorta, but the way it sticks out like a sore thumb hardly makes it secret. Me coming here sometimes though, that, I try to keep to myself." She moved into the old rat trap with a confidence that surprised her new friend. The interior smelled of dead wood and decay. It was dank and dusty with very little light for maneuvering. Several random planks missing from the floor gave the girl no pause to her advance. It was obvious she'd been here many times before.

There was a row of counters across the back wall which rounded the corner to continue partially down one side. The opposite wall was bare except for some rusted chain hanging haphazardly. Paulie's eyes began to adjust enough to make out the many old, near useless tools strewn around the room as well as the roof in one corner barely fighting a long overdue collapse.

"You be careful now, Nissa! This place don't look none too safe." The girl shrugged as she squatted onto one knee, reaching under a shelf below the sagging countertop. Paulie leaned side to side, neck stretched trying to see what she was up to. "Here we go!" Her arm returned holding a ragged cigar box. She blew the dust from the top and lifted the lid. Inside lay a solitary black and white photograph.

She raised the picture delicately to her heart. Eyes closed, she whispered something the boy couldn't quite hear. Paulie waited patiently for what seemed a long time before offering, "You don't have to show me if you don't want to. It's okay if you changed your mind..." "No, no. I was just makin' sure he doesn't mind."

She passed her little treasure to him anxiously, squirming a bit as she did. The picture was of a man, wearing a rancher's work attire. He stood between two horses holding their reigns. On the back of one of the horses sat a very young girl, best guess, not too long out of diapers. Both of their faces sported the biggest smiles they could possibly manage. One of Nissa's happiest moments no doubt, preserved forever.

"Now, this is worth holdin' onto. Keep it hidden, Nissa. Don't let him take this one away from you too. Ever! He was very happy to have you in his life, just look at those faces." "Momma would've been in there with us, but she was taking the picture. I remember, she was all smiles that day, too. I miss him so much, Paulie, sometimes I can feel my heart ache. I tried for the longest time to remember his voice," her eyes welled as she spoke the words, "but it's faded. Left me, same as he did. If it weren't for this picture, I don't think..."

Suddenly, from somewhere across the field, a voice interrupted, "Nissy! Where you at?", as a look of dire concern crossed the girl's face. The words were slurred as, once again he called out, "Nit! Don't tick me off!". An almost wicked laughter followed. Her gaze had snapped to the door upon first hearing Cole's voice. He was coming. Nissa turned quickly to her new friend, "You gotta go! Gotta leave, now!" "But, I think I should..." "No, you don't know him like I do...please, for me, Paulie!" He lingered just long enough to whisper something to Goody and utter those four well-remembered words to her, "Goody will protect you." Paulie turned and darted from the shed as quickly as he could manage. The pup whined softly, but made no attempt to move from her side.

The reverie of recent events dissolved now. She'd sat quietly long enough to let her believe Cole had lost interest, given up. His pale shadow slowly stretching headlong into the room, and comment relieved her of that notion, "Heeere you are, my li'l nit. You got some 'splainin' to dooo." Goody felt an instant dislike for this obviously besotted menace, evidenced by the low growl that Nissa tried to cover, moving the guarded animal to the side.

She stood, wiping the traces of dirt and straw from her hands. "So, who was that I shaw running away? Got'choo a boyfriend, do ya?". "No, Cole, we was just...". "Oh, 'Cole' is it now? What happen'na 'Daddy'? You done got too big for 'Daddy'? Lookin' for boyfriends to teach you the ways of a man?

He stood there in front of her, teetering slightly, his eyes red and glassy as all inner light continued to fade. Her mother had chosen him largely based on his good looks. His dishwater blonde hair and prominent jaw, highlighted with killer blue eyes and perfect pearly whites, led her to believe she'd hit the jackpot. The nearly copper-colored hair across his chest and arms was a bonus for her, too. She'd begun calling him "wooly" and loved that he sported a mustache that "tickled her so much". There he was, in denim coveralls, no shirt, and what was obviously a pint of alcohol in his right pocket. He was sweating heavily, and the smell of old liquor hung in the air.

"Lookin' for some leshons are we? Well, the thingsh I can teach...letsh jus' say, Momma ain't complainin'. You been needin' nis a while now. Cole gonna show ya 'bout life. C'mere, Nit." "Stop calling me that!", her voice was raised louder than she'd intended. He reacted as expected. The back of his right hand lashed out across her cheek. She was staggered backward into the old countertop. Goody bravely rushed forward, howling, to sink his teeth into the man's leg. Cole shook and tried to loosen the pup's grip to no avail. Reaching out and sweeping the counter, he managed to find an old claw hammer. Firmly gripped, he brought the rusted tool down onto the little soldier's skull. A pitiful yelp accompanied the crunch that ended the brief battle. Cole immediately kicked the puppy away, sending him bouncing, then sliding to a halt against the wall just to left of the door.

Nissa raised her fists and began pounding at him. Screaming, crying, defenseless...he found it all very amusing, looking down at her. "Cole likes it rough, girlie...", he said as he reached to undo a hook on his coveralls, "you'll see."

Before that strap had finished its fall, there was a low whistle and rush of air. Confused by the sound, Nissa ceased her struggle. Cole dropped to his knees, finding himself suddenly face-to-face with the child he'd been charged to raise as his own, to protect and nurture selflessly. All the ways he'd failed at that must have crossed his mind as he knelt there, a perverse grin still mocking the girl, unable to move. One last wet gasp drew her attention down. Down to the point protruding from his throat. A mixture of blood and saliva bubbling at the edges. Cole fell sideways then.

Aghast, Nissa lifted her hands to her mouth. She wanted so badly to scream, but nothing came. She saw poor Goody against the wall, "Goody? Good boy?", and realized she'd gone numb. Had she spoken? Had she wanted to?Before her mind could even begin to process all these horrors, Paulie stepped back into the shed, bow still drawn and aimed.

"This ain't none'o your doin', Nissa. None of it, your fault...mine neither. He brung it on himself, had it comin'." Still unable to share a coherent thought, she rapidly nodded her head, signaling her agreement. We got work to do now...plans to make. He gently lifted his quieted boy into his arms and began to tell her what she needed to do. As they spoke, she stroked Goody's side. It began to make sense, all of it. Finished, Nissa retrieved her treasure-bearing box and rose to leave. She was surprised to find that Paulie had already done so. Nissa would see him once more before putting this behind her, once and then, perhaps never again.

Many seasons have come and gone. Nissa, now a young woman, somewhere in her mid-twenties, has blossomed and grown into a proper lady, the apple of all the young men's eyes. She never married for reasons "most personal and private", so she says. Yet, she has a recurring dream of a man lifting her high overhead as he spins her round and round before placing her atop her favorite horse. That smile and the scar slicing through his left brow hold her captive until she wakes to a mist she can't quite grasp. This dream she mentions to none. The only tragedy to alter the course of her life since childhood was Momma having a stroke a few years back and much of her time is spent providing desperately needed care to her.

She sits on the porch every day, occasionally revisiting "the plan" and how small her role had actually been. Paulie had told her to give him what time he needed, but when she heard his whistling, and lame, impersonation of a Robin...or was it a Bluejay...no matter, that was her cue to distract her mom so he could slip into Cole's truck and drive it away, carrying some of his clothes and personal items Nissa had used the time to sneak out with. She'd watched through a window as he slipped behind the wheel and disappeared.

"Where is that crazy man going now? Supper's almost done and I was about to set the table. Made his favorite, too. Did he say anything to you, honey?" "Nope. He'll probly be right back though. Outta smokes or somethin', don't fret. I'll set the table for us." But Nissa knew.

Cole was gone without a trace. No sign of him at the shed the next day. Paulie had been thorough in dealing with what remained. What she didn't know was that Paulie's plan was to include him driving away for good. To this day, she's never seen him again.

She'd made a life for herself here. Got some horses. 'Socrates', 'DeMilo', and 'Sam', named for her father. Nissa always made time for them, always made time for the ones she loved. She managed to spare a little time for herself, too. Like I said, she would sit on her porch every day, but not just to sit. She was waiting.

Every so often, a vehicle would stop at the end of her lengthy drive, just off the highway. It changed over the years, of course, so many times, she gave up keeping track. Never knew what might show up next. It would just sit there. At first, it was a bit creepy. Each time she'd head down the drive, the engine would crank and the vehicle would pull away, leaving her bewildered, wondering why.

After a while, Nissa had an inkling of what it could mean, but never dared hope. She kept her basket handy and walked the fields each time it appeared, almost always in the Spring when the wildflowers bloomed. Today would provide an unexpected surprise as, sure enough, there it was. A newer model truck for once. And this time she heard it. The distant call of an old, familiar friend. Oh, it wasn't him, but so similar as to conjure the memory of one pair of flopping ears and that relentless tongue lapping at her face.

She closed her eyes, allowing her head to drift backward. She felt the breeze on her cheeks and a joy coaxed from a cherished memory filled her heart. The warm scent of wildflowers also like the summons of an old friend wafted into range. She stood as she reached for her basket and waved at the truck slowly pulling out of sight.

Nissa had crisscrossed these fields so often, she could have made the trip blindfolded. From one fragrant patch to the next, she gathered as many as she could carry, being unerringly led to one particular spot, as always. She used the time to remember the cute young boy who'd startled her so with his brash introduction. The same boy who'd presented that brave little soldier to her so proudly. The one who'd let her win a footrace because he believed it was what she needed from him. Oh, she knew from the start, but let him have what she believed he'd needed from her. The boy who gave up what he valued most to...well, we know.

She looked down to begin placing her lovingly gathered cashe, and there, on a cross crafted from an old floor plank, were the words she'd read so many times before. Like the truck she'd just seen, the paint was new, even if the message was not:

"HERE LIES GOODY, MY TRUEST FRIEND. HE DONE HIS BEST AND EARNED HIS REST. MAY JESUS HOLD HIM IN THE END."

Sam began to neigh in the distance, another message she couldn't ignore. She had responsibilities. Momma and the boys for now, but maybe one day...maybe one day soon...she still waited for so much more.

Terry G. Nunley

[violette-hue]

Important info: Bisexual (male match for this please!), She/her

Personality info: Entp, Leo sun, Aries Moon, Leo Rising

Fandom: The Witcher

The Prompt: (Sfw) “Stop looking at me like that. People might get the impression that you’re soft.”

Personality: I can be either two ways when you first meet me. Sarcastic and laid back or a little rocky. Some people at first can see me as a bit of a...well...asshole, but I assure you i'm not that bad. I just come off a little strong sometimes. When you get to know me though, I am someone who is blunt, still very sarcastic, protective, and a little fiery, but also a huge goofball who does dumb stuff. I'm kinda like an onion (gosh I hate using that metaphor.) I have layers and the more you get to know me, the more you'll peel away. I hate being vulnerable and stray away from emotions, so I can be a bit cynical and I am soooo stubborn holy crap, but I am working on that...

-Also one more thing....I'm kinda goof. I can be serious sometimes, then other times i'll do something stupid like climb a tree and then proceed to fall from it, or play fight with someone. I also tend to do funny voices sometimes....so there's that too lol

Hobbies/likes: Lets see here....I did year around, competitive swimming for ten years, so swimming is a passion of mine and forever will be. I now do Martial Arts and i'm a high belt now. I enjoy just physical activity in general, but I also like music. Music is a love of mine. Plus I like simple things such as a good book, writing (I want to be a journalist), horror movies, and going for walks at night....oh and I adore the beach!

Dislikes: Spiders, I am terrified, petrified even of spiders.

Physical features: I'm 5'3...5'4 on a good day, pale skin with brown freckles everywhere, I have very thick brown hair that goes a little past my shoulders and it has a sort of auburn color to it actually?, i'm very skinny, like a twig, very little to no curves, big brown eyes.

(Thank you so much and congratulations on 1k!!)

Fandom: The Witcher (Geralt x Reader)

Maybe you had been too harsh to Jaskier, but you couldn’t help the sarcastic remark. He had been getting on your nerves the entire journey to the local apothecary. Why he even went was beyond you. Geralt seemed to only trust you to do this small errand. Having Jaskier along felt like this small mission would be compromised somehow.

But at least the bard had shut his mouth. You’d apologize later. Maybe.

He had sulked behind you in the small building as you gathered what Geralt had asked you for. Jaskier reminded of you of a small puppy. Or perhaps a toddler. You pushed your annoyance to the side to get the task at hand completed and hoped it’d be a fast journey back.

It wasn’t until you’d returned to camp that you’d felt some shred of guilt. Though what you said was intended as a joke, it had been harsh. You peaked over at Jaskier. He was frowning down at his food, his normally easy going mood replaced by one of…melancholy? Gods he was so dramatic.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Geralt asked you once you were alone.

You sighed deeply. Of course Geralt would pick up on the sudden change of moods. It wasn’t like Jaskier to be quiet for more than a second. You told Geralt what happened—what you had said. Your fingers found catch on some loose strands of fabric from your leave.

When Geralt didn’t immediately respond, you looked up. You were surprised to see a smile gracing his features. His eyes softened, reflecting the light of the full moon. Your heart tugged, and you suddenly didn’t feel too bad about what you had said. You smiled, a slight blush hearing your neck.

“Stop looking at me like that. People might get the impression that you’re soft.”

[auughsoundeffect]

Guzma x oc

Chapter 5: Live a little

We met up again shortly after getting our stuff. Even though I had a nagging feeling that this would be a bad idea, considering how worried Hala was the last time we were out after sunset and that it was probably my responsibility to say no to his sudden ideas. Regardless I decided to say ‘fuck it’ and live a little.

“I really want a lycanroc. Unfortunately they’re on another island.” Hau whined while we were heading out. I smiled at him while thinking about what the other islands and what they could possibly look like.

He explained that Melemele island was pretty small and not packed with wildlife like some other islands were, but we still managed to find a huge patch of grass not so far away.

He turned around and put his index finger in front of his mouth. He went up to me and whispered “it’s past my curfew, so let’s not get near that house over there” I assumed he knew who lived there and foolishly enough I obliged to the little boy.

Going through countless yungoos, Meowths and wingulls we finally found something interesting. Hau catches a growlithe and even though it seemed hard he managed to keep his excitement down so he wouldn’t alert anyone.

“I always wanted one of these.” He whispered as loud as he could. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was absolutely ecstatic and proud of his recent catch.

“You only have Galvantula on your team?” Hau asked, I kinda just nodded and continued my search for the perfect Pokémon to add to my team, I didn’t care whether it was strong or not, I just wanted to make a Pokémon team for the cute but edgy aesthetic for now.

I almost lost hope until I got ambushed and to my surprise it was a misdreavus. Tiny floating ghost type with quite the temper, it needed to be mine no matter what. Getting Galvantula to use its weakest attacks so the poor little thing wouldn’t faint on the spot.

After a lot of work to not sabotage my plans for myself, I was rewarded with a heal ball that housed my second addition to my team. I was over the moon. Eventually we got tired and went on our way home.

All was well until we reached Hala’s place and those hooligans were at it again, this time with a bucket of blue and pink paint back on the wooden battle stage once more.

Hau went ahead of me and darted in their direction without an afterthought and out of concern I went right after him. Heart beating out of my chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Hau’s voice was drenched with disbelief, his voice cracked at the end of his sentence, which caused some laughs in return. The girl with the pigtails was also there just staring at Hau.

Her features were sharp and intimidating, her make up only enhanced those features. “Why??” Hau repeated sounding desperate. I didn’t want to be rough with Hau since he was in his feelings but I was scared for him and grabbed his arm.

“Hau stop.” He looked back at me with teary eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. The look on his face made something inside of me snap.

I let go of him and went right up to the girl with pigtails myself and slapped her so hard the sound echoed through the whole area.

Obviously the gang member didn’t take too kindly of the gesture and grabbed my face. Her acrylic nails dug into my cheeks on each side of my face as her yellow eyes pierced through mine.

I got myself into this so there was no point in getting all cowardly and trying to flee. Where was I supposed to run to anyways? I was already at Hala’s place.

Good thing her hair was long so I quickly grabbed it and pulled. She yelped in response. Despite inflicting pain on her I was still surprised she’d make any noise.

She let go of my face and grabbed my hands instead, trying to get me to let her go. I kept pulling and eventually her whole body was bent on reflex. I guess, when you rely on Pokémon battles more than tussling you end up not knowing what to do.

As soon as I saw her having an unstable posture I took the chance to push her down the stage. I wasn’t trying to find out whether she’s had enough or not so I jumped her while she was trying to get up from the ground.

I sat on top of her, slapping her face, and throwing sand and dirt in her face. She squinted her eyes and tried to spit out whatever got into her mouth.

She grabbed my hair and punched me. On impact it hurt a lot and I got a little dizzy from it, but I wasn’t going to stop there.

I bit her arm next to my face as hard as I could, she started screaming and kicking trying to get me to get off of her.

My jaw got tired and she pushed me off of her and ran off with her grunts following her. I could hear them ask her if she was okay and so on.

I stood up and looked at Hau. He looked frightened by what happened.

“Why would you do that??” He nearly raised his voice. He looked like he was about to cry. I didn’t know what would be best to do or say.

“I’d prefer to get hurt instead of you.” I answered and made my way into Hala’s house, Hau following behind me.

[a-chlolix-blog]

So, I noticed you have an Oc list and wanted to ask if you could add two of these OCs of mine. I do enjoy some of the new details that you are adding in the au so here is the first one.

Name: Kishimoto Lyn 

Date of birth: 31/10 - Scorpion 

Nationality: Japanese 

Age: 18  Height: 1m80  Weight: 65kg  Hair color and style: dark red mixed with grey/ wolf cut  Eye color: amber  Complexion and skin tone: light, fair skin 

Character’s body build: Mesomorph 

Character back story: unknown  Identifying marks: scar around her neck  Facial features: almond eyes, strong jawline   Hand features: Visible tendon, long   Scent: Fresh minty wooden forest  Mannerisms or gestures: 

+ Speaks in a whispery or manly husky voice 

+ Rubbing the neck when embarrassed 

+ Raised eyebrows 

+ Head on the chin in resting position (flirt) 

+ Jaw clenching in moments of tension 

+Like to flirt but still a gentle(wo)man 

+ Biting the bottom lip 

+ Sideways glance 

+Likes to wink 

+Never break eye contact 

+ Snapping fingers to gain attention 

+ Pinching the bridge of the nose 

+Rubbing the temple 

+ Tightly clenched hands 

+Running a hand through the hair 

+Rubbing the eyes 

+Picking or pinching at the flesh 

+Tracing scars without thinking 

+Flexing fingers 

+Cracking knuckles 

+Drumming fingers on a surface 

+Tight, drawn-in shoulders when sitting 

+Broad stance when standing 

Strongest personality traits: Steadfast, Passionate, Finicky, Impulsive  Weakest personality traits: understanding, clear-headed  Needs of the character: Built more social trust to some people except from her gf. Be more responsible when flirting with the clubs.  Ambitions: Having peace around the world, no villain, monster and live in a small mansion on a beautiful garden up at the hill, watching the sunset.  Sibling’s names and descriptions: no data  Favorite sayings: “touch () and you will regret it”  Interests and hobbies: Like sports, flirting with girls while in the mood, doing works, running, a brilliant in programming and work with technology/ robot.  Favorite foods: junk food, fruit.  Dislike foods: vegetable 

Favorite colors: Red, Lapis, Pacific blue.  Pets: puppy (Black Labrador)  Education: Third year of highschool  Future plans: Inventing something that could assisted the heroes, her lover.  Possessions this character values most: sun-moon couple ring  What drives your character: An idealistic person that can achieve their goal easily without hesitation.  How does your character handle conflict: Quietly listen and solves it smoothly or have a fiery argument  What is standing in your character’s way: Heroes – Villains.  What is their favorite room and why: Bedroom, there’s a reason why.  Favorite sport(s): Running – Dodgeball – Martial art  How does your character feel about love: Obsessive over it  What is your character’s philosophy on life: “Live, Re-live and continue to live until you can’t feel it anymore. Chance of being born into this world only come once and you must appreciate it”  What is your character’s family life like: No family – currently dating Zaria 

She has 3 moods: 

+ Serious/ Focus mood 

+ Devilish flirty mood 

+ Innocent mood (rarely seen) 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

He’s a girl. Yes, I know what I’m saying. He’s a girl who love crossdressing in male uniform and clothing. Due to his appearance is bit of masculine, all the people who first met him would definitely think him as a boy with his pronoun usually an “I” no one really noticed the different. Yet individuals surrounded him also used he/him, no one really sus about his real gender, well, except for Zaria who knew his secret.  

He can usually spot in sporty, tomboy clothing and rarely seems to wear dress or feminine clothing. With his appearance he has a mood changed depending on the day he felt. In his flirty mood, he often used his handsome appearance to flirt with other girls, making them fall into his charm, which much annoyed to Zaria (jealousy).  

He can be an intimidated, silence school president who's in a focus tension that cannot be broken. He’s also straightforward and a lone wolf who can swiftly come up a plan and work out his problem (with his beloved girlfriend’s assist), he also really loyal and seems to be softer when around Zaria, which he’s rarely, RARELY raises his voice around her. 

P/s: He’s the president of the Fortuna Academy student council, he is based on Haruka Tenoh in Sailor Moon. 

This character seems to be really cool. I'll see what I can do about adding him.

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

Re-done Tag Dump: Dynamics (3/6)

[ofragesaesthetics]

Tag Dump 14