#MY POOR BABIESSS

[its-autumn]

holy shit i just binged the "firefight" fic and i am a broken woman 😭

read it here ⬇️

brace yourself if you read it :)

[janetbrown711]

If I Fail You

Chapter 2: No More Birthdays

Now fugitives from the celestial realm, MK and his friends and family set out to find the five color stones and save the universe.

Except that he's immediately swept away by his mentor, leaving said friends and family behind, leaving them to wonder and worry about what's wrong with him. Oh, and also climb a volcano with a four-month-old. But that should be easy enough, right? Right...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Ao3 Link

Pigsy didn’t sleep a single moment the entire ride out of the city to the middle of nowhere, watching MK and Li Na with a tight, anxious feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away. Even when Tang, Li Na and even MK managed to fall asleep, Pigsy stayed up silently, watching and waiting. Of course, they were never asleep for too long, especially MK, but Pigsy felt it extremely necessary for him to be alert and on guard at all times.

It was something he seemed to share with the Monkey King too, as he also didn't close his eyes for even a second in the vehicle. Of course, it was likely that immortals like him didn't need sleep, but Pigsy could recognize the specific distant look in his eyes any day.

They didn't talk, though. Almost no one ever did, except when Li Na would wake up and everyone would ask if everything was okay and if they needed to stop and yadda yadda. Pigsy appreciated their worry, but Li Na was his responsibility and he could manage just fine. Everyone else needed to just sit back and focus on themselves.

It… wasn't easy though, and sometimes he was tempted to ask someone else to get her to stop crying for five goddamn seconds. But at the same time, he knew she was probably just scared since she hadn't ever really been in a car or car seat before, and to be stuck for hours and hours had to be uncomfortable. Sometimes he thought about just putting her into the carrier again to keep her close and happy, but knew if the car was attacked in any kind of way, she needed to be in the seat. Unfortunately, four-month-olds can't really understand that, so her uncomfortable cries could last for hours, and all Pigsy could do was try and stroke her cheek and remind her of her blanket and wish for the best, shoving his frustration and temperament as far down his throat as possible.

Happy. Safe. Cared for. That's all he wanted for his family, but it just kept getting harder and harder and harder– was it too much to ask for a moment's peace? A day where he wasn't relaxing under false pretenses, but knew for an undeniable fact that everyone was okay and fine? Or would that somehow destroy the world because it was against the rules or whatever? Bah, to hell with the whole thing, honestly. What's the point of it all if things can't ju–

“Pigsy..?” Tang groaned to life from the other side of the car seat. “Hon, you look like you haven't slept a bit.”

“M'fine, Tang. Just have to keep an eye out,” Pigsy was quick to wave off, checking on Li Na as she stretched sleepily under her blanket.

Tang chuckled, reaching a tired hand to Li Na's face and stroking her cheek. “Hi, bao bao… you certainly woke up a lot,” he smiled as she started to whimper. “Got scared, didn't you? Don't worry, we're here, everything is just fine, you're okay with us, Li Na.”

Pigsy hummed before his eyes landed on MK as he too stirred with the sunrise, his head rolling away from Mei’s shoulder.

“Ugh… sunrise already?” his son grumbled, trying to bury his face in Mei’s arm, but Mei shook him off.

“Damn, Monkey Man. Maybe you woke up but not all of us have,” Mei scolded, keeping her eyes shut.

“Rise and shine, everyone! We– uh– have some planning we need to discuss,” Sandy chuckled nervously from the driver's seat.

“Ughhhhhh– curse this stupid universe,” MK groaned, once again trying to bury his head in Mei's arm, but the dragon girl pushed him completely away and onto the window.

“Sorry bud, but he's right, we got some explaining to do,” Wukong sighed.

“Right, yeah. Just one apocalypse after the next,” MK huffed, leaning against the window solemnly, making Pigsy wince.

“But you said there was a way to fix this, right, little man?” Sandy tried his best to lighten the mood.

“Right, yeah, something about… stones? Or something like that?” Mei rubbed her eyes, finally giving up on going back to sleep.

“Five color stones,” the monkey king corrected.

Tang perked up at that. “The stones that the goddess Nuwa used to mend the heavens? I didn’t think they were real!” He looked at Pigsy with such a stupid look of amazement it made the pig chuckle.

“Mhm, they are! They’re just hidden, and guarded, and we have no idea where to find them, aha,” MK laughed nervously.

“What? Not even a little?” Pigsy asked, mostly looking at Wukong, who still stared out his window.

“No–! I mean– it’s fine because we’re just gonna ask someone who does! Nuwa!” MK quickly flipped to a sketch he’d drawn of her earlier.

“Ooo, yeah! She’s totally gotta have a temple we could go to, right?” Mei was instantly on board, though Pigsy still had his skepticism.

“Oh– yeah, at the Burning Mountain.” Wukong finally looked away to give them a smile.

“Wait– what?! Nononono– we’re not going to the burning mountain, not with Li Na, we have to think of anywhere else,” Tang instantly protested.

Wukong gave a glance to the back and shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice here, man. We’re kind of on a time crunch.”

“I-I know that! I just– I don’t need her facing the Fiery Beasts from ‘Past Calamities’ that guard the temple. She’s way too young for ‘trials by fire’– especially literal ones,” Tang looked at Pigsy anxiously.

“Yeah, I gotta say I agree here.” Pigsy glanced down at his daughter, who was reaching her stubby little arms for him. He met her reach with his hand, allowing her to grasp a finger before he looked back to Wukong. “Are you one thousand percent sure there’s no alternative here?”

“Unfortunately yes, I’m sure,” Wukong glanced down at the carrier too, before going back to the window.

“Right, of course,” Pigsy sighed, not sure why/how that managed to make him feel worse since it was exactly what he expected.

“Don’t worry, dad. I can keep her plenty safe,” MK assured with a tired smile.

“No, kid, it’s okay, me and Tang got this, it’ll be okay,” Pigsy gave a similar smile back.

MK nodded slowly before turning back around, meanwhile Tang gave him a long, anxious stare.

Pigsy chewed his cheek, looking down at Li Na instead of his husband. “She’ll be okay,” he whispered. “With your shield and Sandy’s strength, she’ll be okay.”

“Babies aren’t even supposed to be outside in temperatures over 32,” Tang countered.

“Human babies. Demon babies do better in the heat,” Pigsy tried waving off his own anxiety.

Tang gave an unamused look. “You do know she is still half human, right?”

Pigsy’s eye twitched. “Of course I know that, Tang, but do you see a goddamn alternative laying around here? No! So just– stop. I'll find a way to make it work, it’ll be fine,” he whisper-yelled, startling his husband.

“Pigsy–”

“Just stop, Tang. We’ll figure this out. We always have to,” Pigsy closed his eyes, tiredly letting Li Na stick his finger in her mouth.

Tang didn't say anything, which Pigsy let be. However, after a moment the chef was startled when he felt Tang pulling him closer and trying to rest his head on his shoulder.

Pigsy sighed and kissed his head. “We’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay,” Tang repeated, nuzzling as close as he could.

Pigsy kept his head atop Tang's for the rest of the ride.

The following hours were filled with chatter from MK and Mei, and a bit of Tang, as they talked and asked for details about the Burning Mountain and how it was different from the Flaming Mountains and such. Pigsy mostly tuned it out, keeping an eye out for any danger, and trying his best to fulfill Li Na's needs when they arose (though everyone agreed even if the world was ending, the car was stopping for diaper changes). She just about screeched in protest every time she was put back into the car seat, and whenever there was a bump in the road, and also whenever Pigsy or Tang’s hand stopped touching her, or whenever she wasn’t picked up for feeding. While incredibly frustrating, it was also probably unequivocally the worst day of the infant's life and she had zero communication skills or coping mechanisms, so she certainly had everyone’s sympathy. Besides, they still had her blanket and after ten minutes, she'd usually tire herself out. Granted, those ten minutes could feel like an eternity to the rest of the passengers, but it wasn't like there was anything they could do.

After about three hours, they arrived at the flaming mountain and Li Na was back in the carrier with Pigsy, to everyone’s relief.

However, the relief was short lived, as the Flaming Mountain certainly lived up to its name, while also having a shit ton of winding and perilous staircases to boot.

“I think my ankles hurt just looking at this thing,” Tang joked, elbowing Pigsy to try and get him to laugh too, but the pit in Pigsy’s stomach was far too deep for that.

“We’re seriously going to have to climb all that? Noooooooooooooooo,” MK groaned, slumping his head down.

“Bah, ‘Ol Alpine’ Sandy is good to go!” Sandy grinned, pulling out some of his rock climbing gear from his “emergency adventure” backpack. “We’ll be at the top in no time!”

“You know, I think there’s someone you’re forgettin’ here,” Pigsy sniped, making Sandy blush with embarrassment.

“Actually– that gives me an idea,” Tang snapped his fingers, summoning (and promptly spinning around) his khakkhara.

Pigsy sighed a massive breath of relief, glad his daughter wouldn’t actually have to face all that fire and lava. However, the feeling was incredibly short lived when he saw Wukong grab the staff with a guilty expression on his face.

“Yeahhhhhh, um, that’s gonna be a no-go, jangles,” he grimaced. “We can’t have that kind of big mystic energy or else–” “–Or else it’ll count as cheating! And we can’t fail the Trial By Fire!” MK interrupted, looking at the mountain with intensity.

“Wha– Kid, I’m pretty sure the ‘Trial By Fire’ is just a metaphor really, I’m sure the mountain ain’t testing you, right guys?” Pigsy glanced around the group, each having varied levels of one-sound responses.

“Yeah, gotta agree, bud. There’s no trial, we just can’t use magic because Li Jing will track us,” Wukong explained fully, glancing at Pigsy briefly.

Great.

“No matter, this mountain is going down,” MK shook his fist at it with determination.

Before Pigsy could even chuckle, Wukong wrapped his tail around his son and picked him up. “Or we’re going up! Catch ya at the top!” The monkey cheered, summoning his cloud and flying off.

“Wait–! MK–!” Pigsy called, but they were already nothing more than a blip on the horizon.

“Man, c'mon! Why doesn't his stupid cloud count as magic?” Mei kicked a rock and crossed her arms.

“Well, technically it's more of a ‘technique’ than a spell– plus the cloud is more like a kind of companion? I don't know– everything gets so mixed up with him,” Tang shook his head.

“UGH, fine, I guess we’re taking the hard way without MK, whatever,” Mei huffed and started going to the mountain.

Pigsy was going to follow, but his feet were suddenly glued to the ground as his eyes fell down to his daughter, who was looking up at him with big, innocent, helpless eyes.

“Pigsy? Everything alright?” Tang noticed his stance.

“No, I-I… I can’t take her, I can't climb that good, but we need to go after MK– Sandy,” Pigsy immediately turned to his friend, who looked down in confusion. “Sandy, you need to take her.”

“Oh-! Are you sure? She seems pretty cozy,” Sandy asked, smile soft and encouraging (or was at least supposed to be).

“You got more experience with this stuff, you can keep her safe,” Pigsy instantly nodded.

Sandy’s smile melted before he nodded and quickly got out a blanket from his backpack to use as a wrap while Pigsy removed his daughter from the carrier. This confused the infant, who instantly started squirming and whining, trying to grab Pigsy’s shirt with her tiny fists.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re just going with your yifu Sandy, it’s okay,” Pigsy tried assuring, but she still kept reaching and wriggling until Sandy was ready for her and the trade off was made– to which she started crying.

“Aw, hey now, it’s okay Little Piggy, good ol’ Sandy's got you,” the river demon assured, carefully wrapping her nice and snug to his chest, where she still protested, although less. Mo seemed to notice her upset mood and tried tapping her with a paw, but it didn’t help much either as she still kicked and cried.

The scene made Pigsy's chest tighten, but he shoved those feelings deep down in favor of putting his carrier in the diaper bag so they could get moving.

“Pigsy, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Tang whispered, grabbing Pigsy’s arm.

“Yes. We have to go after MK, and Sandy’s plenty capable,” Pigsy argued, glancing as the demon in question started stroking Li Na’s forehead as the cries turned to whimpers as she looked up at him.

Tang looked too. “Alright… if you’re sure, I am too.”

Pigsy’s chest tightened further, but he took his husband’s hand and started up the steps anyways, Sandy following and Mei quickly taking the lead.

After a quarter of the way into the first staircase, Sandy managed to finally soothe Li Na enough to stop crying, which was a huge relief. However, all two seconds of silence was apparently too much for Mei, as she felt the need to start complaining.

“Man… Stupid Wukong powers– ‘non-mystical clouds’– that’s total bullshit,” she puffed, kicking the step in front of her.

“You’re telling me,” Tang huffed, already starting to wince at each step on his left foot.

Pigsy chuckled and gave his husband a glance. However, that was a mistake if ever there was one, because the moment Tang noticed, he immediately hammed it up.

“Pigsy, darling, would you mind carrying me the rest of these steps?” His husband batted his eyelashes.

“In your dreams,” Pigsy rolled his eyes, trying to keep his eyes forward.

“Awww, c'mon, don't you looooove me?” Tang continued, wrapping his arm around Pigsy's.

“Keep this up and we'll see,” The chef gave Tang's arm a pat, making the scholar quickly swipe it away.

“Well, I never– we have a baby together and this is how you treat me? Oh my breaking heart,” Tang swooned dramatically.

“Oh, you mean the baby I had to carry for eight and a half months?” Pigsy raised an eyebrow. “What, you think that wasn't good enough and now I gotta carry you too?”

“Wha–? I don't mean it like that, I just– you know– with the–” Tang sputtered, meanwhile Mei cackled with laughter ahead.

Tang huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Having fun now, are you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Mei grinned, spinning around and climbing the stairs backwards. “Your gross couple banter turned roasting is much more entertaining than thinking about how stupid it is Wukong just zipped MK up the mountain.”

“Hey now, hiking can be a very meditative form of exercise,” Sandy spoke up from the back.

All three other hikers gave him a look.

“...Okay, it might not be for everyone– but still! Introspection and being in nature is a good thing that can help us reconnect with ourselves,” Sandy argued.

“Rrrright,” Mei turned back around. “Well if that's true then it's a damn shame MK's missing out on all this introspection then.”

“Now that I agree with,” Sandy said, his tone making Pigsy's ears perk a little.

“What do you mean?” Pigsy glanced back.

Sandy looked away, seeming a tad embarrassed. “Well, I mean– I just think the kid needs a break, you know? Like we talked about,” he scratched his neck, and Mo meowed in agreement from his shoulder.

“Oh, right, yeah– he wasn't actually sleeping when we were all hanging, was he?” Mei asked.

“No, probably not,” Pigsy sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

“Yeesh…” Mei winced. “He's really been working himself to the bone lately, hasn't he?”

“Oh yeah.” Pigsy bit his cheek.

“But it'll be alright, we'll get the universe in tip-top shape in no time,” Sandy smiled empathetically. “Then he can get all the rest he needs.”

“Unless the universe throws another disaster our way,” Tang muttered.

“Hey now, let's try and think positively here. Once we get the stones and fix the universe, everything will be just fine,” Sandy encouraged, making Pigsy grunt out of habitual disgust. The chef could feel his friends gaze on the back of his neck, but the pig ignored it in favor of continuing up the never-ending steps.

“Well… uh… anyways… anyone know any hiking games we can play, or something to pass the time? This is… a lot of stairs,” Mei said, reality probably starting to hit her.

“Oh, I know plenty! We can do I Spy, 100 Bottles of Beer, 20 questions, bird watching, the alphabet game, or some kind of memory game!” Sandy cheered, making Pigsy ponder if throwing himself into lava would be less painful.

However, the pig kept his mouth shut since it was at the very least a distraction from worrying about MK. Plus, Li Na seemed to be having fun with it too, laughing along with every song or silly voice Sandy did. Despite his begrudgingly acceptance though, he felt overwhelmed with relief when they finally reached the first tread in the staircase and they could all rest a moment.

“Oh… my god… I think my legs… are gonna fall off,” Mei wheeled before she collapsed to the ground. “How many more staircases do we got?”

“Trust me, Mei, you don't wanna know,” Tang warned, sitting down with a wince.

Pigsy noticed that and immediately took action to start massaging Tang's ankles, which got him a pained smile in return.

“Haha… yeah… we got a long day ahead of us, but pacing ourselves is everything! So we're gonna take a nice, long break to drink some water, eat some granola, and take it easy,” Sandy instructed, removing his massive backpack while Li Na started to wiggle and whine. “Ope-! Right after we get this little one settled too.”

Pigsy naturally perked up, watching carefully as Sandy undid his wrap and freed the now crying infant. Pigsy now recognized it was her hungry cry, and so instantly got out her bottle and formula– before realizing he had no water or way to heat it up safely. Granted, it didn't have to be warm, but Li Na was in a phase right now where she refused it cold or even room temperature. Then again, this place was boiling hot, so… maybe it would work..?

“Oh dip, snack time?” Mei asked the frozen pig.

“Y-yeah, I just– um…” Pigsy stared down at his hands.

“Oh-! Here, I can make it for you if we trade,” Sandy offered, and they swapped almost instantly.

“Hey, hey, it's okay Li Na, it's okay– I know it's hot and you're hungry– but we have milk, you'll be okay,” Pigsy tried shushing her, which seemed to actually work, her little body relaxing ever-so-slightly against Pigsy's chest.

Tang hummed with a tired smile behind him, resting his head on his husband's shoulder before stroking Li Na's cheek.

“Oughhhh, you guys are so stupid cute– even when she's crying! How is this even legal?” Mei doted on her.

Sandy chuckled. “Maybe one day you'll have one of your own and maybe then it'll be fair,” he said, measuring the powder with the scoop while Mo made his way over to the girl.

“But right now it's not! And MK's not even here–” Mei suddenly stopped herself and started petting Mo. “It’s not fair.”

Pigsy winced at the mention of MK, which made Tang sit up. “You feeling okay, hon?”

“M'fine, just–” Pigsy sighed. “I'm just tired.”

Sandy gave his friend a look of pity before offering the bottle. “This will help her stop at least.”

Pigsy took it, despite accurately predicting Li Na wouldn't like it, kicking it away and wailing loudly in protest.

“What? Is she not hungry?” Tang asked, making Pigsy's eye twitch.

“Of course she's hungry, Tang, it just ain’t warm enough for her,” he sighed heavily.

Tang gave an exasperated sigh as well. “As if being on a flaming mountain isn’t good enough for her.”

“Oh, well– I, uh… I might be able to warm it up, if you want,” Mei offered, still stroking Mo’s chin as he purred.

Pigsy bit his cheek, uncertain but ultimately deciding it was worth a shot before handing the bottle over. The girl took the bottle in one hand, trying to start a fire in the other. However, it didn’t seem to be working for once, causing Mei’s frustration to rise with each failed snap.

“C’mon stupid flame, just fucking light already,” she cursed, making Pigsy and Tang exchange a glance.

Sandy sensed the tension “Mei, you don’t have to do this, I’m sure we can think of something else–”

“No! I can do this! I just gotta–” Mei snapped her fingers once again, and this time a massive green flame shot up. “Shit–!” She cursed, instantly dropping the bottle to the ground (thankfully causing the flame to die out too). “S-sorry– sorry, I can do it– I have it all under control, it’s fine, I just–”

“Mei, it’s okay, we can figure something else out,” Sandy insisted, but Mei just picked up the bottle and started walking up the stairs again to a nearby stream of lava.

“Mei–! Wait! Be careful!” Tang instantly stood and called out to her, but the girl didn’t listen, continuing to walk until she was barely away from the melted rock, where she simply crouched down and held the bottle above.

Pigsy stayed sitting on the ground, semi-trapped by the still-screaming infant in his arms, but he watched with an immense hollow feeling in his chest. Mei was in trouble, MK was in trouble, Li Na was in trouble– but again there wasn’t a single thing he could do– why did he call himself a dad again?

Mei came back in not too long– though she smelt a lot more like smoke and had soot stains all over her white jeans, but she still handed over the bottle with a nearly uncanny grin. “Here you go, Piggy.”

Pigsy looked at her. “Mei, what is this? What are you doing?”

Mei scoffed. “What are any of us doing? Climbing a stupid mountain to get to MK,” she retorted, crossing her arms and looking up, while Pigsy just shook his head and tried cleaning off the bottle before finally giving it to Li Na.

However, the head shake just set her off again. “Ugh, we're going too slow– I have to get to MK before something happens. I'll catch you at the top,” Mei waved them off and bounded up the stairs once more.

“Mei, hold on–” Sandy quickly grabbed his bag once more and went to go after her, before seeming to remember there were other people there.

He looked at them, then back up at the stairs, before backing down. “She just needs some space for now, I'm sure,” he said, though Pigsy wasn't sure his friend actually believed that.

“This is… really bad, isn't it?” Tang laughed nervously, looking at both the chef and Sandy.

“We can fix this, I know we can. We just… need to get up this mountain,” Sandy's cheerful disposition faltered ever-so-slightly.

“And then what?” Pigsy scoffed. “For all we know, Mei's right and while we're stuck here some destiny bullshit is happening. Hell, by the time we get there, I bet MK is just going to be even worse,” he spat, looking away bitterly.

“Pigsy–” Tang tried placing a hand on his shoulder, but the chef shook it away– which he instantly regretted when it made Li Na whine.

“Sorry, sorry– I just–...” Pigsy glanced at Tang before closing his eyes. “I know there's nothing we can't get through together… but when his ‘destiny’ or mentor keeps isolatin’ him, I just… I just don't know what to do,” Pigsy looked at Li Na tiredly.

Tang knelt and pressed a kiss on Pigsy's forehead. “I know how you feel, hon– it's terrifying and I just– I hate it so much.”

Pigsy sighed, nuzzling his head against Tang's chest before his husband wrapped him into a soft hug.

“Self isolation is a nasty habit for sure,” Sandy looked at and quickly scooped Mo back up again. “It’s not going to be easy to combat it… but with work I know we can get through to him.”

“Always the optimist,” Pigsy snorted weakly.

Sandy chuckled a little. “Someone has to be.”

Pigsy couldn’t argue with that, swapping the now empty bottle with a towel to burp Li Na, before glancing back up the steps, where he could see Mei stomping around.

“You should go to her, Sandy,” he spoke up, but his friend shook his head.

“We need to plan what to do about MK together– she's his family too,” Sandy said.

“She's just as much a kid as MK, she doesn't need all that pressure either,” Pigsy argued.

“She's his best friend, Pigsy. She's going to worry and want to do something no matter what,” Sandy gave the pig a look so tender it actually made the chef want to cry.

“W-well, um… either way, I don't like the kid bein’ by herself and I'm just holding you back, so, you know...” Pigsy sniffled, trying not to dwell.

“Oh, c'mon, don't be like that honey,” Tang rubbed his arm. “We’re all a team here, whether they know it or not.”

Pigsy nodded, ultimately agreeing with the sentiment. “Sorry, yeah, I just–”

“I know, hon. You’re okay,” Tang kissed his cheek.

The chef smiled.

Once Li Na was all burped and settled, she was wrapped back into Sandy's carrier, which she again protested. Thankfully though, all that eating must've tired her out as she fell asleep by the time they saw Mei halfway across a rope suspension bridge.

“Mei! Wait right there!” Sandy instantly called out, an unusual panic in his voice that made the other two adults pause before rushing with him.

Mei turned around, seeming annoyed more than anything. “Took you slow pokes long enough. C’mon, we gotta get going–”

“Mei, wait, that bridge isn't safe and you don’t have the right equipment or anything! You need to take it slow–”

“Sorry, but I'm actually trying to reach MK before my retirement,” Mei rolled her eyes and continued onward, not noticing how the bridge slanted a notable amount to the right, nor how some parts of the rope were frayed or how it was over a massive chasm or–

“Mei, are you trying to get yourself killed too?!” Pigsy shouted at her, running to the bridge’s start.

“I'm trying to get back to MK before it's too late, unlike you slowpokes,” Mei mumbled that last part, continuing forward until a loud CRACK broke through the mountain and Mei let out a shriek– the plank underneath her foot snapping in half and causing her to fall halfway before she managed to just barely catch the bottom rope.

“MEI!” All three of them shouted, Pigsy summoning his rake without even thinking and racing to her aid (ignoring Tang's loud sputtering protests and confusion).

“Pigsy! Y-your rake-! What if that counts as magic?! We can't be tracked!” Mei worried.

“Jesus– I don't fucking care! I'm not losing any of my goddamn kids! Just grab on,” Pigsy instructed, not comprehending how that could even be on her mind right now. Thankfully, Mei did still have enough sense to do as she was told and Pigsy pulled her back up on the bridge– though was quickly startled when Mei suddenly latched onto him and wouldn't let go.

“Woah, hey now, it's okay, kid. I got you.” Pigsy hugged her right back, his rake disappearing once more.

“P-piggy, I'm so sorry– I don't know what I was thinking– I–” Mei started to cry.

“Hey, it's okay, I got you, Mei, I got you. We'll make it across, everything’s okay,” Pigsy assured, finally looking back at his husband and best friend, who both looked like they just had the biggest heart attacks of their lives.

Once Sandy noticed Pigsy looking at him, he shook off his shock though, sighing a breath of relief before clearing his throat. “Right– okay– you two need to stay to the left of the bridge, alright? And watch out for creaking or too much rocking– take it nice and even!” Sandy instructed, and Pigsy nodded.

“You okay to stand?” he then asked the still trembling girl, who shook her head.

“I-I'm sorry Piggy, I'm sorry,” she kept crying.

“Hey, it's okay– we can talk on the other side, okay? I got you, everything'll be alright.” Pigsy gave a squeeze for emphasis and eventually Mei nodded and slowly let go. However, the second Pigsy was up and standing again, Mei held his hand tight. The chef didn't mind, though, letting her hold on as they followed Sandy's instruction until they were back on solid ground and waiting for the others to cross.

The pair didn't speak while they waited, though Mei wrapped her arms around one of his and buried her head in his shoulder. Pigsy did his best to try and comfort her, though was constantly watching and worrying for Tang, Sandy, Mo, and Li Na.

Thankfully, everyone made it just fine– though the second Tang was across he grabbed Mei's shoulders and started shaking her.

“Long Xiaojiao, don't ever do that again!” he ordered before squeezing the daylights out of her.

“I-I'm sorry Mr. Tang, I-I don't know– I'm so scared– MK– he isn't acting right– h-he–”

Tang hugged her tighter. “I know– god, I know… but what can we do?” Tang asked, eventually letting go and looking to Sandy, meanwhile Mei reattached herself to Pigsy's arm.

“Hey now, it's not too late, MK is still with us. We have time,” Sandy assured as he unwrapped his carrier once again, passing over the anxious infant to Tang, who rocked her.

“Yeah, but– but how much?” Pigsy glanced at Mei, who squeezed his arm tighter, burying her head.

Sandy had to think for a moment, which didn't make Pigsy feel any better.

“Look… it's not going to be easy, but MK is still here, we just have to keep assuring him we're here too. Even if it seems like fate or the universe is trying to pull us apart, we have to let him know we aren't going anywhere and– and that he means so much to us a-and–” Sandy started to get choked up, which made Mo start to purr and rub his head against Sandy's. “Right– right, sorry–”

“Sandy, it's okay, you can be scared too,” Pigsy assured, receiving a tearful smile of gratitude in response.

“R-right– well–” Sandy tried clearing his throat as a few tears fell quickly down his cheeks. “Well first, we'll make it up the mountain and help MK with anything he may need. After that, we'll be back in the truck for the second stone, and rest up. We don't want to pile too much on him too soon, but getting in some praise and affection would be good, I think,” he sniffled.

“But will it be enough?” Mei asked quietly.

“...I'll have a one-on-one meditation session with him tomorrow– try to teach him mindfulness and try to pass on wisdom about fighting inner demons. It’ll help him know he’s not alone,” Sandy nodded to himself.

“MK kinda hates meditation though– part of the ol’ ADHD thing,” Mei pointed out, fidgeting with Pigsy’s shirt sleeve.

“I know, but–... but I think with time and effort I could really get through to him,” the river demon tried to sound confident, but when Mei didn’t seem any more assured, he sighed. “I know how bad– how helpless it feels to watch someone go through this… but I know that Pigsy and Tang are right– there is nothing we can't fix together.”

“What about after the meditation?” Mei asked again. “What do we do then? H-how can we– can we make sure he doesn't– you know–”

Sandy smiled softly. “We just continue loving him the best we can, Mei, that's all we can do– until we find a trained professional for him, that is.”

“Right… right, okay,” The dragon girl sniffled, glancing up at Pigsy for reassurance, to which the demon kissed her head.

“We're gonna make that kid feel so fucking loved he won't know what hit ‘im,” the chef joked a little too.

“And we'll also make sure to take care of ourselves in the meantime too,” Tang added, and Mei instantly nodded.

“R-right– I know, I'm so sorry– I didn't mean to– I just–”

“We know, kiddo, just don't scare us like that again.” Pigsy moved to wrap his arm around the girl's shoulders.

Mei’s eyes went to the ground. “I mean... I didn't– I know you've said it before, but… I didn't think you actually thought of me like I’m your kid,” she chuckled weakly.

“What can I say? We're huge saps,” Pigsy chuckled too and gave her another tight squeeze.

Mei snorted, nuzzling closer as she did.

“And– uh– for the record, I– um… I’m very fond of you too, Mei,” Sandy added, making Mei finally break the embrace to give Sandy a hug of his own.

“I love you too, ya big ol’ teddy bear,” Mei said, causing the river demon to laugh and embrace her back.

Pigsy could see his friend was on the verge of crying again, but he didn’t say anything and instead made his way closer to Tang before asking how he and Li Na were holding up.

“Oh, you know… little sore, little exhausted, but a little better, too,” Tang chuckled nervously while Li Na grasped her baba’s thumb.

“You thinkin’ you’ll be able to make it up the rest of the mountain? It’s a long way to go still,” Pigsy asked.

“Are you offering to carry me?” Tang batted his eyelashes.

Pigsy rolled his eyes and pushed him away playfully. “Not if you keep doing that.”

The scholar laughed, though it didn’t last too long. At first Pigsy just assumed he was tired, but his eyes had an intense focus on Li Na before he suddenly asked–

“Pigsy?”

The chef straightened up. “Yes?”

“Tell me everyone’s going to end okay– that MK, and Mei, a-and Li Na are going to be alright.”

Pigsy’s heart melted. “MK, Mei, and Li Na are gonna be just fine, Tangy–”

“Promise me.” Tang looked at him.

Pigsy hesitated, glancing at Sandy, then Mei, then Li Na before going back to his husband.

“I… I promise, Tang. Everyone’s gonna go home just right,” he said, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

Tang’s face relaxed into a tired and slightly goofy smile. “Thanks, hon. I-I just– thank you.”

Pigsy smiled and kissed his cheek, before turning to the others. “We ready to get going?”

“Oh-! Yeah! Don’t wanna leave him hanging for too long” Mei immediately bounced up, and once Li Na was back and wrapped up with Sandy, they started making their way up the mountain once more.

The hike ended up lasting until just about sunset, and with Pigsy having to carry Tang for a little over half the distance because of his weak ankles. It wasn’t great for the pig demon’s back by any means, but Sandy was already carrying his massive hiking emergency bag, Mo, and Li Na, so he sucked it up. It was also better than even entertaining the thought of leaving his husband behind, so while it was difficult, he endured knowing it would be worth it.

…Which was why when Wukong grabbed MK and immediately flew away again the second the group reached the top, Pigsy felt angry enough to tear the immortal limb-from-limb.

It wasn’t helped that from the brief moment Pigsy actually saw his son, there was this… this cloudiness behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was new– it had to have been new– Pigsy wouldn’t have missed it if it had been there at the restaurant or in the van–

Something bad happened to his son while he was out of reach.

“Well… uh… back down we go, I guess, huh?” Tang tried to lighten the mood, elbowing Pigsy to try and get him to join in.

Pigsy didn’t have it in him, though. Instead, he stared at Sandy, starting a silent conversation.

He’s worse, the chef’s eyes said.

I know.Sandy looked back with pity.

Why does this keep happening?

I don’t know.

Why can’t he just be okay? Why can’t he stay with us?

I don’t know that either, Pigsy. But we’re sticking to our plan as a team, no matter what. We'll figure this out.

Pigsy took a deep breath and nodded.

Right. You’re right.

Sandy smiled weakly. Of course I am. Let’s get going. Can’t leave him alone for too long.

“Right… right. Let’s get going,” Pigsy said, and after scooping Tang up once more, they started down the mountain again with equal parts worry and determination to fix what was wrong as a team.

[emmettspeakz]

this season being about what choices you make when your back is against the wall aka threatened but also what someone will do when they feel absolutely helpless??? like this season was incredible and i might be analyzing it for the next few days

[tw1nter]

P2 of what if kudou died instead of yoichi

(Ps, his mouth/bottom face being covered by shadows is a play on how AFO’s upper face was seemingly always covered by shadows)

previously:

[joelsbeard]

Okay part 2 😈 to this ask! @joelsfavoritegirl

Okay we've already read how the two of you get butterfliesss when you guys are first crushing on each other, but i feel like even throughout your relationship things always manage to stay fresh and you both keep surprising each other, so basically your relationship never really loses its spark

Therefore you both still get butterflies about one another even years after getting together

Before your relationship started and also at the beginning of it, sometimes joel would get so nervous around you hehe and his palms would always get clammy 😭 poor joel lol

You know damn well in your talking stage and also right after you get together, joel is for sure tellin his homeboys all about you 😭 (in a respectful way of course, he's not going to embarrass you or anything)

He is down BAD for you, tommy (lol fuckin tommy) and all his friends never let him forget

He always gets warm fuzzy feelings around you because you are so sweet and kind and caring and he always asks himself how he managed to get with a girl like you 🥺

When you first started dating, this man was definitely gigglin and swingin his feet whenever you would respond to his texts HAHAHAH

This man would do ANYTHING for you, and he always goes the extra mile to make you feel special, I'm talking giving you spa nights (so sweet! I guess its only fair since you pamper him too with those little facials hehe), taking you on dates, cooking for you (simple foods), and being extra sweet to you on your period 🥺 getting you all your cravings and putting up with your mood swings (good practice for when he gets you pregnant with his babiesss 😈)

He ALWAYS brings you flowers!!! Joel Miller is a fucking romantic and I will die on that hill fr. Everytime i read in a fic where he brings you flowers i'm like that is so fucking joel miller coded. Even if it's not an elaborate bouquet (those are way to expensive anyways) he'll come home with a bouquet of daisies, carnations, hydrangeas, roses ofc hehe, baby's breath, lavender, you name it. He seems like a simple guy (in a good way, also aren't a lot of guys lol) so you don't need the fancy ones (maybe he gives you those on anniversaries or special events) but just the thought is always so sweet ❤️

Sometimes he'll make the bouquets himself 🥺 he'll get 2-3 varieties from the grocery store and learns to cut and arrange and wrap them himself 🥺 and those are your favorites. You always make sure to give him head every time he does lol he deserves it 🙈

Your natural scent, the smell of your perfumes, soaps, shampoos, detergents, and lotions all bring him to his goddamn knees!!! He be gettin horny fr when you walk by him and he gets a whiff of you LMAOO.

You guys tell each other EVERYTHING and it doesn't take long once you start dating to become very close, and you're very comfortable with basically anything with each other.

I heard of this thing where if you and your partner feel very comfortable, safe, and secure around each other, you tend to feel sleepy and relaxed when you're in each other's presence, and especially bc joel works a hard ass job, i feel like he loves coming home to you and just melting and laying on you and he can feel the tension and stress just leave his body as soon as he walks in the door.

Now bc I want to minimize my pookie's suffering lol, I imagine that bc in this AU he's not a single dad, you both work so for a while you have dual income, and once sarah comes you take a break but eventually do a part time job or something just to help out with expenses so joelie doesn't have to work so hard 🥺

This is such a cute headcanon, but basically whenever he's having an especially hard day he'll look at his phone lockscreen of you two to remind him what's waiting for him at home ❤️ he also reads and keeps all of the notes you leave in his lunch boxes lol

Joel Miller is a DEVOTED and WHIPPED ass man for his girl, he worships the ground you walk on especially once you have his babies hehe ��� he's like thats MY GIRL, my BABY MAMA, the MOTHER OF MY CHILDREN, the LIGHT OF MY LIFE AND REASON FOR BEING!!!

Everybody wishes they had a joel miller smh, people look at you guys and they're like 🥺 "wish i had a partner as devoted as he/she is" bc you are equally as whipped for this fine ass man and you cannot WAIT to have his babies

^ biological instincts going brrrr fr when you see that man, you can feel your ovaries crying

And he wants to put his babies in you so bad!!!

Even the sound of your voice gets him fuckin horny, he'll pick you up from work or school sometimes (maybe you plan on getting your associates degree) and he'll catch you talking to a coworker or a classmate and he looks at you like 😍 he's just SO in love you with and you look like an angel to him. He's the type of guy to be looking at you when you say "isn't the view so beautiful" and he's like "yes it is" and you turn and see him looking at you like 😍 and it makes you want to cry

Just like the feeling you get when he calls you "sweet girl", he fr be getting butterflies in his stomach and bootyhole LMAO when you call him "sweet man" 🥺 especially when you hold his face in your hands or stroke his beard when you say it

Your body drives him nuts too ;) he can't get enough of you, yes he's always grabbing/smacking your ass or squeezing your tiddies lol...men

Whenever he talks about you to other people they can see him just LIGHT UP, and he almost is glowing whenever he even thinks of you, or when people bring you up to him :) Like think Peeta Mellark (my first ever fictional love lol Peeta the man that you are!!! 😩 other boys wish they were you!!!) obsessed and in love with you

Jesus christ why do i always get carried away with these lol I CAN'T HELP IT JOEL MILLER IS JUST TOO HOT

[camelliea]

Angel nodded, wringing his slightly sticky fingers together in an anxious gesture, “I– um, I've come to the conclusion that you're never gonna change yer mind, ain't you?” At Husk's shake of his head, Angel lowered his eyes and sighed, defeated. Husk hated himself a bit for making him feel like that, but he was not going to take any step back – his revenge was so close now, closer than it had ever been, and he would finally be able to set Angel completely free. He wouldn't back out. “Okay. I'll stop, um, boring you with my worries. If ya want to meddle in this war against the Vees, fine. We'll do that.”

Husk blinked, and tilted his head as his ears flickered. Maybe he had heard wrong? “We?”

____________

“What? That's the truth, honey, I ain't lying.” she patted his shoulder, “The poor sod is head over heels for ya, he gonna leave you even his status if he ever got exterminated, y'know? He's doin' everything for ya, that means something! So, Husker definitely's gonna be convinced by you, and you will help one of yer closest friends, which is me, yeah?”

Angel stilled. He even stopped breathing for almost a minute. Everything sounded suddenly muffled around him, as if Angel's head got wrapped around cotton, or he had just snorted a line and his senses were just started to be dizzy. His eyes couldn't see anything anymore if not the slightly blurred Mimzy shape, obviously at the start of a panic attack, when he turned his head and croaked, “Wait, what? Fuckin' say it again?”

_____________

“I'm sorry. I ruined your life.” Angel walked around the desk, his eyes held low, his head dangling slightly, as if it suddenly weighted too much to let it stand firmly on the neck. As he walked, his legs wobbled a bit, and Husk raised automatically his arms, so he could catch him if he fell, recognizing the start of a panic attack, or worse, a disassociation. “Maybe I should just get the fuck out of here.”

✨ANGST BABIESSS✨

[thegaysnewgroove]

i really liked you.

[vngelicc]

quick update.

hi babiesss! back from the dead lol, jk not rlly anyways i’ve been doing a lot better lol. i’ve been doing good since yesterday(?) anyways my body is and has been resting lots when im not working. i forgot to mention that i had poor health issues right after the other meaning first i went thru gal bladder pain etc and then i got sick with stomach issues (food wasn’t properly digesting leading to bloating, nausea and headaches bc im not rlly smoking n shit rn, and now i’m fighting off a high fever with chills LMAO) i haven’t really felt energy to come on here at all cause just being on my phone gave me more headaches lolol, i’ve literally been sleeping most of my days im so out of loop but anyways see y’all around and thank you so much for the good wishes and thoughtful asks regarding my recovery(?) 😔 LOVE YOU GUYS.

[mailb0xbunii]

MY BABIES MY POOR BABIESSS THERE DIRTYY AND SCARED ANF CRACKED IM GONNA KMS

[mountttmase]

Hellooooo🩷

‘I’ll pop the heating on yeah? Get it all nice and warm for the little man’ Mason shouted to you as he opened the front door to let you in. The three of you taking your first family outing to the big Sainsburys to grab some last minute Christmas supplies and you couldn’t wait to get back into the safety of your home. I LOVE THAT FAMILY

Mason was at training when you found out you were pregnant. You wanted to wait until he got home so you could take the test together and find out but you couldn’t handle not knowing and when the little test told you you were pregnant you collapsed on the floor in happy tears. OMG I'M NOT GOOD🥺🥺🥺🥺 BABIESSS

You managed to make them stop until he got home. The pair of you sinking to the floor once you’d shown him the positive test so he could hold you in his lap as you both silently cried. Counting back to realise your baby was probably conceived the night of your third anniversary and it just made everything feel even more special to you. IM MELTED, BYEEEE

You had always been told you’d feel that feeling as soon as you saw him but there was a voice in the back of your head telling you it won’t happen for you. That you were a product of your family and it would take time for you to bond with George but thankfully that wasn’t the case and you’d turned into a big mamma bear almost instantly. THE BEST MAMMA BEAR

You knew it was in the back of your mind even though it shouldn’t be but you wanted to be perfect even though you were still healing from childbirth. Taking on every task that needed doing over Christmas and making sure it was done to perfection. Not accepting help from anyone, even Mason, as you organised a special Christmas Eve get together for all your family but the stress of it and learning how to take care of a little human was making you snappy. MMM SHE IS OVER STRESSING HERSELF

‘Will you just leave me Mason, I know what I’m doing’ you told him angrily. Moving your shoulder so his hand would drop away from you. OH LOVE🥺

‘What I want is for you to go away. I want these to be perfect and you’re just ruining everything’ you shouted, tears burning in your eyes before you slammed the napkins down on the table and made an exit. THAT WAS MEAN😭😂

You felt awful. Saying hurtful things to the man you loved who was only trying to help and when you stormed off upstairs he let you have your moment to calm down. Only going to look for you when he thought you’d been gone too long and finding you fast asleep on his side of the bed. SHE IS EXHAUSTED, POOR BABY🥺

By the time you’d woken up and calmed down you found Mason in the living room, sitting in the armchair with George asleep on his chest as he slowly rubbed his back with Parker asleep at his feet. THE PERFECT TRIO HONESTLY

‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered, your tearful eyes looking into his sympathetic ones and you carried on talking before he had a chance to tell you everything was okay. ‘I just really want everything to be perfect you know? It’s George’s first Christmas and our families are gonna be together and I just wanna show everyone that I can do it’ MY LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP SO MUCH🥹🥹🥹

‘I know baby. And I know you can do it but you can’t do it on your own okay? You pushed this little human out of you four days ago and you’re still healing, not to mention your hormones are all over the place. You need to rest’ EXACTLYYYYY, SCREAM IT MASEEEE

‘I know’ he breathed, pressing a small kiss to your nose. ‘And I know why too but you’ve got nothing to prove to anyone okay? You're a perfect mum and no amount of handmade place settings will change that’ he joked, causing you to nod at him with a smile. ‘You’re not superwoman. No one expects you to be okay? In fact I think they think you’re all mental for wanting to host them a week after you’ve popped a baby out’ he teased. HE KNOWS HER SOOOOOO MUCH, OMG IM SOFT🥺🥺🥺

‘We’re not skipping Christmas, Mason’ you scolded, knowing he was only joking but you appreciated him trying to make you smile just like he always did. AHAHHAHAHA OUR GIRL WANTS THAT CHRISTMAS

‘Right miss, nap time for you’ you suddenly heard, feeling Mason’s hand on your shoulder but you shook it off. Wanting to finish what you were doing. NAP TIMEEE, MY FAVOURITE TIMEEEE

‘Come on babe, you know what the nurse said. You sleep when baby sleeps’ he told you softly. Pressing a kiss to your forehead as he tried to attempt to push you to the bed but you resisted ever so slightly. THE PERFECT HUMAN BEING

‘Baby, we spoke about this’ he whispered. Popping George in the next to me crib before holding your face so you could really look at each other. ‘You’re exhausted and you’ll be even more so when everyone gets here later. I can do what needs doing okay. Will it be as good as if you did it? No, not at all. But I’ll make up for it with my charm and wit’ he teased, hands slightly moving to your neck as you smiled lightly. ‘You need to let me help, remember?’ HE KNOWS HIS CHARM CAN CONQUER EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE

You slept for longer than you wanted to but you knew you must have needed it. Waking up to quickly feed George and get him changed into his little Christmas outfit before meeting Mason downstairs. Feeling warmth rush through you at the sight of him finishing up the table settings and you resisted the urge to run over and kiss his face off. HE DID A GREAT JOB🥹🥹🥹

Freya was first to arrive with Woody in tow. Making a beeline for George’s basket so she could pick him up and sit with him on Woody's lap. FAVOURITE AUNTIE IS HEREEEEE

‘Well no, but this isn’t just any baby though is it’ she laughed. Stroking his little cheek with her thumb as Woody made the same gesture on Freya’s thighs and the pair of them looked at him in awe. ‘This is my little Georgie Porgie, the cutest baby in the world, yes you are’ she babbled to him and it made your heart flutter to see how much they loved him. WHO IS THIS WOMAN? AHHAHAHAH WHAT DID SHE DO TO FREY? AHHAHAHA

‘Yes dad’ he huffed before you watched Mason put him in a headlock and ruffle his hair. ‘Don’t talk back son or Santa won’t stop at your house tonight’ he joked, trying to mess his hair up but Freya was quick to separate them so they could finish sorting the snacks out. AHHAHAHA CUTIES

‘How you doing, love?’ He asked, walking into the house with you under his arm, your eyes full to the brim at his affection. Knowing how protective he was over you made you feel so full and watching his eyes tear up as he caught sight of little George almost sent you over the edge. I LOVE HER RELATIONSHIP WITH TONYYYYY

‘Hi dad’ you smiled, enveloping him in a big hug straight away and you felt your eyes sting as he held you back just as tightly. THEY ARE GOOD AND HAPPY 🥹

You’d met his wife Liz and your two step sisters Abi and Hailey twice before and even though you thought it might be awkward and weird you all got on like a house on fire. Pulling them in for a hug each as they came inside before leading them into the living room so they could mix with Mason's family. OMGGGGG YOU DID ITTTT YESSSSS I'M SOOOOO HAPPYYYYYYYY,SHE HAS A BIG FAMILY NOWWWW

‘What? He was handed to me. I didn't steal him I promise’ she laughed but you saw the pout from a mile off when you attempted to take him. YES FREY😂

Your sisters talking to Jaz, your dad in deep conversation with Tony and Lewis and Debbie speaking to Liz who had George safely cradled in her arms. It all felt surreal to have everyone here together and it was overwhelming at how big your family was now. I'M OFFICIALLY A MESS😭😭😭😭

‘Honestly? I really couldn’t ask for anyone better to do this with’ you smiled at her, watching her face soften instantly before you looked down to see George yawning adorably in his sleep. ‘He knows me like the back of his hand and knows when to tell me off when I’m pushing it too far. I think I forget I only gave birth a week ago but he’s really looked after us this week. You should be really proud of him’ LOZ YOURE KILLING ME TODAY

‘Of course’ she smiled tearfully. ‘He’s always spoken about you and I had to really give him a kick up the bum to speak to you. I think he was ashamed of how he acted’ she confessed, and sensing you might need some alone time you felt Debbie shuffle next to you. OHHH 😭😭😭

‘Oh don’t you start, I’ve only just calmed down from Debbie saying the same’ you laughed, bumping your shoulder into his chest slightly. ‘But thank you’ you told him, smiling as Abi and Hailey shyly made their way over to join you all but you waved them over with a smile. ‘Would you guys like a hold?’ HER FAMILY🥹🥹🥹

‘It's not just that though, I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. She’s got nothing but praise for you out there and I know you’re looking after them so well. I just couldn’t be anymore proud of the man you are’ she sniffed. ‘And I know you’re not even doing it intentionally, it’s just who you are but it’s so lovely to see’ NO, LOZ, PLEASE, I CAN'T LOOSE ALL MY BODY FLUIDS 🥹🥹

You’d lost sight of Mason a while ago and now George seemingly too and as the noise in your living room grew louder you excused yourself to try and find them. Eventually finding the pair of them sat in the conservatory on the big sofa with a big fluffy blanket around the pair of them. Your chest feeling warm as you sat and watched Mason talk quietly to him before his eyes caught yours and he sent you a shy lopsided smile. OMG CUTIES

‘You’re such a good dad, Mase’ ‘But you are, you’re so good with him. And with me’ you laughed tears spilling down your cheeks. ‘Thank you for letting me join your boys only party’ OH LOVE YOU WILL FOREVER BE THE SPECIAL GUEST AT THESE PARTIES

‘You’re always invited to the boys only party’ he laughed, hearing Parker’s footsteps getting louder and louder before he rounded the corner and came into view. ‘Hello mate, you feeling left out?’ Mason laughed, tapping your thigh before Parker got the hint and jumped up next to you on the sofa so could lay his head on your lap. His eyes constantly flashing up to George as you scratched between his ears. ‘Well try and have a girl next, I feel like you’re a bit out numbered’ Mason laughed and you blushed at his words. Knowing he wanted to extend your family even more made your tummy flutter but you knew you had plenty of time for that. HE WANTS A GIRL TOO, THEY WANT A BIG FAMILY, SHE DIDN'T WANT A MAN IN HER LIFE 3 YEASR AGO😭😭😭

‘He’s just as obsessed with your boobs as I am’ AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH THAT'S HIM

‘Just seeing you with him, makes me realise how far we’ve come. Remember when you didn’t even want to be my friend? Now look at us’ he laughed. ‘I’d do it all again though if it meant we ended up here’ EXACTLYYYYY OMG, THE TOP TOP TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN

‘We’ll have to get the kids to bed soon or they’ll never sleep’ Jaz told you, stroking George’s cheek as she held him but Mason was pouting as soon as he overheard as he was having so much fun spending time with his little people. AHHAHAHA HE IS A BABY TOO

‘You’re hilarious, y/n’ Lewis laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before walking you towards the stairs. ‘We’ve got this. Go to bed and we’ll finish up and see you in the morning, yeah?’ ‘Mums orders!’ Debbie shouted from across the room, making you laugh as Lewis pushed you up the stairs. ‘We’ll see you in the morning okay?’ THEY JUST LOVE HER

‘There is. It scares me sometimes how well you know me. How you always know what’s best for me’ you whispered. His face softening as he took your hand in his so he could rub comforting circles into the back of it. HE IS YOUR MAN FOR A REASONNN BESTIE🤭

‘I love you too. And that’s why I want to give you a present early if that’s okay’ OHHHHH

‘George’s book of firsts?’ He read aloud, picking up the folder so he could get a better look before his eyes were on you. OMG THATS THE SWEETEST THING EVER

The middle name picked itself. Carrying on the tradition and a gentle nod to Mason's dad and all he did for the pair of you. You still remember the day you told Tony your thoughts around this and the little twinkle in his eye told you all you needed to know. OHHHHH TONY🥹🥹🥹

It was the last name that was a bit of a pickle. The pair of you not speaking about it as it had always been a bit of a contentious subject and so far no one had the guts to talk about it. OHHHHH

You knew Mason wasn’t thrilled by your thoughts on this subject. He wanted you to be his in every sense of the word and for his little boy to be his. But he also understood where you were coming from and loved you enough to look past it. THIA MAN IS PERFECT, I SWEAR

‘Mount? You want him to be a Mount?’ ‘I do’ you whispered. Taking his face in your hands so you could press a kiss to the end of his nose. And when we get married next year, I want to be a Mount too’ I'M CRYING AGAIN

‘I’m sure Mase. I want everyone to know we’re yours and we belong to you’ GIGGLING

‘You’ve given me everything I could ever want or need Mason. You’ve loved me when I didn’t deserve it and stood by me through thick and thin. All that I am, and all that we are now, it’s because of you and I’m ready to give myself to you fully. I know I said I didn’t want to lose my ties to my family but you’re my family. You and little Georgie are my whole life and it just feels like the final missing piece’ HE HONESTLY DESERVES THAT

‘I think that’s partly the reason why. Knowing my dad and his family better now helps. I know I’ve got him now and losing my last name doesn’t mean I’m losing him or that side of me. But I’m gaining a part of you and you’re the most special person in the whole world to me and I’ll always choose you. Good days, bad days, come rain or shine I’ll always choose you Mase. OMG THATS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CONFESION EVER

‘I can’t believe I’ve gotta wait another five weeks to show you’ he joked, making you roll your eyes as you realised what he wanted but couldn’t have just yet. SILLY AHAHHAH

‘Well how about you run down and grab those cookies from outside so we can share them. Distract you a little bit’ COOCKIESSSS

OMG THAT WAS PERFECTION

HER BEING OVER STRESSING AND HIM IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTANDING AND TAKING THE SITUATION IN HIS HANDS TO TAKE CARE OF HER

ALL THEIR BIG FAMILY REUNITED, AND HER BOUND WITH EVERYONE😭

THE BOUND BETWEEN HER, LIZ AND THE GIRLS? I WAS HOPING FOR YOU TO WRITW ABOUT IT SOOOOO MUCH🥹🥹🥹

WHEN SHE GOLD DEBBIE THAT MASON WAS PERFECT? AND DEBBIE TELLING HER AND HIM THAT SHE IS PROUD OF THEM?

THW BOUND BETWEEN Y/N AND TONY IS MY BIGGEST WEAKNESS, I SWEAR, HE IS LIKE A DAD FOR HER

THE LITTLE FAMILY MOMENT TO HAVE A PAUSE FROM THE NOISES

THE PRESENT, AND HIM LETTING HER DECIDE ON THE LAST NAME, OMG, THAT WAS THE BEST THING, JE WAS SO RELIEVED AND HAPPY AND PROUD TO MAKE THEM HIS COMPLETELY 🥹🥹🥹

AND THE RETURN OF THE COOKIES WHAT COULD HAVE I ASKED MORE?

LOZ, THANK YOU, SO SO SO MUCH, YOU JUST MADE MY DAY AND WEEK AND MONTH AND HEALED A PART OF ME🩷🩷🩷🩷 I CANT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU AND THAT, I SWEAR🥹🥹🥹🥹

IVE MISSED FEEDBACK LIKE THIS

I’m so happy you liked it 🥺

I feel like this was just one big emotional fluff fest but it was needed 🩷 love you bestie thank you much for always being so nice 🥰

[salehasposts]

Ok, second edit of my babiesss 💕💕💕

(the amount of storage these two have of my phone, went back and forth for this edit to hurry up, oh well, idm for them)

I don’t care if what anyone says about the song, this song fits them like a glove

“it’s been so long that I haven’t seen your face, I’m trying to be strong but the strength I have is washing away” "Why’d you go? Haven’t seen my girl since then, why can’t it be the way it was cause you were my only lover and friend”

“I just want to hold you, tease you, squeeze you tell you what’s been on my mind” “I can’t lie, I miss you much, watching every minute goes by, I guess I miss you much, till I get you back I’m going to try, guess I miss you much cause you are are the apple of my eye”

“Girl, I miss you much, I miss you much”

“I want you to fly with me, want you to fly, miss how you’re like with me, miss how you’re like, wish you could dine with me, wish you could dine, the one that grind with me, the one that grind”

“ I wanna make up right now, na, na, na I wanna make up right now na, na, na wish we never broke up right now na, na, na we need to link up right now na, na, na”

THIS SONG IS DEDICATED TO TARRANT, AS IT SHOWS HIS PAIN, HIS FEELINGS, HIS BROKEN HEART, AFTER ALICE LEFT HIM 2 TIMES IN THE ATTLG AND AIW.

this line hits hard,

"where you go, where you going, baby?!!!"

i feel like tarrant is SCREAMING this line 😔

poor tarrant, he deserved so much better, so much pain on his face, when stupid Alice left him 2 times and didnt meet his family...

all i can think about is that this song really does show tarrant pain, my heart is broken for him

I can imagine Tarrant singing this song, leaning down, depressed, just singing this song on his tea table, he must be dying without Alice, everyone just watching him heartbroken for him, probably mad at Alice for leaving him 🥺💔

btw,

"wish we never broke up right now, na na, na" (broke up, when alice left him in the first one, didn’t care about his heart, his feelings, she just left him, in the AIW and when alice left tarrant AGAIN in ATTLG, they held hands and Alice broke it until she completely went into the mirror and he still held his hand up and looked at it, hoping she would return after she went into the mirror, my poor Tarrant, 😢 so thats what this line means) hope that’s helps

After all these 8 lines really show,

TARRANT PAIN 😩

HOW IT SHOWS HIS FEELINGS

HIS BROKEN HEART🫀

[emeraldbabygirl]

The fight scene in End of Sky at the abandoned train station was kinda wholesome cause everyone came together to fight against Mighty Warriors and Doubt and Murayama was so happy to fight he was so excited it was so cute! And Kaito my baby got hurt and I know I didn’t like Rocky at first but when he went to fight the bloody tampon and he needed help and Cobra and the homies pulled up to help Rocky my heart 🥺 and poor Rocky my baby he hurt his hand and :( the the scenes after the credits :( ahhhh my babiesss but they were all so cute fighting together I love when they all come together and fight like the besties they really are 🥺 I love them

[foxymoxynoona]

i love when you correct a lil kid’s mispronunciation of something and they go “that’s what i said” and then proceed to mispronunce it even worse than before 🤣🤣🤣

Poor babiesss trying so hard!! My poor kids get sooo frustrated with this because my hearing loss means I don't hear consonants much and then you factor in little kids messing them up to begin with and I can be hopeless haha

[indecisive-dizzy]

HAPPY HEADCANONS FOR SPIDER DAISEY AND THEIR BESTIES BECAUSE THEY DESERVE HAPPINESS

Eddie and Frank hang out a lot after the big fight, mostly cause Frank does end up needing some assistance due to their injuries. The two hang out a lot and eventually become official

I can see maybe the first time they see each other after the fight, Eddie just runs to him and kisses him. It’s a really romantic moment between the two of them and i think that’s when they start causally seeing each other before they fully become a couple

After Howdy was released from rehab, his family had a whole “Welcome back home!” party for him. They have a good cry together but they need it

Flora is the kids’s guard dog. I think after all the reveals and the fight, the kids get followed around by paparazzi, mostly shitty reporters that want clout. So Flora accompanies them when they’re hanging out and keeps the reporters away from the kids.

I can totally see Flora going, “if you ever approach my kids without their permission again, I will shove your cameras so far up your asses you will be choking out your own film!” Or something like that-

Howdy learns how to make friendship bracelets at rehab, he gives them to the besties and they cry

They do origami together, it’s peaceful

Hugs are a must for these losers, they need to have physical contact at least once a day or they might just explode

During summer break they went on a road trip together I think (considering there probably weren’t any full on villains attacking the town)

Idk where but hijinks ensue and they come out closer than ever

Daisey and Frank help Eddie conquer his fear of bugs. It goes as well as it can go with three traumatized children

Platonic polycule maybe? /j

They babysit together to make money on the side, it usually ends in chaos but everyone is safe so it works out

They’re all queer and besties :3

We got a bi agender gardener/photographer/superhero, a non-binary gay bug expert, a gay jock/drag queen, and a bi rich boy/possessed supervillain. Truly a phenomenal bestie group

Julie is the unofficial fifth member that isn’t there super often cause she has her main friend group somewhere else

She isn’t there often but it’s always nice to have her there. She and Eddie are still close despite their “relationship” ending so suddenly

She’s the OG Frank/Eddie shipper, she was rooting for them since day one

Unrelated but the other neighbors/Julie’s friend group and very supportive and they’re all besties

They all go get coffee together at least a couple times a month, it’s needed

They all have a bit of a caffeine problem, so instead of coffee they all go and get milkshakes together

Howdy knows how to make them so he makes them every time they come over, it’s cute

Cuddling during scary movies is a must, Eddie needs to hug someone or the poor boy will have a heart attack

Daisey doesn’t mind but is slightly spooked, Frank is indifferent and/or uninterested in the pot unless it’s good, and Howdy is just fine watching the movie and laughing at any really funny or bad parts

They totally do dramatic reenactments of their favorite musicals together, like Heathers, Mean Girl, and Hamilton. I can see them belting out to Candy Store very dramatically and they die laughing by the end

I think they also wear really bad costumes Sally gets them from the school’s storage room, and it kills them every time cause they’re so ugly

They’re nerds and they need to be happy

My babiesss aeweagshahaaaa

Eddie was terrified waiting for Frank to be released from the hospital and when he saw frank he couldn't stop himself! that's the love of his life! it's about time he did something about it <3

sobss Howdy's family accepting and welcoming him back after everything is so,, so, waaaaaahhhh it's so sweettttt

Every superhero group needs the friend/family bodyguard who will kick ass even though the superhero might be able to kick harder haha Go Flora!

hmm dating Frank and Eddie, both in a qpr with Dasiey? Cute!

Catch Julie (and me) on the sidelines with Franklydear signs and face paint yelling for them to Just Kiss Already!

Howdy! Making! Milkshakes! idk why but it's my favorite hc for him Ever and I love the idea of him making milkshakes for his besties sobs

[tw1nter]

what if Kudou died instead of Yoichi?

:(( poor babiesss

(Usually I don’t do black and white/more detailed work like this but oh well, it was fun)

(I just usually think my work looks worse without color)

[humanpurposes]

My poor babiesss 😭💔 Thanks so much for reading ✨

Nightblooms

It was a single night, such a trivial moment, two children sharing lemon cakes in a brothel, but she has not forgotten it. He will not recognise her, surely? // Main Masterlist

Aemond x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, sex work, unresolved childhood trauma, implied underage and non-con (not explicitly depicted), mentions of war, violence and death

Words: 9.7k (she's a bit of a monster)

A/n: my humble offering of another Aemond brothel fic. I hope you like :) You can also read this on AO3 if you feel so inclined.

He remembers the bed, the thin curtain draped around it, the slight breeze that drifted in on the night air and made it flutter. The throw was richly decorated, red, black and brown, and he picked at the thin threads of embroidery with his fingertips until his skin was red and white. 

The heat in the room was unbearable, the stench of wine, incense, his own sweat clinging to his bare skin. He was weary to breathe the air in, to tarnish himself any further than had already been done. 

He flinched as the door opened. The madam was back, now wearing a gown and all her gold jewellery. A silhouette stood behind her, he couldn’t see them properly, concealed in shadows. 

“You are shivering, my Prince,” she said. 

He could feel it, his knees brought up to his chest and his arms clinging around his legs. His clothes were neatly folded in a corner, his eyepatch atop the pile, he just hadn’t managed to reach for them yet.

“Have some wine if you like,” the madam said. 

The silhouette stepped into the flickering candlelight. In years to come her face would fade from his memory, but she was young, perhaps as young as him. She was dressed like the other whores, in a loose gown of blue silk that exposed glimpses of her skin, her shoulder, her thigh through a slit in the skirt. She held a pitcher of wine and a cup in her hands.

“She is undertaking her own education,” the madam said, noting how long Aemond’s eye had lingered on the girl. “She’ll help you bathe and dress.”

He made no sound of protest. The madam took the pitcher. He could smell the sour scent of the wine as she poured it. Already a few cups deep, the numbness of alcohol was starting to wear off and a pulsing pain was blooming in the back of his head. The madam placed the cup on a table and then she left.

The girl took a single step towards the bed. She lifted her arm, holding out her hand to him, as if he were some street dog to be tamed.

He scowled. His left eyelids were sewn shut back then, his wound mostly healed after three years, but still hideous enough that people would stare in shock at the sight of him, the ailing King’s maimed son. The Lords and Ladies of the Red Keep averted their eyes when they saw him. His mother looked at him with tears in her eyes. His father… the last time his father must have looked him in the eye was on Driftmark.

But this girl looked at him unabashedly.

If he had his wits about him he might have scorned her. Smallfolk like her should know their place, they should revere their Princes. He shouldn’t inspire pity, he should inspire fear and awe.

His stomach was turning. Anger coursed through his blood. His eyes were hot and stinging but he would not allow any tears to fall. And he was restless. It was all familiar to him, the frustration, the humiliation. He couldn’t bear to sit on the bed anymore, cowering like a child.

“I have a bath drawn,” the girl said. 

He had heard her, but he could not find the will to move, not for a few moments at least, moments which felt like hours.

“I have some cake as well. I find it helps me regain my strength… afterwards.”

He felt his head nod.

“It’s lemon, do you like lemon cake?”

“Yes,” he muttered into his knees.

He watched her fetch a robe from the back of a settee by the fireplace, draping it over her arm. “We only have to go to the next room, not far at all.”

He blinked as he looked at her. He felt the dampness on his cheeks, the stinging cold left in the trail of his tears as another breeze swept into the room. 

All the faces around him this night were unnerving. Aegon had been far too delighted with his so-called “gift”. He’d entered Aemond’s chambers with a snarling smile before he’d gripped him by his shoulders and dragged him through the stairways used by servants to stay out of sight. “You are a man now, Aemond. Time to get it wet.”

The madam had a calm gaze, soft lips and small eyes which considered him intently once she had taken the purse of coins from Aegon. The scent of her perfume was sharp and he could still smell it in his nostrils. His stomach lurched again. 

“Come,” the girl said.

Hers was the only face he found any ease in, and he could not explain why that was.

She held out the robe for him and asked before she secured the tie at his waist. She went to a small door in the corner of the room which he had not even noticed until then. It led into another chamber where the air was hot and humid but not as suffocating.

A basin stood in the middle of the room. She took out two small brown bottles and let a few drops of oil fall into the water, filling the room with a gentle, fresh scent. “Lavender,” she explained, “and rosemary. They are meant to be calming.”

He stepped into the water, glad to find it just below scolding. 

The girl kneeled by the basin, gently pouring cups of water over his hair, running it through with a sweeter smelling oil. She took his hand and allowed him to settle, scrubbing his skin with sugar, cleansing it with an amber soap.

When it was done she rested her chin in her hands at the edge. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

He’d stopped crying now, his limbs felt steadier, more his own. He nodded.

“I don’t feel myself until I’ve washed it all off. It makes me feel as though my skin is truly mine again,” she said.

He felt his hands over his arms, the sweat and the fluids rinsed away, the dead skin scrubbed smooth.

“Thank you,” he said. His voice was thick, unnatural in his own throat.

“Do not thank me yet,” she said with a small smile, and suddenly jumped up to her feet. She walked out of his sight, past his blind spot, but she soon returned with a small wooden box. She kneeled beside the basin and opened the lid to reveal three small cakes, dusted with sugar and topped with thin slices of candied lemons. “Take one then,” she said.

He bit down on the inside of his lip to hide his amusement at her impertinence. He did as she told him and ate half of one cake in a single bite. A pleasant sourness burst on his tongue, not like the wine, sweeter, zestier. She was right, his mind was starting to feel a little less numb, the life flooding back into him with every breath he took, lavender, rosemary and lemon.

“You have one too,” he said.

“I’m not meant to,” she said, “they’re for the patrons.”

Aemond lowered his chin to look at her. “Take one.” Now it was his turn to deliver the orders.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting between him and the cakes.

“If anyone reprimands you I’ll feed them to my dragon.”

Her expression ignited. “Alright,” she said with a sly smile.

They devoured the rest of their cakes and shared the remaining one. She insisted that he should have the other candied lemon.

“Do you really feed people to your dragon?” she asked, wiping the crumbs from her mouth.

Aemond licked the sugar from his fingers. “I’ve not done it yet.”

She seemed stunned at his answer, then she giggled. “Yours is the big one, isn’t it?”

“Vhagar. She was Queen Visenya’s mount during the Conquest.”

“I see her sometimes, flying over the city.”

“She is too large for the Dragon Pit,” Aemond explained, “she nests along the shore of the bay.”

“And roams where she pleases?”

“Never too far from me.”

“No,” she said, her voice wilting, “of course.”

He suddenly wondered what this sad, sweet girl kneeling beside him would do if she had a dragon. He could picture her on Dreamfyre, the mount of his sister. Helaena adored flying and would often guide her dragon to glide above the waters of Blackwater Bay and the hills surrounding King’s Landing. This girl would take her dragon further, he thought, she would soar up above the clouds. Perhaps she would take her dragon over the seas, to Essos, to the Summer Isles, to the far corners of the world.

He did not flinch from her when she offered him a towel and patted his skin dry. She fetched his clothes from the other room, the awful room where he could not breathe, buttoning his shirt with swift fingers, doing up the buckles on his jerkin.

She was not much shorter than he was. She stood close enough that he could smell the lemon cake on her fingers, and there was something sweeter and richer underneath. It made him think of fresh fruit and vanilla, rose petals and nightblooms.

Her eyes drew slowly up from his collar to his face, to the wound slicing through the space where his eye once was.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

He was no stranger to pain. It had persisted since the incident itself, stinging and shooting through his skull. It once made him cower like a child, but of late it had lulled into more of a passing irritation. Had the extent of the pain subsided, or was he simply used to it now? “Sometimes,” he said. 

“How did it happen?”

The years had passed quickly since then. He remembered the joy he felt flying before the moon and the stars over Driftmark on Vhagar, the faces of his nephews and cousins in the dark. He spat cruelties at them. They shoved him, punched him, kicked him. He remembers the taste of his own blood, the crack of Lucerys’ nose under his knuckles, the dust in his eye and then a pain like fire piercing through to his brain.

Three years and he still felt clumsy in his movements. He would often lose his balance or misjudge his steps. He would miss objects as he went to reach for them, and he was still not quite used to turning his head so that he could see past his blind side.

He’d never had to say it out loud before, not all of it. It had been enough for Lord Commander Westerling to find his face covered in blood and the remains of his eye. He had told his father he had been attacked, but it went unheard to the pleas of innocence by the bastards and their mother. The maesters studied his wound. Cole told him he could regain his strength if he worked for it. Everyone else tended to avert their eyes altogether.

She was looking at it, trailing her fingertips over the edges of his scar and the twisted flesh of his eyelids. 

“It was the night I claimed Vhagar. I was returning to Hightide and they came at me, Jace, Luke, Laena’s daughters–” he suddenly realised these names meant nothing to her, but she did not seem discouraged.

“Go on,”

“Rhaena, well, Vhagar was her mother’s dragon. She wanted her, but I claimed her first. I was not afraid of them. Baela struck me first. Then Jace and Luke came at me, and Jace had a knife.”

She breathed a small gasp.

“Luke took up the knife. It all happened very quickly.”

“They did that to you, over a dragon?” She said, trailing her touch lower, over his cheek. 

He remembered the cool surface of the rock in his hand, hovered over Jace’s head. One of the girls shook her head, begging him to stop. And he did—  or he was going to stop…

That’s when Luke had slashed the blade at him.

“I was weak,” he said, brushing her hand away from his face. “It’ll never happen again.”

She tilted her head at him. Her eyes were glassy, like she might cry. Guilt tugged in his chest. He had not wished to upset her.

Then she took a quick breath and went to take up his cloak and his eyepatch. He placed them both on, covering his silver hair with his hood.

She beckoned him to follow with her fingers. They weaved through the close corridors and the few women and men they passed, some fully dressed, some wearing nothing at all. It felt ridiculous and somewhat unbelievable to see how unashamed they all were, women with their breasts out, men with their cocks hanging between their legs. 

His stomach turned again.

He reached for the girl’s hand. Her head whipped around and she held onto him, firmly. He didn’t want to lose sight of her, he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone in this place.

Neither of them let go when they reached the doors. People were passing though so they kept close to the wall, face-to-face. 

“Can you find your way back to the Keep from here?” she said, only having to whisper.

Aegon had long since disappeared. Aemond had rarely been out into the city, save to accompany his mother to the Sept, or his siblings to the Dragon Pit. He was alone now, no guards, no wheelhouse, but the Red Keep with its turrets, battlements and flickering lights in the windows would not be difficult to locate. He nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?” 

“For what happened to you.”

His stomach turned again, less nauseating, more unsettling, uncertain. He supposed this would be the last time he saw her.

“Will you be alright, here?” he said.

She took in a sharp breath and she frowned as though she were in pain. “Yes. The madam is good to me. She keeps me fed and clean.”

But the things they must make her do…

“Go, return to your royal castle and your servants,” she said with a grin. “Far better that I am here and not starving in some gutter.”

So he did. He slipped through the door, his last memory of her being obscured by shadows, perhaps that’s why he could not recall the details of her face. 

Walking through the streets of King’s Landing, he had never felt so aware of his body, his skin under his clothes, shifting over his bones. His limbs felt slightly numb, his feet moving of their own will while his mind… was clouded. His head felt heavy and the noises around him were distant. No one paid any mind to the boy trudging over the dirt and cobbles, but he felt the eyes of the gods on him and it made him shiver. They had seen his sins. What if his mother knew where he had been, the things he had done? He imagined her brown eyes, filled with disgust rather than grief.

He could not look at Aegon for weeks afterwards. He shied away from his mother’s touch, especially on his legs, his knees. In the Sept he begged the gods to forgive him. He begged to forget it.

Years went by. Some nights when he felt a certain tension in his stomach and a stirring in his breeches, he’d think of it, the heat and sweat and incense. And after there was no relief, just an emptiness in his chest.

He could wash it all away, with drops of lavender and rosemary oil in his bath, with sugar scrubbed into his skin.

If there was one thing he wished to remember of that night, it was her. He still thought of that girl, a face obscured in shadow, when the servants brought out lemon cakes after supper, when Helaena insisted on walking through the gardens at sunset and the air was sweet with nightblooms. She pointed them out to him, the silvery white flowers growing in the leafy green bushes lining the path, their petals like little moons in the foliage. 

“How curious are these,” Helaena had said one evening, “they retract in sunlight, but in darkness they flourish.”

Daylight dies with a golden sunset and night blooms with a sky of red and indigo clouds. 

The King’s body is now ash. Sunfyre had the honour of being the dragon to do it. It was a hasty affair, in the hours after Aegon’s coronation, when the chaos at the Dragon Pit still had their family and the Small Council stunned to silence. Aegon wore the steel crown as they stood on a cliff over the bay, waiting for him to give the order. The heads of his mother and his sister hung heavy, but Aemond did not avert his gaze from the flames. He felt the heat on his face, seeping through his skin. 

At long last, his father is gone. Aemond has not wept for him, nor does he feel a desire to. His father was once a young man, well loved, so he is told, but to Aemond he was always a frail old man. Save for the few times he ever proved his strength, and even then his strength was only ever resolved for his dearest child. 

Rhaenys will have made it to Dragonstone within a matter of hours, and Aegon’s ascension will not come without consequence. 

On the morrow he will fly for Storm’s End and secure the allegiance of Lord Borros Baratheon. His mother has assured him this will be a simple enough feat, swords for a marriage pact with one of the Baratheon girls, but a crucial one. His brother will not hold the throne long without Lords to uphold his claim and men to fight for it. 

He wonders if the Stormlands will live up to their name; how dull the entire affair will be if it only amounts to flying Vhagar through a downpour of rain. This is the war his mother and grandsire wish to fight, with letters and diplomacy. He is sure the dragons will become restless soon enough. Rhaenyra has been steadfastly sure of her own importance her entire life, and with Daemon at her side, she will not bend the knee without a challenge.

And what of Aegon, is he ready to fight for his crown?

When Viserys breathed his last and the pieces were all finally in play, Aegon had not been where he needed to be. Not in his rooms, not within the walls of the castle. He was squandering his duties, evading the position he was born to, as he always has done. Aemond himself was the one to drag him from the streets of King’s Landing to the Red Keep. Cole had spent hours with him, convincing him to take up the crown rather than fleeing on a ship across the Narrow Sea, to Pentos, to Yi Ti, some far corner of the world where the burden of being their father’s son would not weigh so heavily on his shoulders. 

The first place Aemond had thought to look for his brother proved to be a fruitless endeavour. The establishment was a familiar one, and with every step he took along the Street of Silk his memories phased into reality. The knocker on the door was the same. The madam was the same, the same long, auburn hair, the same gold jewellery, the same knowing smile on her lips and a gleam in her eyes. 

“The Prince is not here,” she had said. “His tastes are known to be less discriminating.” Of course. Aegon could pay for the most expensive, sweetly perfumed whores in all of King’s Landing, but instead he sullies himself with the scum of Fleabottom, rolling around in the dirt like a pig.

The madam’s gaze then turned to Aemond. She remarked how he had grown. It felt an obvious thing to say. He was no longer the child he was when Aegon first brought him there.

While he and Cole wandered the city in search of his wastrel of a brother, a thought passed through his mind. He thought of a face in the shadows of the brothel, steam rising, gentle hands, the scent of lavender, rosemary, rose, nightblooms…

She could have been there, on the other side of the door, within the walls of the establishment. She would be a woman just as he was now a man. Or she might have left years ago, to a better life, or perhaps a worser fate. Are the lives of the smallfolk not meant to be brutish and short? 

A hollowness settles in his chest, restless and hungry, like it’s writhing under his skin. He paces his chambers, reads until the hearth has died and the sky beyond the windows is black, but sleep will not come to him.

In the hour of the wolf, he dons a cloak and retraces his steps.

Men are all the same. They strut into the establishment like peacocks, with an ego that outweighs their purse. They flash a few coins and ask for wine rather than ale, a symptom of refined taste. They run their hands over her body, her waist, her hips and her rear as though she should be grateful for their attention. They tell her uninteresting stories while they drink themselves into a stupor. They convince themselves that it is their charm and decent looks that have her leading them to a bed in a quiet corner of the pleasure house, or falling to her knees and undoing the laces on their breeches. The truth is that she will do what is asked of her, so long as they have gold. It is only motions of the body, and afterwards she can wash it all away. 

Until the next night… and then the next… and then the next…

Madam Sylvi has promised her to a Lannister tonight, a man of Lord Tyland’s household, no doubt paid well by the family he serves. He is supposed to be waiting for her but first she must pretty herself for him. She wears a gown of blood red that bares her back and her arms, that will easily fall away with the undoing of a clasp at her neck. She lets her hair fall freely and tints her lips and cheeks with rosewater. Finally she dabs her perfume into her wrists, her neck, on the insides of her ankles, a scent she has worn for years, sweet, rich and floral.

She descends the stairs by the door. At the darkest time of night the pleasure house is alive. Music hums over the laughter, the moans, the cries. The air is thick with the sourness of alcohol and the smell of sweat and sex.

A man with silver hair stands in the entrance hall, Sylvi beside him. They speak with their heads close together, as familiars? As lovers? Sylvi strokes his arm affectionately, with a look glinting in her eye that means she intends to bleed this Targaryen of all the gold he has.

It does not sink in until he looks up, his single eye meetings hers. He wears an eyepatch over his left eye, dark leather obstructing his hair and pale skin.

The eyepatch… it cannot be…

Sylvi had always said men come here to take their pleasure on their own terms. This had not seemed to be the case when last she laid eyes upon Prince Aemond. She had seen them enter, the young Princes, one taller, merrier, with purple wine stains in the corners of his mouth. The other was solemn faced and unsure, ushered into the arms of the madam before she led him upstairs. Sylvi had other patrons to attend to once the deed was done, leaving the burden of caring for the young Prince on her equally young shoulders.

She still remembers him hunched over himself and shivering, the distant look in his eye, frozen in a single moment of time. The most she had been offered after her first time was a cup of moon tea and an order to change the sheets for the next patron.

It was a single night, such a trivial moment, two children sharing lemon cakes in a brothel, but she has not forgotten it. He will not recognise her, surely?

“Her,” the Prince says, “I will have her.”

Her heart drops. She has reached the end of the steps and freezes, looking to Sylvi for instruction. Anticipation stirs in her gut, somewhere between terror and curiosity.

“I’m afraid she has been spoken for tonight, but I would be glad to–”

“I will pay double what any other man has promised,” Aemond says with an air of finality. This is an offer that cannot be refused. Perhaps the minor Lord will be disgruntled, but he will be compensated generously. Defying a Prince is treason. 

While Sylvi has gone to deal with the outbidded Lord, her legs carry her down the last few steps until she is face to face with Prince Aemond.

He is taller for a start, at least a head above her. His hair is longer, his face is slimmer and sharper, his lips are settled into a slight pout. He carries himself differently, proudly. Her eyes move over his leathers under his cloak. She is not meant to admire the men who seek her services. She is meant to take their coin and fulfil their desires.

“Some wine, my Prince?” she asks, nodding towards the inner chamber, the heart of the pleasure house where the musicians play and bodies mingle out in the open or behind drawn curtains. 

He offers her a cryptic “hmm,” and follows her inside.

One of the other girls stands in a corner, carrying a tray of full cups. She passes one to Aemond, his fingertips brushing over her skin as he takes it. 

The Prince studies his surroundings like a hunter looking for quarry, lips quirked, jaw tight, somewhat amused but silent. Something tells her he has not returned to the pleasure house in the years since his first visit. This is all unfamiliar to him. He sips his wine and takes a slow breath. No doubt he will prefer somewhere a little more secluded.

She takes his hand and weaves through the room, to one of the adjacent chambers lit by candlelight, large enough to fit a bed and little else.

With the curtains drawn the other sounds fade into nothing. She takes Aemond’s wine and sets it aside, coming to stand before him.

She keeps waiting for him to lean into her, to grab greedily at some part of her flesh, to claim her lips with his. Instead he stands stoically, his chest rising and falling from underneath the thick leather of his tunic.

“Are you not awfully warm, my Prince?” she says in a honeyed voice, one she has practised for years that usually feeds the lie she actually wants what’s about to happen. She trails her fingertips over the shiny silver buckles that conceal him from her, his body stiffening under her touch.

She takes a breath to steady the erratic beat of her heart and the wanting stirring in her belly. It is not often that her own forwardness seems out of place. 

She remembers the boy with silver hair. She remembers the scowl on his face, how it melted into confusion and fear. He had needed patience then and she was happy to give it. Because she was ordered to. Because she pitied him. Perhaps because she recognised something in his expression and the way he seemed unsure in his own skin.

She places a hand on his shoulder, testing the waters of how close she can get to him. He does not protest. His nose twitches as he inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “Perhaps we should make ourselves more comfortable?” she says.

He places his hand over hers, guiding it to the top buckle at his collar. His expression is stern, his face bathed in golden candlelight and the shadows caught in the angles of his face. His eye is somehow soft but intent.

Undressing him is not to be rushed. She takes her time with every buckle on his jerkin and pushes it slowly from his shoulders. She untucks his undershirt from his breeches and he pulls it over his head. His skin is smooth, mostly unmarred, save for a small scar in the crook of his elbow that had not been there the last time they met. He is all muscle, lean and lithe. She places her palms at his chest and lets them drag down his abdomen, to the waist of his breeches.

He holds her wrists to stop her.

She looks to his eye, terrified that she might have overstepped.

Instead he kisses her. It’s gentle and chaste, his hand against the bare skin of her back, pulling her against his body. When she teases his tongue with hers he chases it, only for the kiss to become messy and clumsy. She cannot bring herself to dislike his inexperience.

“Wait,” she says, pulling away, putting her hands on either side of his jaw. “Follow my lead,” she whispers, leaning in to capture his lower lip between hers. They find a rhythm then. She shows him to move slowly, to be firmer. As their kiss deepens she allows herself to melt into his arms. Her hips are rocking against his, his hand trailing over her skin until he finds the clasp of her dress. The material falls away as simply as it should, leaving her bare before him.

He studies her the same way he studied the room. How many men have laid eyes on her since she came to this place? Too many to count, insignificant men, who have no names or faces in her memory. She has no shame in her nakedness, but there has never been any doubt in her mind that those men found her desirable. Being under Aemond’s scrutiny makes her tremble. She wonders if the sight of her pleases him. He has enough gold and enough pride to be selective. 

He had asked for her though. Why?

He’s staring at her. “They crowned my brother today,” he says.

It is not what she was expecting to hear. “I saw.”

“You were there?”

“No.” The gold cloaks did not empty the whorehouses when they were ordered to fill the Dragonpit with witnesses for the King’s coronation.

Aemond’s attention is on her body now. He reaches for her arm, tracing circles over her skin with his thumb.

She had not seen the King himself but she had seen the crowds flocking. She had heard the tremendous noise of crumbling stone, people screaming, a dragon’s screech. “I saw the dragon. People say it is an omen.”

Aemond’s face darkens but his attention is still on his own hand, now at her waist. With the other he pulls the eyepatch from his head and tosses it towards his discarded shirt. She does not get much of a chance to refresh her memory of his maimed eye before he leans into her again. His lips are at her shoulder, then her neck and it leaves her utterly weightless. 

“Your perfume is the same,” he mutters into her skin.

He remembers.

Aemond seems content enough following her lead. He lets her slip his breeches past his hips and take him into her mouth. He lets her sit atop him and grind her core against his hardened cock until her peak washes over her, blissful and warm.

When he starts to buck his hips and dig his fingertips into her hips she decides to give him respite. She sinks herself onto him with a soft sigh. It is a rare opportunity to chase a feeling rather than letting herself go through a rehearsed set of motions. 

His eye moves between her face and the space where their bodies meet, as if he cannot decide which is more fascinating. She is pleasantly surprised when he places his thumb at her pearl and circles over her sensitive flesh.

She loses herself in it, how deep he reaches, pleasure rising and tightening until it releases suddenly, violently. She falls forwards on her hands to steady herself. 

Before long Aemond lifts her off his cock, finishing himself with a stuttering groan and his seed dripping through the folds of her cunt.

He holds her close, caging her in his arms and bringing her into his chest. There’s a numbness that follows pleasure and she cannot bring herself to care that he is crushing her ribs. It doesn’t matter. She basks in the heat of his skin and the smell of him. 

He makes good on his promise of payment. The purse of coins he leaves on the bed before he leaves is worth ten nights with any other patron. 

There is less pretence the next time he visits her.

It is only a day later. He comes in the middle of the night, his hair, coat and leather gloves soaked, but there is no rain in King’s Landing. They tear at each other’s clothes and kiss like starved dogs devouring scraps. Aemond holds her by her jaw and her neck. When she draws his teeth over his lip he grins.

Once he is bare she realises his skin is cold and he is shivering.

“You should sit before a fire and warm up properly–”

“No,” he insists, “I just want you.”

She chases her pleasure once more, Aemond’s hands bruising into her hips as he thrusts up to meet her, the coldness of his palms seeping through her skin. This newfound urgency is thrilling and she finds herself curling over her body as her peaks tears through her.

Aemond is not finished with her yet. He positions her beneath him, spreading her legs apart with two wide palms before fucks her with a brutal precision, and he does not stop until he has reached his own end, painting her belly and the tops of her thighs.

After, he takes her into his arms, positioning them both so that he lies under her arm with his head nestled on her chest, between her breasts. She strokes her fingertips through his damp hair, over his skin, all the places where lovers touch each other, his cheek, his neck, underneath his ear, his shoulder. With his arm draped over her stomach he clings to her like he may never know such intimacy again. His skin is still cold and yet she holds him close, determined that she will draw some warmth from him.

Hours pass. Days could pass and she’d be content to lie with him.

“The dragon was an omen, you said,” he mutters.

It takes her a moment to rouse herself. Her eyes had closed, her mind half asleep. “That’s what people are saying. A coronation marred by death must surely only lead to more death.”

She feels his arm tighten over her stomach.

“You’re cold,” she says.

“I was instructed to fly to the Stormlands.”

“Why?”

“To secure the support of Lord Baratheon. He has pledged his banners to my brother’s cause and in return I am to wed his daughter.”

His state suggests to her that he has not yet returned to the Red Keep.

“Is there to be a war?” she says. 

He remains frozen for a few moments.

“I believe war may now be inevitable,” he says. She feels his lips brushing over her skin.

“How so?” she says on a quiet breath.

“A boy is dead because of me.”

The coldness of Aemond’s body has decidedly taken root within her, like a fist closing over her heart and throat.

“Lucerys was there, at Storm’s End. Lord Borros shunned him from the hall but I… it wasn’t enough. I pursued him on Vhagar. His dragon is nothing to her, they didn’t stand a chance.”

She is not sure she wishes to hear of this, but a new kind of stillness has settled over her. She is too afraid to move, to disturb him. 

“He is the one who took your eye,” she says.

Aemond hums. “He never paid for what he did to me. My father was more concerned with the slanders against my sister than he was with me, with my blood spilled by my own kin.”

She closes her eyes, imagining the little boy from all those years ago is curled up in her arms. She runs her fingers through his hair, undoing the knots and tangles. She cradles his head in her arms so he knows he is not alone.

“His debt is paid now, I suppose,” Aemond says.

It is in the early hours of the morning when he finally leaves, the first glimpses of sunrise chasing night from the sky. She helps him dress and fastens his eyepatch over his head. He leaves another purse in her palm, a more than generous amount. 

He comes to her nightly. He is an unhurried lover and fucks her slowly, hovering his lips above hers so that they share the same air, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together as if he wishes to smother her, or else crawl under her skin. She’d let him do it.

It is not simply her body he wants. When they are done he wants to be held, and then his thoughts slip from between his lips. 

He had not expected to return to the Red Keep a hero for slaying his nephew, but now he says his mother can hardly look at him. His grandsire, the Hand of the King scorns him for his recklessness, for his impulse for violence that now means the false Queen may strike at any moment. Vhagar circles the city during the day, she sees the dragon when she goes to the market. Aemond insists that his dragon could make short work of destroying any other who would seek to oppose her, but Rhaenyra has dragons to spare. He sits in meetings of the Small Council and watches in despair as the Hand and the Dowager Queen advocate for patience and diplomacy. 

“We should be marching,” he says one night, tracing his fingertips over her stomach. “We should secure the support of the Crownlands, adding their numbers to our host. Rhaenyra is isolated enough on Dragonstone, but we could cut her off from her allies completely.”

“And none would stand against you and Vhagar,” she says. Assuring him has become a learned skill these last few weeks.

“Alicent wishes for me to remain here, to deter an attack on the city.”

“That is sound logic,” she says. “The people of King’s Landing will be grateful for your protection.”

Aemond hums irritatedly.

“I for one would despair at the loss of our Prince,” she adds, ghosting her lips over his cheek, where his scar cuts through his skin.

For a little while he entertains her, turning his head to kiss her properly. She slips her hand between their bodies, taking hold of his hardening cock. He melts into her, chasing his pleasure as she strokes him.

“I am ready for more,” he says breathlessly. “I’m ready to fight.”

“As you have proved,” she says, coming to kiss his throat. 

In a single breath he is above her, pinning her hands by her head. He positions himself against her, rocking his hips so his leaking tip pushes against her pearl. He knows this about her now, how to draw her pleasure from her body. “Storm’s End was no battle,” he hisses into her ear. “Luke was a child. I want fire and blood.”

“Your time will come,” she says, her voice catching in her throat as he quickens his pace.

“The war must be inevitable,” he pants, “the realm will realise it soon enough. Aegon is the King and yet he is hostage to those with weaker wills.”

“You are his brother,” she sighs as Aemond slips lower to her entrance. “You can convince him to act–”

“Not now,” Aemond says, pushing into her with one sudden thrust. “Just take it, that’s it…”

He fucks her slowly, deeply, with his face buried into her neck. His desperation fuels her own desire, his hot breath against her ear, his pants and his groans. When he is finished he does not leave her wanting, trailing his lips and tongue down her body, her chest, her stomach, driving her towards her own peak with his lips and tongue.

“My grandfather takes my aspirations as insolence,” Aemond mutters to himself as he dresses. “He thinks me weak. He thinks I am still a child.”

“Then he is a fool,” she says, still buried beneath the throw on the bed.

“My mother and grandfather seized the throne, now they will not do what needs to be done to hold it.”

“Perhaps they fear what a war might bring.”

Aemond tuts. “The first blood has been drawn.”

“Do you not…” she pauses when he looks at her, his eye wide, anticipating something he will not wish to hear. “What if Rhaenyra comes for you? What if she seeks vengeance for her son?”

Aemond smiles like he has a secret and stalks slowly towards the bed, her stomach tightening in anticipation. 

In some ways, Aemond terrifies her. He has a presence of danger and bloodlust which fades away when she peels away the layers of his leathers. Without his eyepatch, in the warmth of the candlelight, he is the picture of Valyrian beauty, a man who belongs in histories and legends, not the living, breathing realm she exists in. 

He leans into her, taking her chin between his fingers to kiss her. She relishes it for as long as she can, knowing it won’t be enough to charm him back into the bed.

He pulls away, reaching into his pocket for a purse of coins. “Let her try,” he says as he places it beside her, “but I will not be easily ended.”

The girls all share chambers, bedrooms and a washroom with basins and baths. She rises early in the morning to bathe, to drop her lavender and rosemary oils into the tub and scrub away the remnants of last night. Before, she would not allow herself to fall asleep until she was clean. Lately she finds an odd sense of comfort in the reminders of her royal patron. Her skin is littered with love bites and bruises, her neck, her collar, her breasts. It shouldn’t be like this. Usually she does what she can to forget the men she has been with.

They share their duties. This morning she is to help wash the bed linens, and find cheap grain and cuts of meat from the markets.   

The clothes she wears are modest, covering her arms and her neck, unflattering to her figure. Some people still eye her with disgust, with hatred. You can always spot a whore. What can strangers know of her? Can they see through her skin and see her sins as the gods judge them all from the seven heavens? It was not as if she had chosen this path for herself out of an endless number of possibilities. 

Sometimes she remembers the life she had before, a woman’s laugh, a particular taste on her tongue, a tune humming in the back of her mind she can’t quite piece together. She used to think the gods had forsaken her, but now she thinks they do not concern themselves with the lives of people like her. So she finds little point in looking to the past, of imagining a future for herself. She survives and that is enough.

Summer is nearing its end. There is no warmth to be found in sunlight obscured by clouds. People walk quickly, keeping their belongings in deathly grips. A woman with a babe in her arms begs the baker to accept one copper instead of five for a loaf of bread. A man despairs that the apothecaries cannot offer him a medicinal herb from Lys for his sickly daughter. The shipping lanes are blocked by the Velaryon Fleet holding the Gullet, and no ship can get in or out of King’s Landing. A woman cries for her son, a rat catcher, his body hanging from the walls of the Red Keep. 

She gets what she needs to, grain she will bring back to the kitchens for the cook to turn into plain tasting flatbread. A butcher sells her tough cuts of beef for a reasonable price to go into a stew. He worries that there have been no imports of salt or sugar. How is the city meant to preserve food for the fast approaching winter? 

“It’s the fucking war,” he grumbles, “why can’t the King just burn the ships so the rest of us can eat?”

In the distance she hears drums, the clatter of horse hooves against the cobbles. She keeps her basket tightly on her arm, not stopping to make eye contact with the people she passes, past the stalls, mules, the buckets of sewage and dirty water falling from windows above her head.

As she emerges from one of the side streets her way is suddenly blocked by masses of people. She had guessed some sort of procession was afoot. This is no celebration, it is lamentation. People weep and wail around her, a mass mourning that she does not understand, and yet she feels it in her chest and behind her eyes, an urge to cry.

Over the sea of bodies before her she sees two women in an open carriage, richly dressed with black veils over their faces. Petals fall from windows and footbridges. People cry the name of Queen Helaena and Dowager Queen Alicent. 

She finds a small ledge to lift herself onto at the base of a statue. What she sees could stop her heart. This is a funeral procession. Queen Helaena’s carriage follows the body of her son, wrapped in a green and gold shroud, with flowers woven into his white hair. For a moment she tells herself the boy is an effigy, that he could be made from wax or porcelain. 

“Behold the work of Rhaenyra Targaryen!”

The whispers follow her as she scurries back to the pleasure house. The Prince was slain in his sleep. Two assassins cut his head from his body. They made his mother and twin sister watch. 

Bile rises in her throat as she hands cook the cuts of meat, blood seeping through the wrappings. She swallows it down.

When Aemond comes to her that night he is more subdued than usual. He pulls her into his arms and she strokes her hand over his hair.

“My nephew is dead,” he utters. He sheds no tears, he seems confused more than anything.

Rhaenyra’s retribution had come then, swift and brutal, a son for a son. 

She undresses him but he leans away when she tries to kiss him. They lie back on the bed and Aemond settles his head on her shoulder.

“My brother is in a rage and wants Rhaenyra dead. My sister has not left her rooms; I tried to go to her but she would not speak to me,” he says.

“How did it happen?”

“There were two. One was a gold cloak. They found him at the gate of the gods with Jaehaerys’ head in a sack. He confessed the other was a rat catcher.” 

Now the bodies of a hundred men hang by their necks, though only one of them is guilty.

“Daemon sent them to kill me,” Aemond says, “but I was out.”

She rests her fingers at the pulsepoint on his wrist to remind herself his heart is still beating. “You were with me,” she says. She feels the guilt weighing in her chest. While she and Aemond had kissed and fucked and held each other, a boy had a lost his life, the very body she had seen paraded through the streets.

“In truth I am proud that he considers me such a foe, that he would seek to murder me in my bed.”

She cannot tell if she admires him for it or not, to gamble with life as though it means nothing.

Aemond is watching her, his hair loose and framing his face. “Do you think he fears me?”

She has never seen Aemond wield a blade. She’s never seen him ride his dragon, not up close. She’s never seen him fight with his fists. She’s never seen him slur his words and throw away threats in a drunken argument. He is always composed. He is always softly spoken, and in a way that terrifies her more than it should. They say the blood of the dragon runs hot. Aemond’s blood does not seem to burn, rather it simmers under the surface of his skin. 

“Perhaps he fears what else you might be capable of.”

Aemond is the closest she has ever seen him to tears. His eyelashes are damp and heavy, his seeing eye vibrantly blue and glassy. “You think me a monster,” he utters.

She could never say it, could she? But this is a man who took the life of his own kin as a reparation for his eye. Violence is carved into his face, beautiful, set with a gemstone, but it is there nonetheless. 

She brushes her fingertips over his cheek and plants a delicate kiss to his lips. After only a few moments he shrugs her off and repositions himself, curling into her lap like a child, clinging to her limbs and the fabric of her gown. 

“I lost my temper that day,” he says. “I should have known Vhagar would not relent. I am sorry for it.”

Her blood runs cold. Should she be glad to hear he is remorseful? He may not be a cold hearted killer, but destruction lives at his fingertips. 

She reaches for his hand and he takes it. His touch is gentle and hesitant. “There was no justice in what happened to you,” she says, “blood has paid for blood…” but where does it end? With Lucerys? With Jaehaerys? With the next?

Aemond says nothing. She feels his tears slip onto her legs, his fingernails forming crescents in her skin.

Remorse will not return Rhaenyra’s son to her, it will not bring back the little Prince paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.

She clings to him, hoping she can ease whatever torment plagues him, and banish what darkness consumes him.

She never tires of the sight of him. His body bare, his hair tied away from his face, the uneven edges of his sapphire glinting in the lowlight, laid out beneath her. She runs her hands over his chest, tracing the lines that are familiar to her now. “I want to taste you,” she says sweetly, knowing he’ll already be desperate for her. 

He hums quietly to himself. By the slight smile threatening to break in the corners of his mouth, she knows he is content.

“On your knees then,” he says, and positions himself to sit at the end of the bed.

She runs her tongue over his length first, finishing with a teasing lick at the tip where he’s already weeping. She takes him into her mouth gradually, pushing a little deeper with every bob of her head. He is her Prince, he takes his pleasure from her and holds her hair from her face but it is she who sets the pace, who revels in his moans as his mind lulls. 

But he pulls her head away by her hair before he finishes. Suddenly she’s on her back and he’s kneeling over her with his fist moving furiously over his cock. He reaches for her breast and squeezes. In the morning when she bathes, she’ll look at the bruises and remember how he touches her. Her own had slips between her legs, tracing circles over her pearl at the thought.

This pleases Aemond. His brow hardens and his jaw falls. “Fuck, are you going to finish with me?” he whispers.

She nods in reply, her breath catching as a whimper in her throat. 

His grip on her breast tightens. She winces at the pain and it only fuels her own pleasure. She succumbs to her senses, chasing the feeling in her gut that only wants for release. Her fingers work frantically over her wet and wanting cunt.

“Make yourself come for me, that’s it,”

She obeys him with a cry, her body reduced to a shaking, dazed mess as Aemond reaches his own end. She watches his seed spurt from his cock, warm as it paints her skin.

He has habits, she’s noticed. He does not spill inside her. Of course, with the nature of the establishment there is no shortage of moontea, but she never questions him when he removes himself. He prefers to see it on her skin. 

Targaryen bastards are not uncommon in King’s Landing, commoners with silver hair. It is said Prince Aegon himself has sired many on the women of Fleabottom. Perhaps the idea is distasteful to Prince Aemond. He is discreet. He does not bring drinking companions with him to the pleasure house and he keeps his hood up as he enters and exits. 

He takes a cloth and wipes his seed from her skin. She bites back another jolt of anticipation in her spine. She would take more from him, but instead he lies beside her, curling into her embrace, tucking his head into her chest. 

He could fuck her quickly and be done with it, it would be more efficient. He could take a different girl each time. He could have one brought up to the castle. Yet since the day of the King’s Coronation he has found his way into her arms to her each night. In these quiet moments she lets herself think there is a reason for it.

They trace their fingertips over each other’s skin and he tells her things she shouldn’t know, that the King has named a new Hand in Ser Criston Cole, that while Queen Alicent seeks to avoid open war, Aegon wants to fly headfirst into it.

“It’s not his place. He’ll not stand a chance against Meleys or Caraxes.”

The names are strange to her. Sometimes it feels like a cruel joke, a reminder that some Silk Street whore is not meant to understand the realm he exists in. Other times it feels like an honour, like he’s gifted her a part of himself, a glimpse into his mind.

“He is no warrior, but he wishes to live up to his namesake. He wants for glory alone; it is a reckless pursuit but he would risk his life for it.”

“He is the King, is it not his war to fight?” she says. 

“He is not capable of it,” Aemond says, “but I…”

It is not a thought he dares to finish.

King Aegon wears the crown of the Conqueror, or so people say. She’s never seen a real crown. She’s seen paper ones worn by the mummers in the square, and she’s seen girls wearing wreaths of flowers on their heads for the festival of spring. They are only delicate things. Real crowns are made of gold, silver and steel. As Aemond’s eye flutters shut he looks divinely peaceful, but unsettled where his sapphire continues to stare at her. She pictures a crown of spring flowers fashioned from steel and imagines it upon her Prince’s brow.

Footsteps thud upon the stone floor, too close to the curtain, closer than anyone should dare to come near. She lifts her head as it’s drawn back.

It takes a moment for them all to realise what’s happening. Several faces stare at her– at Aemond. One of the men has silver hair, shorter and choppier than Aemond’s. He bares his teeth as he grins.

She sees a flash of fury in Aemond’s face as he turns to face them.

The silver haired man starts to laugh, the sound shrill and unpleasant. His friends do not join him. “Aemond the fierce!” he cries, pointing, staring.

Ameond parts himself from her instantly. He retreats as far as the edge of the bed, hunched over himself, his knees in the crooks of his elbows. He keeps his head hung, not looking at the men and the leader of their pack. He does not look at her, he does not look at anything. 

She sees the child he once was, frightened and confused. 

The man staggers towards the bed, clearly half out of his mind by the smell of wine drifting from him when he perches on the bed. On instinct she covers her breasts, devastated to realise her robe is out of reach.

“And here I thought you were as chaste as a fucking septon! You know,” he says to his companions, “I brought him here for his first too. And how far you’ve come, curled in the arms of a whore like a greenboy!”

There’s a bite to his– the King’s words, a cruelty that only makes Aemond shrink further into himself. Her heart aches for him, that she cannot help him. 

“Are you tired, brother? Did you fuck her like a hound?” An idea he emphasises with an impersonation of a hunting dog.

Aemond doesn’t move or speak.

Still in hysterics, Aegon turns his gaze to her, unashamedly lingering on her chest and her legs. “Hard luck for your squire, Ser Martyn,” he says, drawing his tongue over his lips, “as pretty as this one is, she is very much occupied.”

His laughter is the only sound in the chamber and it pierces her skull. 

Aemond starts to shift. Helplessly she reaches out her hand, unsure of what it is she intends to do. He doesn’t take it. He doesn’t even look at her.

He stands before the King and his companions. His humiliation has melted away. In the place of the boy is a man who speaks calmly and clearly. “Your squire is welcome to her. One whore is as good as another.”

He strides from the chamber and she is entirely forgotten.

Or so she wishes that were true. There are still four men in her midst. And she is still, for all the hours she has spent in Aemond’s company, a whore in a pleasure house. 

I've kinda given up on taglists, sorry <3

A/n: I'm quite happy with this! I've been playing with the idea in my head for a few weeks, then I saw episodes 2 and 3 and it just had to happen. Would be very cool if you wanted to let me know what you think :)