#Jace

[jacelandon]

November DWC 2024 Day 4 - Tranquil

He had assumed her to be a spirit at first. She wasn’t the first nor would she be the last unfamiliar soul that Jace encountered in these parts; it was common knowledge among the carnies that should you perish on Darkmoon Island, it was difficult, if not impossible, to leave. It wasn’t a frightening sight, nor unusual for the ghosts to gain enough energy and show themselves every now and then, especially during the witching hours. 

She didn’t notice him watching her, nor did she seem to have any qualms about stepping into that dark forest, hand extended in front of herself as if she were being led. Curiosity got the better of Jace and he quietly followed; he was one of the few that had nothing to fear here, and if she were just a spirit, neither should she. He wrapped his arms around his core to aid in keeping the warmth in, the forests could get chilly during the night and despite the thick canopy of trees and foliage, it had always felt colder here than anywhere else on the island. 

Her movements were graceful, almost like those of a trained ballerina, and her opalescent, sheer gown did nothing to shield her against the frigid temperature; not that she seemed to care. When she reached the clearing at the center of the forest, she paused, unblinking. There she stood and stared for what felt like hours at something unseen; light, wavy hair billowing in the breezeless space. It was completely devoid of sound here, almost as if one were inside of an anechoic chamber. The fauna knew to avoid this cursed place, making it all the more unsettling. Jace could hear the sound of his own heart beating and blood circulating through his veins, even with shallow breaths, he could hear his lungs and diaphragm expanding and contracting with each gentle rise and fall.

It was always uncomfortable, but he was mesmerized. 

Eventually she stepped closer to the center of the clearing, arm extending and reaching for something he couldn’t see. With a slight shift of his weight, a branch creaked beneath his boot and the spectral woman startled and stumbled backwards, an expression of horror replacing the previously tranquil one. But she wasn’t looking at him, she was still staring at something unseen to him and suddenly vanished.

Jace stood up straighter and briskly made his way towards the space she had previously occupied, looking around for something, anything. He wasn’t even sure what. 

She was gone.

He made his way back towards his camp with a melody in his head that demanded to be written down: Her theme. Everyone had their own theme, and sometimes it took a while for him to determine what would fit a specific person. However, once he had his empty staff paper in hand, the entire song flowed freely.

~ 1 ½ Years Later ~

Jace sat on the ledge at Fancy Cakes, sipping quietly on his coffee as he watched the other patrons. Indulging in some sweet treats was an excellent way to begin a night of busking, and he tried to make it a habit to come here at least once a month. 

The evening was relatively quieter than usual, but he never minded just chilling and being with others. Deep blue eyes watched as the blonde-haired woman wandered up the steps to give her order to Braedyn, and when she turned around he nearly choked on his coffee. He didn’t give himself away, his poker face had grown too strong throughout the years of working for Silas Darkmoon. It had been well over a year now, but he knew. The theme came back into his mind the moment he saw her face.

This was her. The ‘spirit’ he had seen in the Darkmoon Forest. Alive and in the flesh. How could this be possible?

This references a story you can read ---> HERE

@daily-writing-challenge @karaamberlight

[gayrotic2]

[bbygirl-aemond]

the way ulf strolled right up to jace like "look at that hair" and "as dark as they say!" and "dragonriders both, you and i!" and "cut from the same cloth!" and i just know jace was standing there like

[gayroticplus]

[emptyjunior]

Hey hey hey uh oh uh oh, remember the yuletide ep, Riz that's not still on you is it. You don't still have that silver with you do you. You're not holding onto a magical spell component sent to you by a sorceror are you

[valyrianheirs]

Rhaenyra and Jace BTS shot | House of the Dragon Season 2

[gayrotic]

Jace

[softspiderling]

oh

[gifcity]

"i'm pretty when i cry"

[the-fiction-witch]

I Am Your Wife

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader + (Mentioned) Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - Sad + Sweet Word Count - 6875

Y/n marched inside the royal chambers, she soon saw Aegon lying in the bed half drunk still from last night, she stood at the foot of their bed in her emerald gown, her arms crossed as she waited for him to speak,

Aegon recognised that look on her face immediately as it was a look she had very often,

He rubs his eyes with a hand, then tries to comb his fingers through his messy hair to look somewhat presentable, rather than the unkempt bird’s nest it had become after last night’s activities. “What is it?” He mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

"where were you?"

Aegon sighs deeply, knowing exactly what this is about. He runs a hand along his jaw, scratching over the skin. He had hoped to wake up earlier than her to avoid this whole dance, “Do you really want me to answer that?” He deadpans.

"Aegon you were supposed to be back to tuck Marcus into bed"

Damnit. Aegon grits his fangs together at the reminder, having hoped at least one of those responsibilities had been forgotten about. “I lost track of time, alright?” He mutters, avoiding her gaze and staring at the bedsheets instead.

"you could have at least apologized to your son at breakfast for not putting him to bed like you’d promised"

Guilt flares in his chest at that; he knew this was just as much about Marcus as it was about him. “I’m sorry.” He manages to get out, voice still hoarse from sleep. Aegon glances up at her, meeting her eyes and searching her face to gauge her reaction.

"well sorry doesn't make him sleep, he was up all night waiting for daddy to come and tuck him in and he's been crying since sunrise"

Damnit. Aegon groans, frustration and guilt battling in his chest. He knew that was what she’d say, that she’d use it against him. He should have come home last night, he should have tucked Marcus in and stayed the night in his own damn bed. He rubs his hand across his face, sighing again. “I’ll go and apologise now, how’s that?” He mutters.

"no. You won't disturb him. He’s gone for a hot bath and the maids are taking him to the dragon pit so he can spend time with his dragon"

Aegon deflates completely at that, guilt and disappointment coursing through him, his head hanging slightly as he lets his chin rest on his hand. “Right.” He mutters quietly in response. He knows a reprimand is coming from her, and he knows it’s fully warranted. It doesn’t stop the pang of irritation though, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I have one damn night off, and that makes me a horrible father?”

"one night off? You do this constantly and have been for months"

Aegon tries to keep his expression stoic as her berates him, doing his best to not look like a wounded and scolded puppy.“It’s not-” He began to say, then stopped himself with a shake of his head. No, there was no point in making excuses or attempting to justify himself. “It’s just been a busy month.” He sighed instead. “We have a lot going on and I-” He cuts himself off again with a frustrated groan. Damnit, he wanted a fight, but he knew her were completely, utterly right with his one.

she sighed and turned to leave

Aegon sits and watches her go, feeling like an idiot. “Wait!” He calls out, wincing at how pleading he sounded. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands up and goes after her, catching her wrist before she can stride out of the bedroom doors. A hint of vulnerability crosses his features as he gently pulls her to a stop, forcing her to face him. “Wait.” He repeats in a low murmur, his hand still holding firmly to her wrist. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between her. “Don’t go.”

"There's no point arguing with her Aegon. It doesn't fix anything. If you want to spend your nights drinking and whoring, then don't make promises to your children" she said pointedly but it was clear she was exhausted by arguing with him "or me." She adds before leaving

Aegon watches her leave, feeling utterly defeated. It was true, he’d broken more promises than he could count, but it hurt seeing the disappointment on herr face, and the resignation in herr voice when her gave up arguing with him. But more than that, it hurt that Marcus had been crying the entire morning, waiting for him, his father, to come home and tuck him in. He was a shitty father, he knew that, but it hurt knowing that everyone else realised it too. Damnit. Aegon lets out a frustrated huff, resisting the childish urge to kick the bed frame. He glances between the door her left through, and the bed he had been so comfortable in just moments ago. He knows he could just go back to sleep. It would be so much easier than having to deal with the aftermath of the night before. But he can still feel her wrist in his fingers, and hear the resignation in her voice when she spoke of him breaking promises. With a resigned huff, Aegon grabs his clothes from the floor and shrugs them on.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the dragon pit, walking through his usual route without pausing to greet the guards or nod to the courtiers he passes by. The guilt still gnaws at his chest with every step he takes, but he tries his best to ignore it. He just wants to apologise to Marcus, and hopefully stop him crying. He finds his son in the dragon pits, as she said he would be. He smiles slightly seeing Marcus, now dressed in riding leathers, standing by Sunfyre looking up at his golden scales.

Marcus was always fascinated with Sunfyre, Marcus loved Sunfyre perhaps even more than he loved his own little dragon Silvercloud. Marcus let tears slip looking at Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh of disappointment at the sight of the tears on his son’s face. It hurt more than anything seeing his son so upset, and knowing it was his fault. He hated the fact that there was no one to blame but himself. His smile fell at the realisation of how his young son looked at his dragon. It stung, knowing that Sunfyre had a better relationship with Marcus, than Aegon had with his own son. Aegon forced himself to walk closer. He stopped a few feet away from Marcus, not wanting to come any closer and startle him. His gaze flicked over the boy, checking for any signs of injury, although something told him he wasn’t crying because of anything physical. With a deep breath Aegon called out, his voice quiet but firm. “Marcus?”

"good day" he sighed moving to pet his own small dragon SilverCloud still too young for him to ride after the dragon had hatched him Marcus's cradle

Aegon flinched at the words, and at the complete indifference in Marcus’s voice. When the boy failed to turn to look at him, Aegon felt a pang of guilt stab through his chest. His shoulders slumped slightly, trying desperately to ignore the hurt he felt from his son’s cold response, especially after the entire morning he had. Aegon cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking closer to Marcus. “Can I talk to you?”

the boy shrugged Petting his small dragon

Aegon took a deep breath. This was all so goddamn uncomfortable. It was rare that he got this nervous talking to anyone, let alone his own son. He cleared his throat awkwardly again, trying to figure out what exactly he should say. “I just- uh- I-” Goddamn it. Why was this so hard? Aegon forced the words out through his teeth. “I just wanted to uh… apologise. For not being there last night.”

"your never here."

The words stabbed through Aegon, more painful than any physical wound. Because it was true. He’d broken another promise to his son, yet again. Damnit. He knew this would be hard, that it would be difficult to have to admit his fault. But actually hearing the words from his son hurt more than expected. Aegon swallowed, trying desperately to keep his expression passive. “I know.” He managed to mutter out. “I’ve messed up a lot, and I keep messing up. I’m… I’m sorry.”

"you always say that! And then you never do what you say you're gonna do! It's not fair! Not fair to me. Or on Marybelle. Or mother." The boy shouted, "... Words don't mean anything, actions do." The boy said before taking his dragon back into its cave "I hope things are better... For baby" Marcus said which froze Aegon to the core as he heard no word about babies

Aegon was stunned into silence, his throat tightening so badly that he thought it might snap. Aegon couldn’t hear anything else over the rushing of blood in his ears. Baby. No. Please gods no. With unsteady, shaking hands, Aegon took a step forward, eyes wide in panic. “What… what baby?”

"Mother is having another baby..." Marcus answered

Seven hells no. Please no. Aegon almost stopped breathing altogether in that moment. Another baby? He took another shaky step forward, trying to quell the panic rising within him. “But- how do you know- you’re sure?” He managed to croak out.

"she told me and Marybelle were getting another brother or sister"

Aegon’s insides twisted themselves into a knot, his eyes wide and breathing shallow. Not again. The thought of another child, another baby. It wasn’t even the child itself he was afraid of. It was everything else. Aegon stared at his son, eyes boring into him, desperately hoping that it was some elaborate prank. “you’re sure?” He repeated. Tell me this is a lie.

"she told us both, and she's having a new crib made." Marcus nodded before he took his dragon away

It took everything in Aegon’s power not to collapse at those words. He stared at the cave that Marcus had just retreated into, trying desperately to keep his breathing steady and his mind straight. He’d just discovered that she was having another child. Another child that he’d probably fail to be a good father to. Aegon stumbled slightly out of the cave and towards a nearby wall, leaning against it for support as he forced his mind to focus. He stood against the wall, hands clenched into fists and breathing deep. Aegon could feel the panic and dread flooding through his mind, drowning out any logical thought. No. No. This time would be different. He’d promised himself so many times before that things would be different with Marcus. But it hadn’t worked before. He couldn’t even keep a goddamn promise with Marcus, and now there was a new one on the way. A new little baby that he’d likely fail to provide for. A wave of nausea crashed over Aegon, making him clutch at his stomach in an attempt to keep it down. He couldn’t go through this again. This time he’d have three children to look after, he didn’t have the energy or time to keep failing as a father. Aegon took another shaky breath, pushing away from the wall and attempting to remain upright.

He needed to talk to her.

He needed to know everything. He needed her to tell him every word she had said to the kids, every detail about this new baby.

Aegon headed back to the red keep, As he entered the library and found Y/n and Marybelle working on the embroideries, a fresh wave of panic and nausea coursed through his body. He swallowed, hoping that neither of her could see the turmoil that was raging within him. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we… can we talk?”

"go on?" Y/n shrugged as she helped Marybelle work

Aegon hesitated, he felt oddly like a child about to confess to breaking something. With a sharp breath in he forced himself to speak. “It’s about the baby.” He said, the words feeling like lead in his mouth.

Y/n looks up at him and sighed, she did a final stitch placing the work on the table and lifting little Marybelle off the seat in her pale green dress "Run along now sweetling, go find your brother and go play in the garden Alright" she told Marybelle who happily ran off with her maids shutting the door behind them, Y/n sighed and ran a hand over her stomach "Go on Aegon."

Aegon watched as Marybelle left the room, leaving the two of them in silence. He forced his eyes back on her, staring at the hand she had placed on her stomach. His mind was racing, his heart was racing, his stomach was in knots. He wanted desperately to look away, so that he didn’t have to confront the baby that was inside her. “How… how far along are you?”

"four months"

Aegon felt his stomach twist once more at her answer, this time so violently that he was worried he might actually throw up. He took another deep shaking breath, trying desperately to calm his mind enough to figure out what to say. There were too many thoughts racing through him; anger, fear, dread, guilt. “Why?” He whispered, the word coming out more like a gasp than a question. “After everything… after the other two… why?”

"what I do with my children is my business"

Aegon bristled at her response, he didn’t like hearing those words. her children. Like he had no claim to them. He took a step closer, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side. His eyes bore into hers, and the fear was evident in his gaze. “They’re my children too.” He muttered lowly. “I have every right to know.”

"well you know now don't you,'

Aegon felt his blood boil at her nonchalant attitude and sharp words, his fear slowly being overtaken with irritation and frustration as the two of her stared each other down. “Yes I know now! Because Marcus told me!” Aegon snapped, gesturing back at the door. “Why was I the last to know?!”

"Because your never here! You never ask! You never ask how I am, or talk to your children, or talk to me."

Aegon hated when she was right, although he would never admit that aloud. Her words stung, hitting him in a way that he wasn’t expecting. He’d only just begun to feel the weight of his absence, and now her were shoving it in his face. “I- I-“ he sputtered, trying to force the right words out. “That’s not the point. You should have told me.”

"Why would I? her have no interest in the children" she snapped "I am having another child because they make me happy. They are all I have in this world as you show me no attention or affection at all, they are all I have and without them, I would be sat alone waiting for you to wonder home drunk"

Aegon’s face fell at her words, his mind going blank as he heard her say that, It hurt worse than a punch to the gut, and made him feel a thousand times more guilty than he did before. He opened his mouth several times to say something, but each time his words got stuck in his throat and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Finally, he managed to croak out. “You… you have me.”

"do I?" She asked a tear slipping from her eyes "My husband prefers whores to his marriage bed, my husband drinks a barrel of wine a day, I never see him, we never speak, we only ever argue over his failed promises to our children”

Aegon fell speechless as he saw the tear slip from her eyes. He’d seen her cry before, of course, but never like this. This wasn’t over anger or frustration. This was pain, real pain. He wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close in an attempt to fix everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to move, or even look her in the eye. Because everything she said was true. And he hated himself for it all. “I…” he muttered, trying once again to force words out of his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

How could he defend himself against the truth? He did drink too much, he had spent more nights in brothels than he would care to count. He did fail to keep his promises to her and the children. Everything she said was completely true, and no amount of excuses could cover it up.

"you never do" she answered wiping her tears "you need not worry yourself over this baby, not like you'll care when it's born anyway"

Aegon flinched at the last part of her sentence. She was completely right. He had failed to be there for the birth of Marcus and of Marybelle, and he had failed to provide for them in the way that they deserved. And now there was another coming. Another child to make him feel even more guilty, and another child that he would fail to take care of. It was a vicious cycle that he didn’t know how to break. “That- that’s not true.” He protested weakly. “That’s not- I would care.” He muttered though he himself didn’t really believe it. There was something about seeing her there in front of him, a tear making a track down her face. Something about knowing that there was a baby inside of her, It made him feel sick to his stomach to think of how he was going to fail this baby too.

she shook her head "You need not worry over it."

“Stop saying that.” Aegon snapped, irritation bleeding into his voice. her kept telling him not to worry, telling him that everything was fine. “I can’t just not worry! There’s a baby… there’s our baby… and you keep telling me not to worry, like I don’t have to, and like everything is fine.”

"it's not your baby!"

“Excuse me?!” What did you just say? Aegon stared at her, shock and anger written all over his face. “Not my baby?” He repeated. “It’s a child that we created. It was my seed that started this child’s life. How is it, not my baby?!”

"It wasn't your seed. Aegon you haven't touched me since Marybelle was born, too busy with the whores to spend a night with your wife"

Aegon was silent after that. He couldn’t argue against it. her were once again completely right. He hadn’t touched her since before Marybelle’s birth, he could have sworn one or two nights he had made it to his marriage bed before unloading his seed and passing out but even of that he wasn’t sure, and he hadn’t given a second thought to her or how she felt about it. He’d been too focussed on the whores, the wine, his own needs. Shame and self-disgust washed over him, and he found that he couldn’t look at her for a moment. “That…” he began, trailing off as his voice grew hoarse. A wave of shame crashed over Aegon, making his stomach twist with guilt and nausea. He swallowed, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"Aegon. You are not the father of the child inside me. You haven't touched me. I know this child is not yours"

It was like a dagger through the heart. her said it so casually as if it was just a simple fact. But he heard the pain in her voice, the hurt that he’d caused by not being there for her. And he could see the truth in her eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself and say that the child was still his. But a sick feeling of dread was already pooling in his gut as he realized the truth. He wasn’t the father of this baby. He’d made sure of that himself. Aegon’s throat felt like it was closing up again, leaving him staring at the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He felt weak. He felt sick. He felt guilty. “You… you slept with someone else?” He managed to force out the words, his voice low and shaking.

"you were gone. You never touched me. If you can take your nights sharing beds with a hundred common whores... I see no reason I cannot find a company of my own”

Aegon stiffened at her words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. He was a hypocrite. How many whores had he slept with while he’d been away? More than he cared to count. And yet here he was, getting upset over her having found someone else. He didn’t know how to respond. He felt nauseous and his mouth had gone dry, but he tried to speak anyway. “Who… who was it?”

"... I ... I don't wish to tell,"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her response, irritation and anger bubbling up within him. “Why not?!” He snapped. “you just told me that the baby isn’t mine, that you’ve been with someone else. And now you’re refusing to tell me who it was?”

"what does it matter? Are you going to sit and tell me the names of every whore you've been with? Tell me each name of every bastard down silk row you've fathered? So why should I tell you"

“Because-” Aegon stopped short, his response dying on his tongue. He wanted to deny it, to insist that it did matter to him. But deep down he knew she were right. He had no right to ask her to tell him who she found comfort in. Not when he himself had bedded countless whores over the past years. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he swallowed thickly as he tried to figure out what to say. “Because…” he began again, his voice low and shaky. “I don’t care about the whores. I would never care about them.” He took a deep breath, forcing the words out of his mouth. “Because… this is different. Because this one is different, because I… I…” He trailed off, his voice trembling as tears formed in his eyes. He’d never seen the situation from her perspective before. He’d failed her completely, and left her alone while he went off to whorehouses.

she sighed and stroked her stomach "... Jacaerys. Jacaerys Velaryon."

Aegon froze, his eyes going wide with shock. Jacaerys Velaryon.

Of all people, it had to be him. He felt his hands shaking, and his stomach threatened to upheave. He knew Jacaerys had been spending a lot of time with her, but he had just assumed it was his imagination. “Jacaerys?” He repeated, his voice a whisper. “you… you slept with… him?”

"... He was my betrothal once. Before you and I were married, Jacaerys and I were betrothed. You ignore me these days and his bride prefers the company of women... We find comfort in each other"

Aegon felt like he was going to be sick. He knew that she and Jacaerys had been betrothed. Everyone knew that. But he hadn’t considered the possibility that she would turn to him for comfort. The thought of the two of them together made his stomach churn. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her, holding her, looking at her with desire in their eyes. “you’re… you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

"how I feel about him is irrelevant. I am your wife. I am your bride. I will do my duty as long as I live. But I will find my comfort as you find yours.”

Aegon felt his heart shatter in his chest as she spoke. She was his bride, his wife, and the mother of his children. But she did not love him, not anymore. She loved Jacaerys. “Why him?” He rasped. “Why not anyone else?”

"We find comfort together, we each have a partner who doesn't care for our needs and desires. And he's always been so sweet to the children"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her words. He didn't want to hear about how Jacaerys was, how sweet and caring and loving he was. Jacaerys was everything that Aegon wasn't. He was thoughtful, he was sweet, he was kind. He didn't spend his days in brothels or drunk in taverns. Aegon wanted to say he would change, he wanted to try and make things better between the two of her. But would she even believe him anymore? Or would she run back into Jacaerys' arms the first chance she got? “Do you…” Aegon began, his voice a whisper. “Do you love him?”

He didn’t want to hear the answer. He hoped that she would say no. That she would say she didn’t love Jacaerys, and that she only found comfort in the idea of being with someone who actually cared about her. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t it. He knew she loved Jacaerys, more than she had ever loved Aegon. And the thought of that made him want to die.

"... I am your wife." She repeated,

Aegon hated that answer. It wasn’t a yes or a no. her weren’t denying it, but weren’t confirming it either. He had always prided himself on the fact that he could tell when people were lying to him, but right now she was unreadable. He gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. “That’s not an answer.” He growled.

"I am your wife. And I'm here. If I didn't love you don't her think I'd have packed my things, taken the children and flown to Dragonstone to be with Jacaerys!" She shouted "But no. I am here. I am your wife. Mother to your children, your heirs. I stay. Because I love you. I have remained through the humiliation of your behaviour because I love you. I have sat here knowing there are bastards throughout this city any of which have a claim over my true-born children if you so much as legitimised them." She explained through gritted teeth "I am here because I love you. I have endured all of it because I love you."

Aegon’s face fell further as she spoke. She stayed by his side the entire way. Despite the whores, despite the bastards, her were still his wife and she’d stayed. He felt small and shamed under her gaze. her had done everything for him, she had loved him, and he hadn’t done the same for her. “Then… then why did you sleep with Jacaerys?” He mumbled, the words feeling like ash in his mouth. “If… if you love me…”

"as I said. We give each other comfort. No different from the comfort you find with your whores"

Aegon flinched at her words. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to say it wasn’t the same at all. But he knew He had no excuse, no justification for why it was different when he went to whores. His shoulders slumped and he looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not the same.” He mumbled weakly.

"how is it not the same? The only difference is that he doesn't throw me a gold coin when we're done"

Aegon winced. That was so much more different than he had expected. His jaw clenched and he clenched his fists, irritation sparking through him at her words. “It’s… it’s different because they’re whores.” He muttered. “They’re whores. Not… not…”

He trailed off, unable to find the words to defend himself. She was the mother of his children, his wife. His queen. Compared to them, the whores were nothing.

"not what?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He wanted to say that they meant nothing to him, that the whores were just a means to an end, just a way for him to forget his troubles for a few hours. But he knew that wasn’t true. The whores were his vices, his weakness and he’d let them take over his life. “They’re… they don’t mean anything to me.” He tried weakly. “They’re just whores, that’s it.”

"and jockeys mean nothing to me. I love you, I am your wife. We simply find comfort together when we cannot get it from our marriages"

Aegon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, her words washing over him. It was a bitter pill to swallow. He didn’t want to hear her talk about Jacaerys that way. He didn’t want to think about her spending her nights with him, finding comfort in his arms. Not when she should have been finding that comfort in his arms. “And… and is that all it is? Just… comfort?” He asked lowly, barely keeping a hint of anger from his voice.

"that is all it is. And if you had given me such comfort I would not need to see him at all"

Gods damn it. Aegon wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that he would have given her that comfort if she’d just asked him. But he knew that wasn’t true. He knew that they’d barely spoken to each other in over years, never mind sharing any sort of intimate moment. He swallowed nervously and looked down at the ground. “And if… if I started trying to give you that comfort?”

"then I would have no need to visit him"

Aegon felt a small flicker of hope at those words. If he tried, if he made an effort, then maybe she would see that she didn’t need Jacaerys in her life. That she didn’t need to cheat on him and break their marital vows. He took a shaky breath and swallowed thickly, looking up at her. “…and you would stop seeing him, then?”

"I would if you did provide the comfort you are promising... However, you have broken many promises before so... Don't assume I would trust you. And if you were to not seek comfort in your whores. Perhaps you'd have the time for your wife"

Aegon felt stung by the last part of her comment. He wanted to flinch at the thought that she didn’t trust him to give her what she needed. But why should she? He hadn’t exactly given her a reason to trust him in the past. He sighed and nodded. “I…” he began, his throat dry. “I won’t go to whores anymore. I promise.”

"words don't mean anything. Actions do" She said the same words Marcus had said to him, showing where the boy had gotten such a phrase

Aegon felt his jaw clenched at her response. He could promise and vow over and over that he would stop seeing whores, but it didn’t mean anything until he actually did it. He took a deep breath, the thought of going without a whore for that long made him shiver. But he was determined to prove to her that he meant what he said. He nodded again, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right.” He mumbled. “I… I’ll do it. No whores.”

"and so long as her see no whores I shall not see Jacaerys. At least not intimately, I may have to see him socially"

Aegon’s expression soured as she spoke. He didn’t want her seeing Jacaerys at all, no matter how “socially” it was. But he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had agreed to stop seeing whores, and she had agreed to stop being intimate with Jacaerys. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. He nodded again, forcing the words past his lips. “Fine. But I don’t… I don’t want her alone with him.”

"I promise I won't be alone with him, I shall only see him if social events call for it"

Aegon felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at her words. He still didn’t like the idea of her spending time with Jacaerys, social or otherwise. But as long as she promised her wouldn’t be alone with him, he could deal with it. “Fine. That’s… that’s good enough for me.”

He mumbled. “I won’t go to whores, and she won’t be alone with Jacaerys. That’s the deal.”

she nodded

Aegon clenched his fists, his knuckles going white as he tried to maintain his composure. He didn’t really want to have this conversation. The thought of discussing the child her were carrying, Jacaerys’ child, made him feel like he wanted to be sick. But he knew it was a conversation that needed to be had. “What… what do you want to do about it?” He asked, forcing the words past his dry mouth.

she shivered her hands stroking her bump "I would like to keep it, I understand if he must be treated differently, as a bastard, sent away when he's older. But I would like to keep him... unless you want me to.... rid... myself."

Aegon clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He didn’t want the child. The thought of seeing this bastard every day, a reminder of her time with Jacaerys, was more than he could handle.

But he knew he couldn’t demand she rid herself of it. He couldn’t force her to terminate the pregnancy if she didn’t want to. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Keep it, then.” He mumbled. “Raise it how you like, it’s yours.”

"Aegon, I don't want to keep it... if he will have a hellish life. if you will hate him."

Aegon shifted uncomfortably at her words. A part of him wanted to insist that he would try to love the boy. That it wasn’t the child’s fault they were a bastard, and he wouldn’t hold it against them. But another part of him knew that it wouldn’t matter. Every time he looked at the kid, he wouldn’t see anything except a reminder that she had cheated on him. He swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t think… I don’t think I’ll be able to love the child.” He mumbled quietly.

"Never?"

Aegon clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her as he spoke. “Never.” He mumbled. He hated himself for saying it. He knew the child was innocent, it wasn’t their fault they were a bastard. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love a child that would be the constant reminder of her infidelity.

"... I understand," she nodded sadly "Even if I was to have him? and send him away?"

Aegon’s heart twisted at the sadness in her tone. On one hand, at least if she sent the child away then he wouldn’t have to look at it every day. There would be no constant reminder of her infidelity, no need to try and love a child that was a product of love she gave to another.

But on the other hand, the thought of her giving up the child because he didn’t want it… it broke his heart, to think he would force her to send her child away. “Send it away when he’s born.” He mumbled.

Y/n nodded, trembling her hands on her belly as fears began to flood down her cheeks but she made no sound

Aegon felt a pang in his chest as he saw the tears begin to fall down her cheeks, his heart clenching at the sight. A part of him wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and comfort her. To tell her that he’d changed his mind, and that he’d come to love the child. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The thought of lying to her, of saying that he could love the child just to see her smile, was too much to bear. He stood there, frozen and unable to move, as the tears continued to fall from her eyes. His chest felt tight with guilt and regret, his mind screaming at him to say something, to do something to make her smile. But he was frozen in place, forced to stand there and watch as she cried in front of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. “I… I’m…” he stammered, the words dying on his tongue. He took a step towards her, his arms itching to reach out and hold her. To pull her against him and tell her it would be alright. But he stopped himself, clenching his fists at his sides instead to stop himself from reaching out. He knew she would likely pull away if he tried to touch her. “I… I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t know what else to say, how to comfort her.

Y/n hugged Aegon tight in her arms crying into his chest, taking comfort from him in a way she hadn't done before in their marriage, and it became clear to Aegon just how much she loved her baby, just how much comfort she needed and how little he had given her

Aegon froze as she hugged him, her arms wrapped tight around him. It was the first time in months, maybe even years that she had hugged him, He slowly wrapped his arms around her in return, his heart twisting at the way she trembled against him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so vulnerable before.

"Is there anything I could do... that you would let me keep him here with me?"

Aegon swallowed and closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her. she trembled in his arms he realised the truth… there was one thing she could do. He took a deep breath and leaned his head down, his cheek resting against the top of her head. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, guilt and excitement battling inside him. “There is something you could do.” He mumbled against her hair, his grip on her waist tightening slightly.

When she nodded to indicate that she was listening, Aegon took another deep breath and continued with a low voice.

“I… I would allow her to keep the child here with you…” he began, before pausing to gather his thoughts. “If… if her promise to never see Jacaerys again. Or… or anyone else.”

"I promise, I promise on the lives of all my children"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she made the promise.

A part of him was still fearful, still waiting for the moment she would go behind his back and continue her affair with Jacaerys. But another part of him, a deeper part, desperately hoped that she was telling the truth. That she would allow him a second chance. That she would stay faithful to him from now on. He nodded and exhaled shakily. “I… I believe you.” He mumbled.

"Thank you Aegon," She nodded giving his forehead a soft kiss, and hugging him tight

Aegon tensed slightly as she kissed his forehead, his heart thundering in his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time she had kissed him, Even before the affair, she had never been the most affectionate partner. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed those little acts until they were gone. He held her tightly in his arms, revelling in the feeling of her in his embrace. He buried his face down into the crook of her neck, his arms tightening around her. He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of lavender and lemon that surrounded her. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her scent until now. After a moment of holding her in his arms, Aegon finally spoke. “We should eat,” he mumbled into her neck. “you and the baby need nourishment.”

she nodded and wiped away her tears "Would... would you carry me? like you used to when we first got married? When I was pregnant with Marcus?"

Aegon’s breath hitched as she asked him to carry her, his grip on her tightening slightly. The memories her request stirred up were almost painful to think about. The early days of their marriage where they had been happy and in love, before the years had dulled the feelings and led to the situation they were in now. He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.” He mumbled, crouching down and sliding his arms underneath her, lifting her up into his arms with ease He held her close, his arms wrapped around her body carefully. He was suddenly reminded of the times when he would carry her like this when she was pregnant earlier in the marriage, how his heart would ache with love and pride at knowing her were carrying his child. Now, holding her in his arms and feeling the now familiar, but unwanted, bump bump against his chest, Aegon felt none of that love or pride. Just anger, sorrow and bitterness.

Y/n smiled and cuddled up to Aegon as he carried her giving his cheek a kiss as he carried her though the castle, "I really do love you Aegon, truly,"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she spoke, her words taking him by surprise. He didn’t think he had the right to hear those words anymore. Not after how many times he had driven her to tears. He swallowed heavily and held her tighter, forcing his voice to work. “you… you do? Even… even after everything?”

she nodded

Aegon continued carrying her in his arms, still somewhat in disbelief that she could still say that she loved him. He exhaled shakily and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “And… and I love you too.”

[daemyrarule]

"If I'm Lord of Driftmark it means everyone is dead."

[darkficlord69]

Fire & Ice

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Jacaerys Velaryon

Warning: tastefully depicted smut (18+)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When fire meets ice, the very walls of Winterfell seem to tremble. But is the wolf a worthy match for the dragon?

Jacaerys Velaryon sat beneath the sprawling canopy of the godswood, a single white flower caught between his slender fingers. He plucked its petals one by one, watching them drift down to the withered grass like fallen snow. A sigh escaped his lips, soft as the summer breeze, and his fingers, adorned with silver rings fashioned in the shape of dragons' scaly tails, stilled when a bee landed upon his pink nipple. He dared not move, resembling a statue of marble, all sharp curves and delicate lines, carved by a true master’s hand. He held his breath until the bee took flight, then allowed a small smile to break across his face as he prepared to rise.

But then, a shadow fell over him, long and imposing, blotting out the sun. Jacaerys looked up, squinting against the sudden darkness.

"Good day, my prince," came a husky voice, roughened by the chill of the North.

"You too, Cregan," Jacaerys replied mildly, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he feared to break the stillness of the godswood.

"The lords of the war council request your presence in the solar," Cregan Stark said. "I had hoped you would care to join us."

Jacaerys let his gaze wander over Stark’s solid frame, taking in the man’s sturdy build. Those legs, long and strong beneath plain woolen breeches; that broad heavy chest hidden beneath layers of soft furs and leather; his hair, brown as autumn leaves, and his hard eyes, grey as winter’s ice—eyes that could thaw even the heart of a dragonlord.

He was lost in girlish thoughts, caught up in the rugged beauty of the Stark, when a soft throaty cough brought him back to himself. Cregan extended a gloved hand.

"Of course, my lord," Jacaerys said, taking the offered hand and letting Cregan pull him to his feet. "Anything you need."

***

The great hall of Winterfell rang with voices of discontent. Lord Umber’s booming shout rose above the rest, his face as red as his hair. “Straining our armies will only increase the risk of wildling attacks!” The room responded with a chorus of grunts and murmurs of approval. “Southron skirmishes are no concern of ours, I say!”

Lord Manderly, heavyset and lounging in his chair, responded in a bored drawl. “The South is as much a part of the Seven Kingdoms as the North. Sooner or later, one king or queen will force us to choose a side.”

“The Iron Throne will not look kindly upon our allegiance to Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Lord Hornwood intoned. Cregan Stark, seated at the head of the long oak table, had listened to enough prattle to make his head throb in annoyance. With a resounding thud, he slammed his large hands on the oak table, sending goblets rattling and silencing his bannermen. A sombre heaviness fell over the room, thick as the northern snows. The Warden of the North took a breath, his grey eyes hard and unyielding.

“We pledged our support to King Viserys’s heir long ago,” he said, his voice stern. “Never has a Stark broken his word, and I do not intend to be the first. Remember where your loyalties lie, my lords.”

With those words, dark and final as the grave, Cregan rose from the table, his wolfskin cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. Jacaerys Velaryon followed, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Once they were alone in the dim corridor of the Great Keep, Jacaerys’s mask of composure slipped, revealing the warmth beneath. “Cregan,” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, “thank you.” The support of the North meant that his mother would be one step closer to claiming her birthright.

Cregan gave a curt nod, intent on heading to his chambers. But before he could take another step, he felt a firm yet gentle push, his back pressing against the cold stone of a column.

“Now let me show you how a dragon expresses his gratitude,” the prince murmured, a teasing grin curling his full, pouty lips. The words hung in the cold, still air, filled with a heat that made Cregan's blood pulse faster. Jacaerys moved with a lithe grace, every step a promise, every movement a dance of seduction.

Slowly, Jacaerys knelt before the Stark lord, his hands gliding up Cregan’s strong thighs. His touch was featherlight, just a whisper of fingers trailing over thick wool and leather, but it was enough to make Cregan’s breath catch in his throat. The prince’s eyes were dark, glimmering with mischief and desire, his expression one of pure intent as he let his fingers dance along the inside of Cregan's legs, feeling the muscles tense under his touch.

Cregan’s heart pounded in his chest, a heavy, insistent rhythm that matched the stirring in his loins. His hands flexed at his sides, fingers curling into fists as he fought the urge to pull Jacaerys up, to crush their mouths together in a desperate kiss. But he held back, held still, mesmerized by the sight of the prince at his knees, those nimble hands tracing patterns on his skin.

Jacaerys’s fingers found the edge of Cregan’s tunic, slipping beneath it, brushing against warm hair-covered flesh. The touch sent a shiver up Cregan’s spine, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Jacaerys looked up at him, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted slightly, his breath warm against Cregan’s thigh.

The prince leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Cregan’s leg, just above the knee. Cregan’s muscles tensed beneath the tender touch, his fingers twitching with the need to reach out, to bury them in the dark waves of Jacaerys’s hair. He watched, entranced, as Jacaerys continued his slow, torturous journey, his lips brushing lightly up the inside of Cregan’s thigh, each kiss a spark, each touch a flame.

The wolf stirred within Cregan, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he felt the heat of Jacaerys’s mouth moving higher. His desire, coiled tight like a spring, grew with every brush of those lips, every teasing touch. He felt himself harden, the ache of want becoming almost unbearable.

Jacaerys’s smirk widened as he felt the evidence of Cregan’s arousal beneath his hands. He looked up again, his eyes meeting Cregan’s, holding his gaze as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin just below Cregan’s hip. Cregan’s breath came out in a harsh exhale, his control slipping, his need overtaking him.

With a growl, Cregan reached down, his hands tangling in Jacaerys’s hair, pulling the prince up with a rough urgency. Their lips crashed together, the kiss fierce and desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a frantic dance. It was a kiss that spoke of hunger, of a desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long, finally unleashed.

Jacaerys responded with equal fervor, his hands gripping Cregan’s shoulders, pulling him closer, their bodies pressing together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. The prince’s lips were soft but insistent, demanding and giving all at once. Cregan could taste the heat of him, could feel the fire that burned beneath his skin, and he met it with his own cold fury, his own wild, untamed desire.

Their mouths moved together, each kiss deeper, more intense than the last, as if they were trying to consume each other, to fuse together through sheer will. Cregan’s hands moved down, grasping Jacaerys’s waist, pulling him closer still, until there was no space between them, until they were one, bound together by the force of their need.

His lips left Cregan’s mouth, trailing down his jaw, his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of his throat. Cregan tipped his head back, a groan rumbling in his chest as Jacaerys found a sensitive spot, sucking gently, teeth grazing over skin.

The prince’s hands moved lower, finding hard planes of muscle, scars that marked his furry skin. He traced them with his fingertips, memorizing the shape of them, the feel of them, each one a testament to the man before him, to the strength and the honor that he embodied.

Cregan’s hands moved to Jacaerys’s waist, fingers digging into the prince’s hips as he pulled him impossibly closer, grinding against him, feeling the heat of his arousal through the layers of fabric. Jacaerys gasped, his head falling back, his eyes fluttering closed as pleasure coursed through him, his body arching into Cregan’s touch.

They moved together, lips meeting again in a fierce kiss, hands exploring, claiming, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The wolf and the dragon, fire and ice, together in the dark, bound by a passion that neither could deny. And in that moment, they were lost to the world, to the weight of their titles and the burdens of their duties, lost to everything but each other.Jacaerys gasped, his fingers tangling in Cregan’s thick, dark hair as he pressed ever closer, his body melting against the northerner’s like ice before a flame. Cregan’s lips moved to Jacaerys’s neck, finding the pulse there and biting down just hard enough to make the prince hiss in pleasure.

“More,” Jacaerys demanded, his voice breathless, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “Show me how fierce the wolf can be.”

Cregan needed no further invitation. He lifted Jacaerys effortlessly, the prince’s legs wrapping around his waist as it was Cregan’s turn to press him against the wall. The cold stone was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, but neither of them noticed. Their world had narrowed to this moment, to the taste of each other’s mouths and the feel of their skin.

They were fire and ice, light and shadow, opposites drawn together by a force neither of them could fully understand but neither wanted to fight. Here, in the shadows of the keep, they were free of the burdens of their titles and the weight of their responsibilities. Here, they were just two dandy men, lost in the madness of each other.

Cregan’s hands found the laces of Jacaerys’s lacy smallclothes and pulled, the fabric sliding down the prince’s hips and pooling at his feet. Jacaerys shivered at the sensation, his hands gripping Cregan’s shoulders as the northern lord knelt before him.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Cregan looked up, his eyes meeting Jacaerys’s, asking a question without words. Jacaerys nodded, a silent answer, a trust given and accepted.

“Stay still now, woman,” Stark commanded and Jace whimpered at the order.

Then, Cregan’s lips were on him, hot and wet and hungry, and Jacaerys gasped, his head falling back against the stone. The world narrowed to that single point of contact, to the heat of Cregan’s mouth and the rough scrape of his beard against sensitive skin.

Jacaerys’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hands fisting in Cregan’s hair as pleasure coursed through him, building and building until he thought he might shatter from it. And then, with a cry that echoed off the walls of Winterfell, he did, his body tensing, his back arching, and then collapsing against the stone, boneless and sated.

Cregan rose, his lips curved in a small, satisfied smile as he pulled Jace into his arms, holding him close as the prince caught his breath. They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the only sound their breathing, the only warmth the heat of their bodies.

Finally, Jacaerys pulled back, his eyes bright, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “Well, Lord Stark,” he murmured, “I must say, your loyalty has its rewards.”

Cregan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a thrill through Jacaerys’s already sated body. “And you, Prince Jacaerys, are a demanding wench.”

Jacaerys leaned in, his lips brushing against Cregan’s ear as he whispered, “Only because I know you can handle me, oh Wolf of Winterfell.”

Cregan’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with promise. “Then you’ll have to show me again, you feisty dragonling,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Jacaerys laughed, a bright, clear sound that filled the corridor. “Oh, I intend to, Cregan Stark. Many times over.”

And with that, they slipped away into the shadows, leaving only the faint echo of their laughter and the lingering warmth of their passion behind them.

End.

Hi! Hope you liked it 🥰 Any form of feedback is greatly appreciated! 🫶

[jessaliaart]

finished the lore for thunder junction in magic the gathering and am in tears!

also if you want to see my art as I finish it, or share your own art/fics/writting/craft/hobbies, or just want a place to hang then check out my discord here!

[bbygirl-aemond]

okay now that i've slept on this episode (and watched the behind the scenes) i want to talk more about this idea of rhaenyra as a cult leader who has completely drunk her own kool-aid. it's an a+ development for her character and i truly hope the writers continue to lean into it further.

hotd has built up this idea of dragons being a conduit for the divine from the very beginning of season one, when viserys and rhaenyra talk about how the targaryen's perceived proximity to the gods comes via their control of dragons. earlier in season two we also heard the smallfolk describe the dragons as invulnerable gods during the parading of meleys's head. this is a deliberate narrative that the targaryens have cultivated (as jace pointed out) to provide themselves with a divine mandate to justify their rule.

this idea of the dragons as a divine mandate is beginning to intersect with the conqueror's dream for rhaenyra in a fascinating way. rhaenyra has always placed more importance on the conqueror's dream than, say, daemon or jace, but this episode goes much further, and is full of rhaenyra talking about being given signs and instructions from the gods. i think addam claiming seasmoke was a transformation for her- she was smiling and had this look of near elation once he claimed her as queen.

i think she genuinely believes that the gods broke the rules of dragon claiming in order to give her a loyal dragon rider right when she needed one. we then see this same elated smile again when she successfully brings vermithor to heel.

each of these little moments is something she takes as confirmation that she's being aided by the gods. this is why she is so convinced that the dragon seeds who claim vermithor and silverwing will be loyal to her- she has convinced herself that all of this is the gods signaling to her and that they will bring her loyal dragon riders the way they brought her addam. the dragon tamers point out what rhaenyra is not willing to acknowledge; these are not true signs from the gods, but things that rhaenyra herself is reading into and arranging for herself. she is seeing what she wants to see. and this will be proven true when hugh and ulf betray rhaenyra, likely due to rhaenyra's own actions in locking the dragonseeds in to die. they were not loyal believers sent from the gods to serve her; they were just men, and she's given them the fantasy equivalent of nuclear missiles.

a large part of this belief in divine validation is definitely due to rhaenyra's own deep seated insecurity due to viserys neglecting her in her childhood and her small council not taking her seriously enough, but i also think this is a coping mechanism on rhaenyra's part. she has no choice but to lean into this war as fully as she can now, to describe herself as helpless in the wake of what the gods have set before her, because she needs her losses to mean something. she needs visenya's death and luke's death to mean something. she needs the loss of her relationship with alicent to mean something.

but in doing this, she is already beginning to push others away from her. she has lost the support of the dragon tamers, and she has also pushed away jace; when he confronted her about a valid concern about how this would make his own ascension even more fraught, she just parroted more of that divine mandate nonsense back to him, which he is clearly not buying. i'll be curious to see how much deeper she falls into this cultish spiral and how much more it costs her.

[puppycheesecake]

Sim Lookbook - Jace

He's taking over the family ranch for his (semi)retired Grandma. Doesn't necessarily love that the town is run by vampires, but he gets along with them just fine. (He's even friends with a couple.)

General: Hair 1 / Hair 2 / Hair 3 / Hair 4 (Base Game) / Brows Everyday: Top + Undershirt / Pants (Horse Ranch) / Shoes (Jungle Adventure) / Hat Formal: Top + Pants / Shoes, Necklace (Horse Ranch) Athletic: Top / Shorts / Socks / Shoes Sleep: Robe / Pants / Socks Party: Top / Pants (Benji Skinny Jeans) + Belt / Shoes (Horse Ranch) Swimwear: Shorts Hot Weather: Top + Graphic Overlay / Pants (Horse Ranch) / Shoes (Jungle Adventure) / Hat / Necklace Cold Weather: Outfit (Horse Ranch) / Shoes (Jungle Adventure) / Hat

Thank you! @simandy @zurkdesign @gegesimmer @twisted-cat @sforzcc @blahberry-pancake @lazyeyelids @greenllamas @gorillax3-cc @serenity-cc @shakeproductions @marsmerizing-sims @plumbobsnfries @joliebean @liliili-sims4 @mochizencc @pixelette-cc @ceeproductions