#because I do mention season of the wish spoilers

[haldenlith]

Okay, no, I'm not done ranting about my misgivings about Mara and Crow's writing as of late. I've been sitting here stewing, and I might as well shout into the void about it.

It's true, I've never liked Mara as a person, because she was condescending, arrogant, and manipulative, especially after Forsaken and scouring through everything lore wise, and seeing how she treated Uldren as just another tool in her toolkit, and was... basically abusive.

But I did think she was interesting as a character. My biggest problems with her weren't ever with her, per se, but with how the universe reacted to her. Or didn't react to her, rather. It seemed like everyone was always, all the time, blind to her actions. It was frustrating. Zavala was the only character, it seemed, that ever seemed leery of her. It was refreshing to have our Ghost yell at her when he did, even if we got shouted down by her afterwards. It was nice to see (well, read) Jolyon stand up to her. It was hella refreshing to have Ikora clap back at her, especially after Mara had spent so much time blaming The Guardian for Uldren's death, with the response of, "No Mara, you did that shit." It was nice to see the universe react to her. She finally felt, to me, like she was a part of the big web of characters and stories, and not just some detached side character. She felt... real, I guess? I still didn't like. Still didn't trust her. But still, she felt a part of everything now.

And sure, I hollered and flailed and was like "STAY AWAY FROM CROW", and was unsurprised when she was like "oh he's a blank slate, I can use that." And I even thought it was interesting when attempts at reconciliation started to happen, because we had the dilemma of "Is she genuinely trying to be a sister to Crow? Or is she just trying to yank him back into the fold, back into her toolbox?". Buuuut... then Season of the Seraph happened.

You see, her reaching out to Eramis felt... strange to me. As far as I could tell, she didn't really know Eramis, had no ties to her, anything. Eramis was just another Eliksni that fought against her and subsequently ended up in the Prison of Elders. Mara had no reason to reach out to her to be all "aren't you tired?" and trying to convince Eramis to "see reason." It all felt really out of character, to me. It'd be one thing if it was Eido or Mithrax, or even Crow (given his bleeding heart nature towards Eliksni), but Mara? Queen "I'm playing 4D Chess with Everyone Around Me"? That little point didn't sit right with me.

And ever since then, it's felt like they've been taking sandpaper to her character and filing off all the sharp points and edges. The most egregious was how apparently sad and broken up she was over Amanda Holliday's death and just like... ?????? WHY WOULD SHE CARE? (Then again, the writing during Defiance was hot garbage...) This is the same woman that led hundreds of her own people to their death without them knowing for the sake of a scheme to steal power from Oryx. She isn't going to care about some random human mechanic. The most I could see her doing is diplomatically, but coldly acknowledging it was a tragedy, but also reminding us that we've got shit to do.

And now she's all soft and sweet with Crow? After literal centuries of being cold to him? It makes no sense. It feels like they're trying extra hard to make her "likeable".

"But they're trying to reconcile the twins and their family arc." Okay, I get that. I hear you, but wouldn't it not only make more sense, but also be more interesting, if we had Mara having an issue of still trying to manipulate Crow and seeing him as a chess piece to move about the cosmic board, but also grappling with the hurt and confusion of "Why is my brother upset with me? He's supposed to love me. He's my brother. I am his sister. I'm only doing what's best for him." Like at this point, I feel like there should be a sort of cognitive dissonance or something that we, the player, can see, but perhaps Mara cannot.

It feels like they smoothed away her flaw of being unable to really relate and understand normal people for the sake of quickly fixing the Crow/Mara relationship. If it hadn't been for previous Mara-interactions with characters, I'd normally sit and wonder if Mara was being manipulative when she comes to Crow and is like "Oh I'm so sad and pained that you must endure Riven after what she did to you." It'd have been a situation of "oh is she being genuine, or is she being manipulative and saying what Crow wants to hear, just like Riven has pointed out?" But shit, now I honestly feel like they meant for her to be genuine.

AND SPEAKING OF CROW... We just spent a whole ass character arc of him reconciling with his past, with his flaws, with how he was used by Mara, and with how he was finally well aware that he was used and how destructive and abusive their sibling relationship was, and now he's just... suddenly cool with everything?

I recall him being very leery and distrusting of her. It's a point that was hammered on multiple times throughout his arc, along with the theme of him reconciling with his dark past (which was largely caused just as much by her as it was Riven). As I said in the other post, it would've made way more sense for Crow to be very cautious in response to Mara's mother-henning. "I understand why you're overprotective, BUT that's still not okay, and I still don't feel like I can trust you." And so on. Sure, there are signs of potential reconciliation there, but also signs of the self awareness he's attained, of realizing that sometimes, no matter how strong your bond is with family, maybe you simply can't trust them.

It just feels like whiplash to go from anger and distrust and perhaps even a little fear and realizing "hey my sister really, really, really fucked me up" to "yeah we've got this unbreakable bond and we're so cool now" in the span of two years-ish? Instead of real reconciliation between the siblings, it feels like history repeating itself and ignoring the whole point of his arc.

All that aside, it also feels like his character is getting very beaten into a box of tricks. As I said before, the amount of time they were spending on him, building him up, made him feel like he was going to play a very important role in the story. But now? He feels like the side character that's trotted out for misery and pain points and then shoved back into a box. We've yet to see him really come into his own, outside of the work he did during his introduction in Season of the Hunt. He feels SO VERY underutilized when you think about his skillset and abilities.

He has literal centuries of knowledge stashed in that dense skull of his. He's got some degree of mechanical genius, given that he built the crow-drones and the Wrathborn lures. He was the first person to successfully figure out how to get in AND OUT of The Black Garden, and live to tell the tale, with only the help of his pal Jolyon. No Light, no fancy Awoken space magic. He was Mara's fucking spy master, and it was at least insinuated that he was pretty good at it.

Aaaaaaaand... Crow's been just an errand boy and scout... this whole time. *sigh* It feels like they're afraid to let him do anything (they being the writers).

I just... their writing bugs me lately. It almost feels like they swapped writing teams and someone has to pick up where someone else left off, but without clear notes or anything, so they're just riffing it. Sort of. Sort of, because Mara just feels more and more sanitized, to me, and Crow is feeling minimized to being a man-pain party trick.

[laurrelise]

me when i meet someone for the first time and i want to say:

“have you ever watched the umbrella academy? it’s a great show, you really should. it’s about a dysfunctional family of childhood superheroes who underwent serious trauma from their emotionally absent father and grow up to be insanely dynamic and interesting individuals who have to save the world but just keep failing over and over. my favorite character is five, a 58 year-old man in the body of his 13 year-old self who can teleport and time travel but got it wrong the first time and had to survive for over 40 years as the last living human in an apocalyptic wasteland before being recruited by an organization that exists outside of time that keeps the space-time continuum in harmony with itself to become the most lethal assassin known to man for not only his learned talents but also his superhuman abilities. he cares about his family more than anything and sacrificed just about everything he’s ever had to save them time and time again to go under-appreciated by everyone around him. he has a witty charm to him, but just about zero social skills due to several decades which he spent alone but is so extremely smart that at times it’s even difficult to conceptualize just what spending time inside his brain would entail. i find his character so complex and interesting that i’m sure if motivated, i could write several essays on each of his arcs, virtues, and traits. the show is also very loved, especially by myself, due to its beautifully selected soundtrack with some of my favorite songs and such beautiful vocals from artists all throughout time including some of the cast members from the show itself. i especially love ‘stormy weather’ covered and recorded by emmy raver-lampman, featured in season one episode eight, as her character, allison hargreeves, drives through a rainstorm to help save her sister while she thinks about how her entire life has been a lie due to the curse that her abilities inevitably cast upon her. the song gives me chills every time i hear it, from its beautiful vintage-string sound to emmy’s phenomenal vocals, it’s truly an underrated classic that i believe should be talked about so much more. i also love ‘stay with me’, covered and recorded by mary j. blige, also featured in season one episode eight, as her character cha-cha, a ruthless time-traveling hitwoman, seeks unfair revenge on her work partner who chose humanity to go live out his last days with the love of his life. both of these songs push the limits of the musical talent and power these women hold. i could truly go on about the show for hours, but i absolutely can’t recommend it enough. the first two seasons are some of my favorite pieces of film i’ve ever had the pleasure of enjoying, as even though the show isn’t artistically-shot or critically acclaimed, it’s so well-written, produced, and acted that it creates a spark of excitement deep within me that my words simply can’t describe.”

… but i have to say “hi, i’m lauren. nice to meet you.”

[always-a-joyful-note]

You know, I find it incredibly funny that most villains get a backstory to show how tragic and sad and sympathetic they are. But the writers looked at Qiao Jin and went, "Oh, we can use his backstory to make him WORSE." In exchange, the Li twins got the brunt of the tragedy and man are they really going through it

[reiderwriter]

Hello there baby, are your parents bakers? Cause you're a cutie pie lol sorry couldn't resist the urge to flirt with my favorite writer💕How have you been? How was your day? I wish you a wonderful day and a lovely night💕

It's my first time here sending an ask but lately I've been thinking about shy!Spencer x flirty!reader, I just think is such a cute couple.

So if you're taking requests, I was thinking about early seasons Spencer completely falling for the reader and the way she's so flirty but sweet and kind, the way he'd be blushing hard at anything she says and how he'd like the way she's always touching him cause he felt cherised and desired.

It could be fluff or smut or both cause I can picture them going slow with the relationship but Spencer being eager to please her and show how much he loves everything about her.

You said about choosing a emoji, so can I be the 🐇anon?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Shy Spencer is the best because he's so dumb and silly and doesn't realize when people are attracted to him. I've said it before, but he's basically every nerdy main character in 00s romcoms that are "unattractive" because they wear glasses. I hope you enjoy the fic~♡

Warnings: mentions of case details, slight spoilers for upto s5

With a degree in law and a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen, you'd certainly found your calling in one of the FBI White Collar divisions. Putting away the sleazy bastards was easily one of the biggest perks of the job, but every coin had a second side, and yours was you actually had to interact with the cretins before you could take them down. 

You'd dealt with bribes, dinner invites, and sexual propositions more than a time or two, and had to remind yourself that kicking anyone of them clean in the balls was most likely a firing offense, if not legally off the table. 

The man in the case you were currently working - possibly Bill Hodges, possibly Daniel Brady, possibly so many more men - had been a typical white collar freak until he'd moved on to murder. And when you'd been so close to nailing his ass for fraud, too. 

You'd had no choice but to call in whatever unit it was that actually got to put bullets in the bastards, sure that you were going to be strong-armed out of months of work for the glory of taking down a spree killer. 

Instead, you got Spencer Reid, delivered freshly to your desk like a lamb to slaughter. 

“Sorry, you're the agent from the BAU?” You asked, raking your eyes across his body, smiling at his obvious discomfort with the attention. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid. I'm here for more information on the Hodges files.” 

You dusted your skirt off as you stood, moving around the desk to grab the file. You held it out to him but pulled it back when he reached for it.

“I'm sorry, you're really in the BAU?” An embarrassed look fell across his face, and you instantly felt shitty. 

“Do you want to see my credentials?” 

“No, I'm sorry, it's just - I wasn't expecting someone so…pretty?” 

The embarrassed look deepened to a flush, and you brightened at the sight. You weren't lying. He really was pretty, and you hoped your comment hadn't come off as patronizing. 

“You're adorable. Here's the file, I’ll be at your team briefing in half an hour. Spencer, right?” 

He nodded, finally waking up and taking the files as you pushed it against his chest, using the movement to step slightly closer. 

“I'll see you later then,” you trailed your look down, getting a good look at all of him before meeting his eyes again. “Save me a seat?” 

“I should… I'll, uh, go now. Thanks for the-” he stammered, pointing to the file, backing out of your space slowly, like an animal trying not to show its back to a predator. 

Unlike the long line of scumbags filling the halls and case files of your floor, Spencer was without bravado or ego. His lack of both meant that you were interested. You were very interested. 

Half an hour later, you practically sprinted to the 6th floor, bouncing up the stairs to the office where you'd take your meeting like a giddy school girl. 

“Hello, sorry, I'm not late, am I?” You asked, quietly opening the door and letting yourself in. 

“Agent Y/N, no, perfect timing, Penelope was just about to brief us on your case,” Hotch said, rising and giving your hand a firm shake. He looked around to find a seat to usher you into, but you quickly dropped yourself into the seat right beside Spencer Reid, grin deepening as he flushed and offered you an awkward yet endearing smile. 

Unconsciously, you shifted closer, shooting him your own smile before the meeting officially began, and you were forced to keep a straight, serious face. 

The entire case progressed in much the same way, with you doing everything you could to fluster Spencer Reid and him doing everything in his power to convince himself you were being friendly. 

“Spencer, do you have a phone number?” You asked after slipping out of the meeting, trailing him back to his desk. 

“Yeah, we have to keep connected for cases, so I have a phone.” 

“Great. Your number - what is it?” 

He rattled off the digital as you scribbled them down on a notepad. 

“And Hotch's number is-” 

“Oh, I won't need that. Thanks, Spencer.” You said waving as you left to slink back to your desk. You could hear him calling out behind you, confused. 

“Y/N… Y/N, we split up on cases often, if there's an incident and you need to contact us it's better to have all of the team members numbers,” he panted, jogging to catch up with your focused pace. 

“If I need to contact you, I'll take myself to Agent Garcia’s office and use her direct line,” you said, finally stopping yourself at the elevator and pressing the button. 

He caught up, and stopped abruptly next to you. 

“Oh… oh, yeah that's… that's efficient.” 

You stepped onto the elevator when it arrived, leaving Spencer hesitating whether or not to climb in himself, desperately wondering why you'd ask for his number then. 

“Goodbye, Doctor Reid,” you said, pressing the door close button and blowing him a kiss just before the doors blocked you from sight. 

To tell the truth, you'd had a lot of fun flirting with Spencer on the phone from Penelope’s office during the case. The woman was an inspiration, even if her flirting had a completely different purpose and meaning than your own. Her friendship with Derek Morgan was admirable, but you didn't want to be friends with Spencer Reid. 

“Hello, handsome, what can I do for you today?” You asked, picking up the phone and basking in the stammers that answered you down the line. 

“D-Do you need me to get Morgan for you?” He said, his voice treading lightly. 

“Unless Derek Morgan has, overnight, managed to turn into a 6’1 Doctor with a penchant for cardigans and leather satchels and an IQ of 187, then I am absolutely not looking for him. I have case details.” 

He brushed past your comment, but he kept the slight stammer through the conversation, right until you signed off. 

“Until next time, sexy.”

“Um, yeah… thanks…beautiful?” he signed off, and you guffawed in laughter even as Penelope stared wide-eyed in your direction, not believing her ears. 

“Please forgive our little test tube genius. We forgot to add flirting skills to his childhood curriculum, and now, alas, the poor thing doesn't know a damn thing.” 

He'd called back a few hours later, and you'd purred more compliments down the line, but this time with the team surrounding him as they closed in on your unsub. 

“Hello, this is beautiful speaking. How may I help you?” You giggled down the line, picking up the call after only a single ring. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, catching his breath awkwardly as he struggled to remember why it was you were needed. 

“So… um, like… Hotch has a question about the files you sent earlier. He needs Penelope to… do something as well.” 

You could almost see the awkward nod through the phone. 

“Great. Pass me over to Hotch, then, hot stuff.” 

You heard the tell-tale sound of Derek Morgan’s cackle in the background, and you couldn't help but let another giggle slip out. You were a gonner, and, hopefully, so was he. 

The case wrapped quickly after that, spree killing being a quick game of cat and mouse out of necessity. You weren't happy with three bodies, but it sure as hell was preferable to more. 

You greeted the BAU team at the jet hanger as they returned, reclaiming your fraud files for paperwork and using that simple chore as a reason to get close to Spencer again. 

“Good work out there, Doctor Reid.” 

“What, he's not hot stuff anymore now he's in front of you?” Emily Prentiss laughed, throwing her go bag onto her shoulder and trailing behind where you'd started strolling alongside Spencer. 

“Oh, he's still hot stuff. He's just hot stuff with three PhDs that just stopped a spree killer,” you said, sighing dreamily. “How do you do it?” 

“We were all there too, you know,” the other woman chuckled as you made it inside the building and to the elevator. 

“Yeah, well,” you said, taking a second to reach out and straighten out Spencer's skewed tie, smoothing his jacket and generally just touching him in whatever way you could, respectfully. 

You didn't even bother to finish your sentence, just leaning closer to his ears and whispering directly into them. 

“You're very cute when you're flustered, Doctor Reid.” 

You stepped away for a second while the rest of his team teased him, stepping to the back of the elevator to ascend to your floor while the others departed on theirs. 

They filed out one by one and you sent them off with a smile and a wave, signing in defeat as you realized there was no longer a reason for you to interact with the good doctor ever again. 

If you weren't so stupidly aware of him, you'd almost have missed the fact that Spencer didn't leave the elevator when his teammates did. He instead turned to you and, with the brightest red you'd seen on his face to date, stammered out half a sentence. 

“I.. Y/N, I was just… curious, if you, by any chance…” 

Your eyes widened in joy as you anticipated his question, silently begging him just to spit it out. 

“I was wondering, i-if you had… a boyfriend?” By the end of his sentence, even he seemed unsure of whether that was a question he should really be asking. 

You'd been throwing heart eyes at him for says, and he was asking if you were in a committed relationship. 

“No,” you said slightly breathily, as if your body were trying to expel all the anticipation it had stupidly built up. “No, I don't have a boyfriend, Spencer.”

“Great okay,” he smiled, a boyish grin if you'd ever seen one, before backtracking quickly.

“Well not great for you, great for me. Not that you can't be happy alone, I don't know how you feel about…romantic entanglements and I-I-I’m not saying that your life isn't,” he searched for the words with his hands, as of he could grasp them as a life line while he was sinking fast. “-Great without a boyfriend or anything like that, I'm just - really - pleased that position is currently… vacant?” 

“Spencer?” You said, feeling like a cat who got the cream as a smile twitched at your lips, pulling the corners up as you listened to him ramble. 

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend  or are you asking for a friend?” 

You'd meant the words as a joke  but he stood contemplating for a second. You pushed a hand against your mouth to suppress the childish squeal from popping out. 

“It would be a bit presumptuous to shoot straight for boyfriend, right? How about date ....partner?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from closing in on him then, practically cornering him in the elevator as the floors passed you by.

“Presumptuous would be thinking I could have a boyfriend when I've been begging you to stick your tongue down my throat with my eyes for the last half hour. I thought they taught you body language at the BAU?” 

“They teach us how to catch criminals, not how to see when someone is giving us…fuck me eyes, Y/N.” The curse left you a little dizzy - this was it, this was what you'd been trying to do all week, to get under his skin and get him to let his guard down so you could capture him. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm a little scandalized! I didn't know you swore. What a dirty mouth you have.” You reached up with both hands, letting your thumb on his lips before pretending to wipe something away at the corner of his mouth. You were in the perfect position to notice his throat bob as he swallowed.

The elevator pinged at your floor, and you left him behind you with one last swipe of your fingers at his chin. You weren't expecting him to follow, but he did.

“Y/N…please, Y/N…. Can we just…?” You relished the awkwardness in his voice as he trailed you again, a satisfied smile settling onto your face. 

You just kept walking. Or you did until you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you sideways into the nearest storage cupboard. 

You gasped as he pinned you to the wall, close not, but his eyes still hesitant on what to do next. 

“Spen-” He cut you off with his lips on yours, silencing you before you could get the final word. His lips were clumsy at first, but you felt hot under his touch  arching yourself up into him. His tongue pushed into your mouth as he found his stride, your hands tangling in his hair as you held on for dear life.

This was it. This was what you'd been waiting for. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of you gasping for breath to fill your suddenly empty lungs. 

“Was that….what… you wanted?” He panted, resting his head on yours. 

There were no words. It was what you wanted but now you wanted more, needed more. You settled for a quick nod as your tongue flamed, unable to say anything helpful. 

“Good. Great…” he removed his hands from you and scratched at the back of his neck, putting a more respectful distance between the two of you as he cleared his throat. 

“I'll just-” he pointed to the door and started making his way out. You sighed again, watching him walk away down the hall, his hair a mess, his tie askew, and a whole lot of your lipstick staining his lips. 

Surely, he'd notice by the time anyone else did. If not, you'd just effectively staked your claim on Doctor Spencer Reid, and you couldn't be happier about it.  

[nicksolemnlyswears]

hi! i just saw the ask you answered about leaving aemond out and i giggled.

if i may offer an idea, what about if reader finds out where aemond goes to find comfort (the brothel) and is upset because she thought differently of him but maybe he confesses what he actually does there (tittie suckin and therapy) and she offers aemond her own comfort. maybe reader looks more like their mother and it's exactly what aemond wants/needs. he's such a broken boy with horrible mommy issues.

this is not me at all telling you that you NEED to write a fic about this. i just had this idea jumbled around in my head and i don't know how to write it myself. 😂

thank you for your fics. they are truly wonderful. 💜

pairing: aemond targaryen x hightower!reader

word count: ~8.3k

warnings: 18+, cursing, spoilers of s2 of hotd, talks about brothels and prostitutes, fingering, p in v, lactation (milk play? i don't even know what i did), nipple play, slight mommy kink (or a lot depending how you see it), talks of infidelity, slight somno, riding

a/n: it's funny that this ask was sent cause i had something similar in mind. so this came super easily to me. i added some fire to the reader cause after ep 4 of hotd i was so angry at aemond (and still am). i can't believe he did that to aegon (he's my boy of the season) not to mention what he did to queen meleys and queen rhaenys. i'm not sure if i'd be able to forgive him. @heybank i hope this is somewhat like what you had in mind!

it came out a little longer than expect but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy! also aemond is stubborn in this fic but an equally stubborn reader and i love her for it. the reader and aegon are lowkey besties because i only want the best for him lol so don't mind that. i am ecstatic for the next episode and see the fall out of ep 4.

do you know the struggle i had to find aemond's whore's name. omg most difficult part of this oneshot.

after this fic i think i need to go to church and confess. i'm sure the priest will douse me in holy water and make me pray a hundred holy marys or something.

enjoy!!

It slipped out in the midst of their endless teasing and banter. The one secret Aemond never wished for you to find out. You're strong enough to know about the others; you recognize who he truly is at his core: an ambitious, envious man, but this one secret? This one he prayed you never knew about.

Aegon and you had been indulging in the sweet wine imported from High Garden. A delicacy that made your head fuzzy and your body loose. After finding you strolling all alone through the gardens, he insisted on drinking with you. If someone were to appease him by complaining about matters of the council, it would be you.

Those meetings drag on for hours on end on multiple occasions during the day as ravens fly in to share news of the brewing war. It robs you of your husband's attention and robs Aegon of his will to live as they tell him what to do and say, completely ignoring any input he might have—as idiotic as it may be.

You meet your distant cousin midway, complaining about how boring the meetings are and how uptight everyone is, including your husband. You offer the new King honest advice disguised as flippant comments, hoping he'll accept it even if he thinks of it as his own.

"It's not like I'm the only one who indulges in the pleasure of the street of silk. Every nobleman loves to get their cock wet by those whores," Aegon mumbles as a response to being reprimanded for his escapade late last night with his guards.

The charitable King paid for the villager's drinks and entertainment for the night. It was a prosperous night for the brothel. The 'ladies' will do just about anything to get coin. Who says the King doesn't aid his subordinates in need?

You stifle a laugh with the back of your hand and shake your head at him, "Yes, but you're the King now. It's not about laying with a commoner. It's about security. There are people who would do just about anything to gain Rhaenyra's favor, including hurting you, Aegon…"

Reasoning with Aegon is a challenge. His mind spins in ways you will never comprehend, but you try to keep your cousin safe while appeasing the council.

If Aegon values something, it's his life. If he knows there is danger out there, he will hold back, even if it's for a night or two. Her duty as his friend is to keep reminding him of all the danger lurking in the dark corners of the silk street.

"I suppose you're right, dear cousin. Guess we'll have to bring them here," he laughs as he thinks of the pandemonium it will cause. "I'll have Thalia and Margery or perhaps Dorothy. Hell, why limit myself? I'm the King! The guards can have their pick of the lot, Aemond will have his old reliable, and Lord Lannister can have the beautiful Sarah."

Aegon tips his goblet, drinking the last drops of wine to quench his dry mouth, failing to notice his slip-up.

Aemond's name sends a burning chill down your spine, and your mouth turns to cotton as it dries up. As you repeat Aegon's words, your heart promises to break out of your ribcage. Surely, you misunderstood his words.

"Aemond's old reliable?" You laugh to keep Aegon at ease. Grabbing the pitcher of wine to fill both of your cups, urging him to drink more and get his tongue looser. He won't remember your interrogation by morning.

"Ah yes, the first woman he fucked. Thanks to me, might I add. He still loves to visit her. I'd say her tits got him all enamored."

Just like the women in court, Aegon prattles on and on about everything he knows about Aemond and his whore. Including how he found him laying with her just last night—naked as the day he was born, blue sapphire glinting freely under the candlelight.

Blinding hot fury courses through your veins, lighting you up in flames from the inside out. Aegon will assume your reddening face and chest are from the wine and his vulgar words. There is no use in correcting him as you urge him to continue talking.

By night's end, you are equally as drunk as Aegon. The Guards escort you both to your respective chambers, watching amusedly how you argue with Aegon about whose dragon is strongest, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre. In reality, you were plotting which sibling would aid you in yelling dracarys in Aemond's direction.

You wish the alcohol would make you forget, but the sad truth is you will remember every single detail. The pounding headache you'll have in the morning will be a painful reminder of the secrets spilled over red wine.

For a fortnight, you sit and think about the valuable information Aegon shared with you. Anger burns ardently inside of you as it has nowhere to go. As a lady of the court, you're not allowed to train with the men, and as a Hightower, you have no dragon to channel that anger through.

If your fury were to be caused by any other reason, you'd find release in Aemond's arms. His aching cock stroking your drenched walls fervently. His sweaty skin sticking to yours. His fingers digging into your curves to find purchase. The low tone of his voice in your ear whispering words you'd never dare repeat and shamefully make you peak around him.

The thought makes you sick. How many times has he fucked her in such a way? Is it different? Does he let go and fuck her harder as he's not afraid she'll break?

Thinking is your worst enemy. As you imagine every possible scenario, your insecurities rise from their hiding spots. Does he love her? He laid bare with her; he must feel something if he allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable position.

The memory of the first time he took off his eyepatch in your presence pains you. So many conversations and stones of trust had to be set to get to that point, yet he did it with her. A common whore that dares ask for coin to please him with her presence.

You are different from the other ladies of the court who accept their husbands sleeping around with unknown women. You are jealous and territorial, something Aemond knew when you married. Under the eyes of the seven, he swore that his loyalties lay solely with you.

Alas, all men do is lie. Not even the noblest of men can be trusted. All you asked for was a good husband that would not embarrass you. How foolish of you to believe Aemond would be it.

Your fury grows and manifests as you observe Aemond and his whereabouts. It's hard to keep your anger at bay, but he's too busy plotting with Criston Cole to notice your withdrawing nature and emotional distance.

Visiting his quarters nearly every night tells you all you need to know. In that fortnight, you find him missing a multitude of times. There's no doubt he's in the brothel. Where else might he be deep into the night as the world sleeps?

When you ask about his location, the guards hesitate and stumble over their words. They try to save their necks by lying because the Prince continues to slip from their grasp time and time again. They are not as skillful at lying as your husband.

Having had enough, you wait for Aemond's return in his quarters. A goblet of wine is balanced between your fingers. The red liquid swirls along the rounded goblet, mimicking how your anger swirls around you.

You observe the map laid out on the wooden table. His plans are incredibly different from Aegon's. You pity the King as his most trusted advisor and Hand do as they please behind his back.

You've barely drank the wine. The goblet is merely a distraction from your fidgeting hands. You do not need the courage it provides; your anger fuels your intentions.

Old stone rumbles and sets behind you. Turning on your seat, you find Aemond emerging from one of Maegor's tunnels. This is how he sneaks out so damn easily.

"Wife," Aemond greets, keeping his composure, but his tense posture reveals shock. Your husband tends to wear a relaxed stance in your presence. You're the last person he expected to be waiting for him.

"Husband," you reply. The word is bitter on your tongue.

"What brings you in so late? You should be resting," Aemond speaks, taking off his cloak and approaching your seated figure.

Your eyes lazily move up to meet his. "Rest," you chuckle humorlessly. "I haven't been able to find rest in weeks."

"Does something ail you? Should I call a maester?" He asks, giving you a once over. Other than the dark circles around your eyes, there seems to be nothing out of place.

You're still you. Beautiful copper hair that easily identifies you as a Hightower flows down your back, and big brown eyes that resemble his mother's look back at him, although contempt has replaced the unconditional adoration that typically resides there.

His worry sickens you. His existence is an annoyance like a pebble in your shoe. You've harbored this anger for too long, and simple distaste can quickly transform into hate.

"Where were you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He's not going to get out of this. He must face the consequences of his actions. You will not live in bitterness while he runs around doing as he pleases.

"Conducting some business for the King." Aemond tilts his head, observing your posture and the set of your eyebrows. There's an electricity around you that shoots warning signs at him.

"Where. Were. You?"

"I'm afraid it is none of your business," Aemond says with a sharp exhale. He steps away to avoid your glaring gaze, unbuckling his sheath and setting it on one of the many desks that litter his room.

"I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other." The goblet's thud on the table is as loud as your unspoken fury. Wine splashes on the map like blood will spill in battle.

"There are always secrets. I have them. You have them," Aemond answers, leaning back on the desk.

Your hands smooth down the fabric of your dress as you stand. Finding his calculating gaze, you say, "So that's what you call your whore over at the silk street? A secret? I thought her name was Sylvi?"

Aemond freezes, and his muscles tense. You can't possibly know. He's entirely still as if the action would stop time and give him a chance to come up with an explanation, a lie. "I do not know what you speak of," the hesitancy of his voice unveils the cruel truth.

"Spare me the lies, and do not treat me like a naive maiden, Aemond. You know how much I loathe being made a fool," you snap loudly.

Aemond takes three long strides to reach you. Reacting, you take a step back but have nowhere to go. He doesn't touch you, but Aemond towers over you as he glares back. "Who told you? Was it Aegon?" He hisses.

"Please," you scoff. "The maids talk, the guards talk, husband. It was only a matter of time. Did you think I'd never find out? Are you truly that dense, Aemond?"

Your glare is sharp enough to cut him. He fell in love with that look when directed at others, but now that it's looking straight at him, he finds it's the one thing he might hate most.

All people around him have looked at him like that at some point. Aegon. Daemon. Jacaerys. Alicent. All except for his sweet sister and you, his beloved wife.

That look alone makes him regret stepping into the brothel many moons ago.

You should've never found out about Sylvi. It was meant to be a fleeting moment, but the war takes a toll on everyone, including Aemond.

Alicent's disapproving attitude towards him after Lucerys' incident led him to the whore more times than he can count as he sought the comfort Alicent never gave him and he craved.

"What is it that whore gives you that I do not?" You maintain eye contact as your chest presses against his. Your stubbornness will not let you back away from this argument. You deserve an answer.

You thought you were a good wife. Because of you, Aemond has two sons. You provided male heirs, a nobleman's dream. You warmed his bed whenever he asked and even when he didn't. You confided in him. You chose him.

"Talk, damn it. Your scheming plans won't get you out of this one," you yell, slamming your fists on his chest. Picking a fight is the only thing you have left. You want to scream at him until your voice turns raw.

"There is nothing to say. She's a quick fuck; that's all she is," Aemond seamlessly lies, grabbing your thundering fists. His thumb rubs over the back of your hands, hoping the calming gesture will tame your anger.

"A quick fuck? I could've been queen if I tolerated Aegon's quick fucks. The option was right there, and I chose you because I stupidly believed you'd make a better husband," you scream as your cheeks turn an unbelievable shade of red.

"Wife, please," Aemond pleads as you remind him.

The choice to wed you was not his to make. It was entirely yours. Each night, he prayed you'd choose to marry him. A woman of incredible smarts and hypnotizing beauty deserved to be with a man who acknowledged those attributes, not a blundering man like Aegon, who would only use her for her body.

"Do not touch me," you spit, tearing your wrists from his grasp and pushing him back with all the muster you could gather. "How dare you try to touch me after you've laid with her? After you fucked her? You repulse me."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you spew your words. Aemond stands there, taking it all of your fury—he deserves it. What you hate the most is that he does nothing to defend himself, as if all of your words are the maddening truth.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," Aemond swallows as tears fall down your cheeks.

"These tears do not stem from hurt. They are from humiliation. You embarrassed me, Aemond. Do you know how many hours I've spent praising you in front of the other ladies of the court, speaking about how perfect of a husband you've been these past two years?"

Your pride might be bigger than his, and he's done the worst thing he could ever do— wound it. Such a prideful woman will only forgive him if there's a good enough reason and with lots of begging.

At his silence, you push past him and reach for the door. "I've made my duty as your wife and given you two sons. Do not expect more from me. Go to your little whore and see if she'll perform the wifely duties you asked from me." With one more glance towards your husband, you slam the door.

It is no mystery why Aemond is in a mood from that night forward. Guards stand straighter with him around, Aegon's so-called friends keep quiet, and Criston Cole bears the brunt of it all as Aemond calls him to spar. Each passing day becomes more brutal.

You have stayed true to your word and kept your distance from Aemond. You've never felt as far away from him as when you sit by him during meals. You no longer place your hand on his thigh when Aegon throws jabs at him or smile his way when he says something worth admiring.

If you must address him regarding the children, you do so but with a straight face and without awaiting his answer. The Red Keep has turned grey as you no longer pull him through the halls between duties to find a dark corner to kiss or touch him. Fleeting moments he truly cherished.

He's losing you, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it. He's sure that you will never look at him the same if he comes clean with the truth. It will burn whatever thread is left of your marriage.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Alicent asks. They're in her quarters discussing one of the many plans to prepare for war, and yet he's not paying attention.

"Nothing," he says softly, eyeing the map in front of him. We should send our men to the east."

Alicent tilts her head and sits across from him, studying him closely. "Is this about your wife?"

The glint the young Hightower carries is missing. Her constant search for Aemond throughout the day has ceased abruptly, startling Alicent and Helaena. She rarely mentions him, only speaking about him when asked, and even then, her words have bite.

Alicen believed her son could do no wrong regarding his wife. Aemond adored you. He pinned after you from the moment it was announced that you were searching for a husband.

Alicent was hesitant at first. Marrying inside the family was a queer Targaryen custom, not a Hightower one, yet Otto insisted. Another Hightower in the Red Keep meant more power. He pushed you to marry Aegon while Aemond asked Alicent to consider him instead. She left it in your hands. It was only fair that you made the choice of who you shared your life with.

Aemond is silent momentarily, "She's upset with me." His words are short as he avoids talking about the subject.

"What did you do?" Alicent sighs disappointedly, leaning back on her chair. Why must her sons ruin all good things in their lives?

Alicent's reaction causes him to close back up just as quickly. Yes, it is his fault, but his mother's lack of faith is disheartening. Once upon a time, Aemond would've confided in his mother, but recent events have severed that trust. "My marital problems are none of your concern."

"Then how am I to help you fix this?" She asks in a knowing tone. Alicent feels the weight of her house on her shoulders. She's responsible for keeping everything together.

"I don't recall asking for your help, mother." Aemond ignores her judging eyes, moving the metal pieces around the map. He was here to make war plans, not talk about his feelings.

"Very well," Alicent clears her throat, moving farther away from her son. The gods are punishing as each one of her children drift away from her.

Unlike Aemond's mother, you take your duty as a mother quite seriously. Your children are all you have, and you cherish them equally. You refused a wet nurse when you birthed your first, and when the second followed a year after, you proceeded to do the same.

Feeding them from your breast brings a wave of emotion that is impossible to describe. The bond that forms between mother and child is strengthened by this natural action. Why do the other ladies in court not do the same? All they do is gossip and indulge in the luxuries of the keep. They have no responsibilities other than to please their husbands and care for their children.

The loud cries of your youngest filter through the door and echo throughout the halls of the keep. The babe has been incessantly crying for the past hour for no reason. Feeding and changing his nappy did nothing to ease his discomfort, leaving you overwhelmed. Nonetheless, you continue to soothe your child because if you didn't, what kind of mother would you be?

You ignore Aemond as he steps into your chambers, bouncing the eleven-month-old in your arms. He must've followed the cries. "There, there, Baelor," you coo, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing through the thin strands of pale silver hair.

The babe continues to sniffle and release weak cries. The poor thing is exhausted yet refuses to sleep. He hangs onto his mother's dress and hair, opening and closing his chubby fist.

Aemond approaches you, extending his hands to take him from you, "May I?"

You cannot refuse him. Baelor is his son, and while he seeks the pleasure of common whores you know he adores his sons.

Baelor is fuzzy and complains when he's taken away from your warm embrace, but he immediately settles in his father's hold when he recognizes him. The smell of Aemond's leather clothes offered him the comfort he was searching for.

Baelor missed his father.

"Clearly, you're his favorite," you murmur, settling down in the chaise that faces the fireplace. You're worse for wear. It's hard to find rest when questions remain unanswered, and you've lost the person you love most.

"Only till it's time to feed," Aemond says to lighten the mood between you.

You scoff, removing your jewelry and tossing it on the cushion beside you. "Great, I'm a glorified cow, only used to feed."

Aemond falters, his hold on his son tightening as he curls closer into Aemond's neck. Baelor's soft breaths tickle his neck. "That's not what I meant, wife."

You continue to stare into the fire as tears line your eyes. "I know," you whisper. It's been a difficult day.

Had you not been betrayed by Aemond, you would've sought his attention and spilled all the thoughts running through your mind so he could tell you you were being unreasonable.

He would reassure you that you're intelligent, beautiful, a wonderful mother, cunning, captivating, and a dream come to life.

You're punishing yourself. You decided to distance yourself, and came to the horrid realization that it is much harder than you bargained. You underestimated what three years of always being together would do to you.

Aemond catches on to your apprehension and puts a sleeping Baelor on the cradle the nursemaid left by your bed. He returns to your side and kneels on the floor right by your feet.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the first time since that night. It's been a long, difficult four weeks without you by his side. He misses all the little things you did for him.

All the check-ups throughout the day to make sure he's broken fast or slept well. Brushing his hair at night before he takes you to bed and shows you his gratitude. Your eyes meeting his across the room, suggesting he takes you elsewhere for a stolen private moment away from everyone else.

He misses you telling him about everything Baelor and Rhaegar got up to in the day and about every new milestone they hit, suggesting they are as healthy as they can be. He misses the late nights spent tangled together, talking about what the future holds for you both, the idea of having a baby girl for Rhaegar and Baelor to protect.

"What do you apologize for now?"

"For betraying your trust. I made an oath and broke it, and for that, I apologize. It is my biggest regret in life," Aemond says, reaching for your hand. "Please, forgive me."

"Then why do you continue to lie?" You whisper as a tear rolls down your cheeks.

"That's the only truth there is," Aemond whispers breathlessly. You give him a pitiful chuckle and tug your hand away from his despite wanting to hold onto it forever.

Your nose burns as more tears spill from your eyes. Insecurity wrapping you in its arms. "Please, do not lie. Why do you want me to believe you went to the brothel for a fleeting pleasure when I have always been here? Am I not good enough for you?"

Your anger has simmered down to a smoky sadness that envelops you. Aemond is lying to you when you're the person he's supposed to trust the most. If there is a chance of rebuilding this marriage, he must tell you the truth, even if it ruins you.

"Gods, you are everything I wanted and more, my sweet wife," Aemond speaks, cupping your face to wipe away your salty tears.

He's at a loss. He's hurt you, but the pain can be remedied if he speaks the truth. How can he allow you to believe you're not enough when you're the perfect woman. His endeavors in the street of silk stem from his own damaged soul, never yours.

"I am afraid," Aemond confesses, brushing one last tear with the pad of his thumb before he retreats his hands. You stare back at him, puzzled. "It is not what you believe. I have not laid with another woman since I married you."

"Then what is it, Aemond? Because my mind has conjured up the worst of scenarios."

"You will not think of me the same," he says, ashamed, hanging his head to avoid your hurt gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You ask aloud, and without awaiting his response, you continue to speak, "Until you work up the courage to tell me the truth, things will remain the same. No matter how much it hurts."

Standing, you leave Aemond kneeling on the floor to prepare for sleep. You glance over your shoulder and watch Aemond stare deep into the fire. When you step out of the privacy screen, he's gone.

It takes another week of agony for Aemond to come to a decision. He cannot bear having you so close yet so far away. He misses you and greatly underestimates how much happier you make him.

He hasn't been to the brothel since the night you confronted him. He barely spares it a thought nowadays. You are the only person wreaking havoc in his head.

He fucked up his marriage, and now he has to pay his dues, even if it means coming clean about his intentions with Sylvi. It was barely sexual, he hasn't fucked her since he married you, but he couldn't let go of the comfort she provided, and Alicent withdrew.

He's smart enough to know it's a farce. The women in the brothel will do just about anything if it means they are paid. But Aemond deluded himself into believing Sylvi cared about what he had to say and told her things he hadn't spoken to anyone else. She played the part well, giving advice freely and reassuring him with soft touches and softer words.

When the guard opens the door to Aemond's chambers, allowing you to enter, he instantly stands, approaching you to ask for your hand and kiss the back of it.

You raise an eyebrow at him but allow him nonetheless. The press of his lips to your skin sends a spark up your arm and down your spine.

"Wife," he greets, guiding you to sit.

"Aemond," you reply, not quite giving in to his sweet actions. Aemond summoned you with the promise of the truth. That is why you're here.

"How does the day find you?"

"Aemond, please," you plead. You came for the truth, and niceties won't do anything to soften the brunt of his words. Prolonging this won't help anyone.

"Very well," Aemond sighs, gesturing you to sit. His hands remain on his lap where he opens and closes them anxiously. "I met her when I was three and ten. Aegon forced me to the brothel because he thought it was time I…became a man."

You dare not speak as Aemond justifies his actions. You need to know the truth before your nerves consume you.

This is the tricky part of his story. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and continues, "She was far older than I was and offered something I lacked in the Keep. Comfort, solace, familiarity, whatever you want to call it. I continued to visit her throughout my youth, although it wasn't always to find release rather than someone to listen and give me what my mother never could."

Aemond avoids looking at you, afraid of what he might find written on your face. Perhaps disgust, shame, or disapproval.

He owed you the truth, so he spoke about all the details of this affair. How he liked the intimacy of lying naked with Sylvi, suckling at her breast. How she would hold him in her arms and touch him. The advice she would offer. The things they spoke about. How he rejects her when she makes any advances, thinking that's what he wants. He admits that he is completely vulnerable and free for those hours because she will have his side no matter what he says.

"Do you have feelings for her?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It's terrifying to think he might harbor feelings for her. Such intimate acts easily allow feelings to infiltrate one's being. "Aemond, look at me."

Hesitantly, Aemond meets your eyes. Your face is blank, devoid of emotion that may indicate what you now think of him.

"No, and I never will," Aemond says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He chooses his words carefully, "She was an escape, someone to listen to the tragedy that was my life. She knew what I wanted and gave it unsolicited. I know it is not real, wife, but I was foolish enough to seek more."

The emotion that surfaces in your face is not directed at him; instead, it reflects the insecurities you have about yourself. "Did you not think I could give you what she did and actually mean it?"

Insecurities of his own rise up and make themselves shown, "I thought you would see me as a weaker man."

You're both so young with so much to learn, yet if there is one thing you're certain about, it's the love you share. That love would never make you see Aemond as weak; it would transform that quality he refers to as weak into something totally different and positive.

"You are not weak but a fool," you shake your head, reaching for him. It is your turn to cup his face to force him to focus only on you. "I know of those feelings you hide firmly, Aemond. I spent most of my childhood here in King's Landing. I watched while Aegon and the Strong boys teased you. I was here when you returned from Driftmark without an eye. I heard your cries of pain. You come off as this stoic man to everyone else, the fierce Aemond, but I know the real you."

"I am ashamed." Aemond is truthful. No more lies weight his beating heart.

"Do you swear to never look for her again? That you will come to me instead?"

"I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the seven. I swear it by my life," Aemond promises. "Will you return to me, wife?" He asks hopefully, placing his hands over yours, afraid your touch will leave him.

"Yes, husband," you nod, pressing your forehead against his.

Your lips find his as the last word you speak is uttered. It's been far too long, and his dragon blood is calling for you. Aemond is quick to react, moving his lips desperately against yours and pulling you to his lap.

He comes to you late at night once there are no more council calls or responsibilities to tend to. It's around that time when he has nothing to busy himself with, and the ache in his chest makes itself known.

It's a constant reminder that he is far from invincible. Pain and hurt live within him, ready to resurface at the most unexpected times.

"Husband." You greet him with a bright smile when he steps into your chambers.

"Wife," he speaks quietly, standing uncomfortably by your door. While he's agreed to come to you in his times of need, Aemond is unsure how to approach the situation.

"What is the matter?" A pout adorns your lips as you walk over to him. It's genuine concern.

Aemond stiffens when you approach him, tilting your head to assess him. You wrap your arms around his waist, searching for his gaze.

"Aemond?" You call to him softly.

"Please," he whispers with shaking hands that he places on your hips. The expensive material of your night shift is soft against his palms.

The tone of his voice and the reserved behavior tell you what he's asking for. You nod wordlessly and grab his hand, guiding him to your bed.

This is unlike those moments when passion takes over and desperate need forces you to tug and tear his clothes away. With patience and delicate fingers, you calmly help him undress.

Unbuckling the clasps of his leather doublet, you slide it down his arms and throw it to the side. The tunic that covers his chest comes off next, exposing the strong panels of his abdomen and the ropes of muscle of his arms. All a result of his extensive training.

Featherlight touches to his skin make his breath hitch as they slide down to his breeches, where you agilely untie the laces. You don't meet his eyes as you do so, giving him some resemblance of modesty, but Aemond watches intently how you treat him with such care.

You gently push him to sit on the bed, where you kneel to take off his boots and socks. Aemond allows his breeches to fall to the ground, leaving him completely naked, except for the eyepatch he wears like armor.

It protects him from the disgusted expressions people shoot him with because of the deformity he acquired as a child.

It never stops hurting.

You've never been repulsed by his missing eye. On the contrary, you're fascinated by the scar and the sapphire embedded in the empty socket.

Reaching around his head, you unclasp the leather and place the eyepatch with the rest of his clothing. You offer him a delicate smile while placing your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it.

Your touch on his raised scar eases the pain.

Withdrawing from him, you tug in the lacing of your night shift and shrug it off your shoulders to uncover your body. You had promised to offer him the same care she did in that wretched place.

The bed is covered by pillows and blankets to protect you from the cold of the incoming winter, and you mentally thank the maids for preparing the fire before they left you to rest. You lie over the furs, extending your hand towards Aemond to welcome him in.

Aemond's timidness is present, but he pushes it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and settles across your lap. Your skin is soft and warm against his, and your soft curves, molded to accommodate his children, bring him comfort.

As you brush through his hair with your fingers, you gently untie the band holding half of his hair up. You massage the silver tresses, his scalp prickling from the release of tension. He hums quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair.

"What troubles you, my Prince?" You finally ask.

Aemond's head rests on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbones. One of your hands rests upon his back, drawing figures across the expanse of it, feeling every bump and curve of his spine and muscles. The other grasps his hand, pulling it to your lips to press a reassuring kiss to the palm of it.

"That title. Prince." He murmurs sadly, taking a deep breath.

That familiar scent of oils invades his senses. It's a smell he remembers from his childhood when Alicent still cared for him. In turn, his body relaxes, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"It is a stepping stone in the hierarchy," you reply, recognizing what he implies. Aegon does not have what it takes to rule a kingdom, while Aemond years to sit on the throne.

Aemond reaches up to grasp at a strand of copper hair. The same shade as his mothers. He twists it around his finger while shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I thought all of my achievements would be more fruitful," he ponders.

It seems that ruling a kingdom falls on the eldest male heir, even if they are not fit to rule. Aegon sits on the throne, yet the rest of the council rules on his behalf. This puts the Targaryen name to shame; the fool barely speaks High Valyrian.

"Patience is key. Aegon shows no signs of changing. He will be his own downfall," you respond thoughtfully. You hate thinking about Aegon in such a way, but it's the truth. He wants to prove himself so badly but goes about it all the wrong way.

Copper hair leads to naked skin the same shade as his mother's, and for once, he can imagine himself in his mother's embrace. It brings tears to his eyes as he curls further into you, and his nose brushes against your skin.

With the pillows propping you up and Aemond curled on your lap, you press a kiss to the crown of his head. Your touch runs all over his skin, from his face to his feet.

Aemond continues to speak his mind, and you offer the perfect responses to his dilemmas, calming him when his emotions get the best of him and tears spill from his eyes.

He should've come to you sooner. You're a high-born lady who knows much more about life in court. There were always warning signs with Sylvi. She tried to manipulate him into thinking about the common folk and their ailments more than once. She would never understand that while House Targaryen is at war, there is no space to think about the well-being of its subordinates.

When silence ensues, Aemond allows himself to look up at you. You're serene as you hold him close to your body without an ounce of impatience. The resemblance to his mother is there, but he got something much better.

He got a woman who loves him unconditionally, flaws and all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Aemond closes his eyes and melts further into your touch. You hug him close and whisper your affections. This is how it was always meant to be.

That night, Aemond sleeps in your chambers. It would be wrong for him to leave after you've treated him with such tenderness. You are no simple whore from the street of silk. You are his wife, and as such, you are meant to be treated with utmost respect. Something he had failed to do but no more.

Breathy whines, wake him before the sun rises. Recognizing your voice, he wakes, looking at his surroundings for any danger. When you whine once more, he glances over at you.

You squirm in your sleep, seemingly uncomfortable. Something bothers you, but your exhaustion prevents you from waking. One of your hands reaches for your chest, and another whine spills from your lips.

Aemond's eye is drawn to the action. He reaches for the sheet covering your body and pulls on it to find the cause of your discomfort. His breath hitches, and his cock aches.

Your breasts are swollen and tender from being filled to their capacity, causing beads of milk to leak from the stiff peaks of your nipples.

Aemond briefly remembers you mentioning how Baelor has been fuzzy lately, and Rhaegar is getting older and doesn't seek you as often for food, yet you continue to produce copious amounts of milk. He has been blessed with a perfect wife and an excellent mother who produces enough sustenance for his children.

Aemond's pointer finger traces a path down your neck to your left breast. They are calling to him as his finger follows the curve of your breast up to your puffy areola and tip of your nipple. A slight press to the taught skin prompts more fluid to leak down your sides, and you hiss in discomfort.

Bringing his finger up to his lips, he licks the whitish liquid. Perhaps it's a mistake, as he's left wanting more. Aemond uncovers the top half of your naked body and leans over your chest. With one look towards your beautiful face, he wraps his lips around the plush flesh of your breast.A surge of liquid fills his mouth.

You have the sweetest milk he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. Aemond moans at the saccharine taste. It is so much better than the farce he had in the brothel. This milk comes from his wife, who nurtures his healthy sons.

A loud, sultry moan spills from your lips as some of the pressure is alleviated. You're now between sleep and awareness. Your hand cradling the back of Aemond's head.

Aemond's cock is painfully hard as it presses against your thigh. He's been driven into a frenzy, your milk serving as an aphrodisiac. His hand brushes against your inner thigh to answer a rising question.

Careful fingers find your wet slit, proving his theory right. He's not the only depraved person in the room. Your body is responsive to him even in altered states of consciousness.

Your cunt is absolutely drenched, making it so easy for Aemond to push a finger in. It's enough to fully wake you from your slumber. "Ah, Aemond." You throw your head back in pleasure.

It takes you a second to take in the entirety of Aemond's actions. The pleasure coursing through you, overwhelming your senses. A loud moan tears through your throat at the realization that Aemond is not simply teasing your breasts. Aemond feasts on your aching tits.

"Have your fill, my prince," you beg as that ache in your chest is pleasingly soothed.

Aemond is eager and rough. The light stubble of his jaw sends a current of electricity down to your cunt where you clench around his fingers.

"My Aemond, good boy." He responds to the praise why sliding another finger into your tight cunny. The slick sound of your arousal accompanies the suckling of his lips.

You squeeze your other breast to alleviate the tightening discomfort and drops fall on your hand. Drawn to it, Aemond switches, and you squeal as his teeth scrape the sensitive skin of your nipple.

Aemond ruts into your thigh as he quickens the pace of his fingers intruding on your cunny to part through your walls. The vibration of his quiet moans stimulates your swollen peaks.

If this is not heaven, he doesn't wish for it.

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair when you arch your back to offer yourself to him. His eye meets your hooded gaze and sets himself to give you whatever you please. His thumb circles your pearl expertly, and he curls his digits to hit your spot more firmly.

You cry in pleasure with your hips, riding his fingers until you come with a shudder and his name on your lips. Your walls clamp down on his fingers hard enough it is hard for him to retrieve them.

Aemond rises from your chest and pinches your cheeks with his fingers that remain coated with your slick, prompting your mouth to open. A stream of your milk falls from his mouth to yours as he gives you a sweet taste.

You believe another orgasm rips through your body as his lips press against yours to share a sweet tasting kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, allowing you the pleasure of tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Please," you beg for him, spreading your legs wantonly.

One to indulge his wife in all pleasures, Aemond pulls you on top of him, "Take what you desire."

His cock is fully erect and begging for attention. The tip is swollen and flushed a deep pink as it leaks pre that beads down his shaft.

Aemond acknowledges you've reached your limit when his beautiful wife, who adores worshipping his cock on her knees, grabs his length and sinks onto him without a preamble.

"Go on, my love, you can take it," Aemond hisses as you try to lower yourself to take all of him. His hands grip your hips tightly, urging you on. He swears your walls continue to contract from your previous peak.

"Aemond, husband," you moan lewdly. Your hips tentatively begin bouncing on him, and your tits follow to Aemond's delight.

He's mesmerized by them and how they continue to leak. Aemond mouths one more aggressively, teasing your nipple with his tongue, nipping at the surrounding flesh to leave his mark. His hand massages the other, allowing droplets to fall down your abdomen and onto your cunt.

"My perfect wife, such a good mother," Aemond mutters, praising you, "Pretty tits always full and her cunny always wet."

You hold onto Aemond's strong shoulders, your nails leaving marks across his back. Your hips grind on him deliciously as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

"Aemond, please," you beg, quickening your pace. You're on the verge of yet another delicious peak. "I want another." You'll have as many as he wants as long as he treats you with this much attention.

Aemond kisses up your neck and growls in your ear, "I shall give you as many as you'd like."

Swiftly, he turns you so your back is to the bed. He hikes your thighs up around his waist and snaps his hips fiercely. You first the bedsheets around you as Aemond holds bruisingly against your hips and thighs.

He's close to his own peak as well. Aemond manages to hold back because of all the attention he's giving your tits, but his cock cannot take anymore, especially with how deliciously your walls wrap around him.

Aemond admires his perfect wife. Your hair fans out on the pillows, and your facial expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as you come once more. Your breasts are less swollen, but your stiff peaks remain puffy and flushed from his attention. Your cunt chokes his cock, knowing exactly what it takes to please him.

His rhythmic thrusting begins to falter, so with a couple more jerks of his hips and a groan, he paints your insides white. "There we go, all for you."

"Thank you," you lilt, biting your lip at the sensation of being filled.

You giggle when he leans down to kiss all over your face, a laugh of his own reaching your ears.

The door creaking open wakes you up, bringing the sheets to your chest, you sit up. Aemond lets the bedsheet fall to his lap, ready to scold whoever dares interrupt his time with his wife.

A small blonde head peaks in, and a big grin unleashes on its lips when he sees his parents. Young Rhaegar toddles into the room, and his head is barely seen as he stands on the edge of the bed. His tiny hands try to grasp the edge, but he's still too small to get himself up.

Aemond reaches over to bring him up, pressing a kiss on his head, but Rhaegar happily crawls over Aemond and falls into your waiting arms.

Aemond's exposed sapphire earns no reaction. In fact, the eyepatch tends to catch his son's attention more. Aemond ensured that when his sons came into this world, he would greet them as he truly is.

You pepper kisses all over Rhaegar's face, and he giggles, squirming on your lap. While Baelor favored his father, Rhaegar was entirely yours. "What are you doing here, little dragon?" You ask him sweetly.

The nursemaid stepping through the open door answers your question, "Prince Aemond, Lady Hightower. My apologies, he scurried away before I could-"

"It is alright. You may leave us," Aemond says, waving his hand to dismiss her. The young girl bows her head, hiding her blushing cheeks, and scurries away without saying another word, aware of the compromising position of the Prince and his wife.

"My sweetest, why are you up so early?" You coo, threading your fingers through his messy hair that sticks up in all directions.

Rhaegar hides his face on your chest, mumbling, "Missed you."

You gasp dramatically, facing the young boy with a surprised expression. "You missed me? I missed you!" Your son laughs and presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

"What about me, little dragon?" Aemond asks, tickling his belly.

Rhaegar cutely shakes his head with a mischievous smile, squealing loudly when Aemond reaches for him and takes him into his own arms to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar's childlike laugh pierces the air as he asks for your help.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Aemond grumbles, playfully glaring at his son as he continues to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar repeats, pushing Aemond's hands away and waiting for you to scold Aemond or something.

You watch the interaction with a wide smile. It's nice to see Aemond this calm. "Give me back, my little dragon, or there are no more kisses for you," you threaten Aemond with a furrow of your eyebrows and a pout. Aemond abruptly stops and loosens his hold on the toddler.

Rhaegar laughs and throws himself in your arms, hugging your neck. His giggles never cease. Aemond winks at you and pulls you to lie on his chest.

"How about we go see Vhagar later?" Aemond asks Rhaegar who calmed down to a drowsy state. It's still very early for him to have been up. He must've had a bad dream.

"Sunfyre?" Rhaegar gasps, looking up at his father. Aemond rolls his eyes and nods. He guesses he can invite Aegon so his son can see the golden dragon.

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" You ask him amusedly, although you agree. Sunfyre is a beautiful dragon and much friendlier than Vhagar.

Rhaegar nods enthusiastically as he babbles about the pretty dragon. You lay with your back to Aemond's chest as he envelops you both with his arms.

At that moment, Aemond realizes he feels fulfilled with his little family by his side.

it was not part of the plan to let this oneshot be this long. there is something about the complexity of aemond's character that doesn't let me write something brief.

nonetheless this was a super fun oneshot to write. it took me the whole week because i was so busy but i had been thinking about it nonstop. i think i overdid it with the lactation part but oh well!

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept aemond's sapphire, rhaenyra's crown, criston cole slander, emojis, words of encouragement, a lot of praise, virtual hugs and gushing about sunfyre and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

-nikki 🖤

[webslinger-holland]

All Grown Up | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: Many years after Tantiss and after having settled down in Pabu, Hunter struggles to watch his eldest to go off and join the rebellion. He returns home to the comfort of family awaiting him.

Warning: SPOILERS FROM SEASON 3 FINALE BELOW THE CUT, Omega refers to the reader as her mum (though not biological), mentions of old age, other children are briefly mentioned, slightly suggestive, and just good old fashioned tears

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.8k

The gleam of the  silvery moon pierced through the dark blue skyline. The cool summer breeze swept through the entirety of the island, caressing wooden chimes hanging outside homes. The crickets were out singing songs to each other. The warm yellow light twinkled in the homes of many who where still awake during the late hours of the night.

With one last look of the island, Omega began making her way across the sandy beaches. She listened to the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shoreline; her shoes leaving prints behind in the sand. A few light breezes swept the loose strands of hair out of her face. She made her way into the lower caves of the island.

Coming up over the rocks, Omega's gaze landed on the spot in which her ship was docked. She neared one of the many generators in the cave, kneeling down and flicking the switch on. The warm light that radiated from the generator brightened her face and signaled the other generators to illuminate the rest of the cave.

A low bark sounded near one of the other generators. She lifted her head and smiled to herself, knowing that it was Batcher calling out to her. She briefly spotted another figure looming and sitting beside the old lurca hound, causing her heart to clench slightly in her chest.

Slowly, Omega made her way over to the both of them. The gangplank of her ship opened to reveal Gonky waiting for her. She rounded the side of the rocks, coming up behind the two.

"Thought you could just sneak off?" Hunter questioned as he stared off towards the entrance of the cave. The corners of his lips tugged into a gentle smile. "Time hasn't dulled all my senses," Hunter reminded her.

She lowered herself to sit down right beside him, watching him carefully with a hint of nervousness behind her eyes. She didn't say anything at first, but she had a feeling he was about to give her one of his famous talks. Sure enough, Omega was right about that.

"Your mother would have woken up worried sick about you, wondering where you’d gone off to this time," Hunter stated. His eyes focused on his hands that where clasped together.

"This shouldn't be a surprise. I talked with mum about this a lot," Omega defended herself.

Her words pained him slightly. In the more recent years, Omega had found herself seeking the advice of her mother more often than him. It had a lot to do with her age; having questions about womanhood that her mother was more than willing to explain. If Omega had gone to Hunter, the conversation would have just turned more awkward than anything. And sometimes, she was afraid to ask him in fear that he'd shoot her down pointblank.

It wasn't a surprise because he had heard some of their conversations late at night when the others had gone to bed. He recalled one conversation that happened just last week. She'd said something along the lines of: "Mum? What were the Clone Wars like?" Her mother proceeded to tell her what it was like to be a field medic during the height of the war. That, despite all the bad things, Y/n had found her purpose in life and wanted to help the war cause by tending to soldiers on the field.

Hunter just really wished she hadn't said that because they wouldn't be here now if she had.

"The Rebellion needs pilots now more than ever," Omega told him. She always had that drive to help others; she was so much like her mother in that way. "I made my choice, Hunter. I want to do more."

"And we want to keep you safe," Hunter countered. He finally turned to look at her. The worry was so evident behind those beaming eyes.

His strong sense of overprotectiveness was starting to show. It almost reminded her of what he used to be like when she was much younger: how he never wanted her to go on missions and how he'd force her to stay behind on the ship. She appreciated his concern, but it wasn't needed now.

"You have, but I'm not a kid anymore." Omega weakly smiled at him. She placed her hand on her chest. "You don't have to worry about me."

He wasn't satisfied with this, slowly turning away once again. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground. She continued to watch his movements carefully, wondering what he was thinking about in that moment.

"You're our kid, Omega. You always will be," Hunter said plainly. She smiled at this.

"You’ve got your own kids to worry about now," Omega chuckled slightly. She thought about her three siblings, figuring that they'd be fast sleep in their beds right about now and dreaming about things far beyond this galaxy.

"And you all make me feel like an old man," Hunter huffed with a playful smile.

"Well, you kinda are." Omega teased him by bumping into his shoulder.

When he turned his head towards the light, Omega was able to see just how much time had changed his appearance. His beard had grown out and his hair was sprinkled with grey. She saw the crows feet that bunched around his eyes when he smiled.

He was frail too. He wasn't able to play with his kids as much since last summer when he injured his back. He just moved a little slower now and wasn't able to do any heavy work around the house. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since they settled on Pabu all those years ago.

Pabu was home. Omega had grown up here. His other kids were born on the island. His family and his life was here. He wanted nothing more than to keep it that way. But Omega was moving onto newer things.

"Hunter," Omega sighed. She scooted a little closer to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You've all fought enough. This...is my fight. I'm ready."

Slowly, Omega rose to stand to her feet. He watched her move away from him with so much worry and concern in his eyes. He now realized that she wasn't his little girl anymore. She was all grown up and ready to have adventures of her own.

"Yeah. I know you are," Hunter sighed to himself. His lips curved into a soft smile. He shook his head slightly. "But I'm not."

Now, Hunter stood to his feet in a slow manner. His strength wasn't like it used to be. She didn't hesitate to step forward and embrace him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against her shoulder. When they pulled away, Omega placed her hands on his shoulders. She sent him a warm encouraging smile.

"Say goodbye to the others for me," Omega requested. She didn't need to give names because he knew she was talking about her brothers, her siblings, and her mother. He gave a single nod of the head before gesturing towards her ship.

"Off you go," Hunter had finally let her go.

By the time Hunter had gotten home, he was little surprised to see one of the lights on from his view on the street. He climbed the steps of the porch, opening the door as quietly as possible so he didn't wake the kids. His gaze landed on the familiar figure sitting in one of the living room chairs. He closed the door behind him.

"Hey," Hunter called out softly. He took a few strides towards her, kneeling down beside the armchair. He gently grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. "How come you're still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Y/n scolded him slightly. There was a twinge of annoyance in the tone of her voice. "I wake up to an empty bed and a daughter missing."

"Ah, yes. About that..." Hunter's voice trailed off. He quickly avoided her gaze and wondered how he was going to break the news to his wife. But his silence gave it away.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Y/n said rather sorrowfully.

He nodded silently in response. He fought against the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes, but the light from the lamp illuminated them perfectly. She went to cup his cheek and sent him a weak smile.

"It was bound to happen some day," Y/n tried to reason with him. She shook her head at the notion. "She couldn't stay your little girl forever."

"No," Hunter agreed. "She couldn't. She's all grown up now."

Ever so slowly, Hunter rose to his feet alongside her. He took her spot in the chair before gently guiding her down to sit in his lap. He went to drape her legs over his lap and have them hang over the side of the chair. She wrapped an arm around his neck and leaned down to rest her head against his shoulder. He cradled her gently in his grasp.

The two parent's gazes fell on the wall where each of their children's height had been marked over the years to show their growth. There were countless tallies and dates, including both of his brothers' and the lurca hound's. They studied each mark as a reminder of how much each of their kids had grown over the years.

But Hunter's sights were stuck on a rather faded mark on the wall. He remembered the day like it was only yesterday. He loved seeing how excited Omega was to have her height marked on the wall; how Omega tried to stand as tall as she could while he used a pencil to mark it. Then, seeing over the years, her tallies had grown until she was basically his height.

"They're all growing up so fast," Y/n said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Maybe it's our sign to have another one," Hunter joked. She sent him a warning glare so he pressed a little further. "Come on. The littlest ones about five years old now. We're due for another."

"I told you I am done having babies. We've had three; that's a good number," Y/n swiftly shut down the idea of having another little one. She could think of a million reasons why that wouldn't pan out great. "We're getting too old for this. And with your bad back..."

"I know. I know. You don't have to remind me," Hunter chuckled softly, just loving how flustered she had gotten while talking about having a kid again. He pressed a gentle kiss to her check to calm her nerves.

The two of them swayed slightly in the rocking chair, basking in each other's presence. Their eyes set on the wall. The house's memories over the years came flooding back to them. The children's laughter was an ever present sound that brought the purest form of joy.

Their eldest daughter was all grown up now and out of the house. They remembered every single memory they made with her over the course of the past couple years. She had drastically changed their lives, but all for the better. And they wouldn't change a single thing.

LITERALLY AM OBSESSED WITH THAT FINAL SCENE OF OMEGA AND HUNTER. HAD TO WRITE MY OWN VERSION AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

[riviuus]

my friend who has never read percy jackson but really likes the show (she will borrow my books after the first season ends hhaha) told me about her theories (at mcdonalds for all the nico stans out here) and i smiled and nodded my way through them

here are the best ones

- there is no traitor (i wish bro i wish)

- percabeth will happen (no shit sherlock , i didnt say that bc i dont spoiler shit but damn bro)

- hermes will sing (she is a theater kid especially musicals especially hamilton...)

- clarisse x luke ????? (oh damn like oooooohhhh damn he basically kills her gf so damnn)

- luke is hot ( not a theory but she did mention it quite alot)

- luke isnt the traitor because it would be too sad (and yes she doesnt know rick like we do, it is toooo sad)

- percy will get into MANY MANY MANY near death scenarios (yeah but plot armour soooo, but yeah he is the main character so duh)

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do prompts by starbabytae 14, 19, and 21 for Aemond Targaryen?

Aemond has gone FERAL in Season 2... so I'm ready. S2 E4 has definitely given me ideas. End is a bit awkward as I was unsure how exactly to fit it with the prompts.

‼️POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR HOTD SEASON 2 - ALTERNATE TAKE ON THE EVENTS OF S2 E4‼️

Prompts Here

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen Prompts 14, 19, 21

“I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.”

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Swearing, Stalking, Mature themes, Typical ASOIAF themes, Potential Targcest (You replace Helaena), Manipulation, Sadism, Threats, Possessive behavior/Jealousy, Murder, Blood mention, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Aemond had gotten used to the fact he'd be overlooked. He wasn't king due to being born after his brother Aegon. He tried to settle with simply being a warrior for his king on top of Vhagar.

But he still hated it all the same.

Aegon, the whiny brat of a king and brother, always got what he wanted because he was older. As king he had all the say. Meanwhile Aemond was left envious and irritated at how incompetent his brother was as king.

Aemond studied like the good prince he is, he's even better in battle. He's a better tactician and doesn't sleep around like his whore of a brother. He doesn't understand. Why must Aegon be king simply because he's older.

What makes it worse? Aegon also got his first and only love.

You were betrothed and married to Aegon. Aemond had loved you since you both were kids, yet the younger prince was forced to watch as you married his brother. Not only that... but he had to witness the babes you bore for him.

The thought still makes Aemond seethe. He's tired of allowing Aegon, an entitled brat, get what he's always wanted. Aemond always thought he'd make the better king... he's always followed his duties...

He wishes you and him were betrothed instead of Aegon.

While you may not belong to him, Aemond still yearns for you. For years he's loved you. Even when you were married to Aegon he still fantasizes about how it would feel to have you as his.

Aemond always watched you from afar, swearing himself as your protector. On top of Vhagar he felt he was the one making decisions for this war. He's the one making plans while Aegon flirts with other women.

Aemond can tell you aren't happy with Aegon... Aemond could treat you so much better.

Aemond wasn't expecting the opportunity to act on his desires ever. At first he was just going to take Criston Cole to take down Rook's Rest along with Rhaenys and Meleys. Vhagar has been so eager for a fight.

Then he saw Aegon swoop in on Sunfyre... making him pause.

He should be ashamed... but the plan was too perfect.

It was too easy to swoop in on Vhagar when Sunfyre and Meleys were busy. Aemond just had to say one word and the whole situation would look like a freak accident. The thought of finally taking what he deserved makes him grin.

"Dracarys!"

The command is short, simple, but executed with a plume of fire from Vhagar as both smaller dragons are struck down.

Aemond took sadistic delight in taking out both riders. The fire from Vhagar was enough to make Aegon and Sunfyre crash down. However, it took some stealth tactics to bite the neck of Meleys to make the red queen fall with her rider.

By the end of the fighting, Aemond found himself standing in front of his burned brother on the ground. His brother barely moved, yet his breathing was faint. Aemond barely hesitated when he picked up his brother's dagger and hovered it over his burned brother's chest.

"I will be the one to make her happy, brother." Aemond whispers, not caring if Aegon even heard or not. "I will be king, I will win this war, and I'll do it much better than you did."

It's then Aemond does the finishing blow, tucking the dagger away before leaving. The sight of the blood trickling from his brother's chest indifferent to him. Criston Cole enters the foliage to see Aemond and the corpse of the king. The knight goes to say something, yet Aemond's remaining eye glares at him.

"It was a freak accident, that's all it was." Aemond hums, walking past the knight. "Say otherwise and I'll have you gutted by my sword."

The loss of Aegon was a much bigger loss to The Greens. In comparison, The Blacks only really lost one dragon and dragonrider. The Greens...? They lost their king.

Which leads to them placing Aemond in power in an attempt to regain control.

The death of your husband makes you... conflicted. You didn't really love him... yet you feared the vulnerability that came from having the king slain. You believed it was genuinely an accident caused by Aegon's rash decision to prove himself.

Completely unaware of the culprit hovering around you, coddling you and cheering you up like he didn't kill his brother.

With the death of Aegon, Aemond began courting you. You're a widow queen... and he's the new king. Naturally... you two end up being betrothed to keep up support for The Greens. The marriage is then scheduled to happen within the week.

Such an announcement brings rumors from both sides and supporters. The whole thing seems too convenient. Soon there were rumors of Aemond being a kinslayer, killing his brother just to take his wife.

Aemond could care less for such problematic rabble.

All he really cared about was making you his, let them gossip.

Aemond couldn't help the playful chuckle that poured out of his lips when he saw you pacing about your chambers. You looked so vulnerable without Aegon around anymore. Now you are his queen... one who should listen to him and love only him unconditionally.

Aegon never deserved you, at least Aemond promises to only pay attention to you.

"Here you are, love." Aemond greets, cupping your cheek. "Gods how I love you... I've always loved you...

Aemond leans closer to brush his lips over yours, you leaning into his touch obediently.

"I'm so happy to call you mine... It makes everything I've done worth it...." Aemond hums, kissing your lips. He craves your taste, your touch, always has since you young.

Now you're finally his to claim....

"I always hated the fact Aegon got to have you..." Aemond whispers, pressing your face closer to his own in between kisses. "I always wanted it to be me... always should have been me... but now you're mine...."

Your feelings for Aemond are... complicated. You loved him more than Aegon yet couldn't help but distrust him. It felt too... planned.

Yet you were scared to push.

"Aemond... it is scandalous to act this way with a recently widowed queen...." You whisper, yet Aemond only ignores the comment.

"Let the commonfolk think what they wish..." Aemond growls, pulling you flush against him. “I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

Aemond then chuckles, the idea of the common people and the royals knowing you're his a pleasing thought. To him, this is the ultimate revenge. Even now he despises his brother for taking advantage of the privilege he was given.

At least Aemond plans to use it right.

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.” Aemond teases, tracing his hands over the exposed skin of your nightgown. "Just as you should be...."

The way you shiver in his touch excites him. Be it from pleasure or fear, he doesn't care. Now that you're his... Why would he ever let go?

"Do you believe the rumors, Aemond?" You ask him in such a sweet voice, his one eye looking at you affectionately. He wonders if you can see the darkness in his violet gaze. "The ones where they call you a kinslayer?"

"Do you believe them?" Aemond asks, affectionately kissing your skin. "Do you really care what the common folk think?"

Aemond waits for you to answer, yet is met with silence. He chuckles at your conflicted gaze, kissing your lips softly. It really didn't change anything if you believed them or not... only two people knew the truth...

and Criston Cole was dangerously close to being hanged, anyways.

"Don't worry so much, love." Aemond whispers, pulling back a bit to view you fully. "You'll hurt yourself... just focus on me..." He kisses you one more time before sitting on the bed, hands on your shoulders. "Could you sit on your knees for me...?"

Obediently you listen to him, making Aemond shiver in anticipation. This was what he always wanted. You listening to him... coddling him... tending to only him.

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.” Aemond praises, petting your head as he lays your head in his lap. "No need to worry about anything, my queen... I'll take care of it all for you."

You merely listen to your new king as he strokes your hair. This is all he's ever dreamed of. Aemond can't hide the dark smirk on his face as he gives you the affection he's always wanted to give.

You shouldn't look too much into rumors, you shouldn't worry about a thing, who cares about the fate of Aegon?

You have Aemond now... he'll fix everything... for you, the kingdom, and the seven realms.

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ next part ✩

summary: Spencer and Y/N meet in college after a book search, creating a friendship where opposites attract. But Spencer has to move across the country to pursue his happiness and completely loses contact with Y/N. What if fate decides it's time to meet after 15 years and with a crazy stalker in between? Spencer won't lose to fate again and will do anything in his power to protect Y/N.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

this will be a small series of chapters so here are the general precautions of the series, each chapter will have its own precautions. !!!

words: 3,909 words.

a/n: hey! here alme with a little series i've been planning for a couple of weeks now. as you may know, i've been talking about the spencer reid x famous!reader relationship but as hayley williams, so i decided to set myself the challenge and write a little series called "boy wonder and the rockstar", so i hope you like it. i haven't planned how many chapters it will have yet but i don't want to make it too long, and also patience with each chapter. so, I don't want to make it longer and I'll leave you the first chapter. thank you. ♡

𝟎.𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲.

Spencer always lived under the stigma of being a child genius. His I.Q. was 187, he could read 20,000 words per minute and had an eidetic memory.

Everyone around him told him what to do, from his mother, to his "friends," to his teachers, to his neighbors.

"Hey Spencer, with that brain of yours you could make it in the government" "Spencer you could be part of NASA" "Spencer you could be a mathematical genius like Einstein!" "Spencer you're going to get into the CIA!"

"And where are you going to go to college? Because you know Harvard is already a lock for you" "I bet you'll go to YALE, that's where all the smart ones go" "Princeton is an excellent choice for you!" "MIT could open a lot of doors for you"

Spencer this, Spencer that.

But no one really thought about what Spencer wanted. Maybe he wanted to be a magician and make children happy with his tricks. Maybe he wanted to be a trapeze artist, or a fireman, or an astronaut, or just an ice cream man.

All these expectations of Spencer reached a point where he didn't even know what he wanted in life. He lived under the shadow of the expectations and visions people had placed on him, and he didn't want to let them down. He was just a kid, a kid scared of adult life who had to impose himself because others imposed it on him.

That's how his brain made him skip grades, have to enter high school at age 12, and have to suffer a lot of abuse from the grown-ups for just being a boy genius.

Spencer sometimes wished he could make his brain disappear and have a normal one. Then he could have normal friends, go to a normal school, have a relationship, experience the problems people his age have, and be able to feel the phases of adolescence like any other kid.

But things were not like that.

He had to live the life he had been dealt, with his genius brain and the damn adult problems at 13.

CalTech was a new life he had to accept, but it wasn't as bad as the one he had before. His mind was kept busy for a long period.

He was forced to grow up around books full of equations, chemical elements and mathematical problems, managing at 16 to get his first college degree, which was Mathematics, and the following year to get a PhD in it. But he did not dislike this.

But as they say it is never enough, he kept on studying until he was 21. Thanks to this, he became a doctor of two more degrees, Chemistry and Engineering, in addition to Psychology, Sociology and Criminology.

His social life at the university was not so hectic, in fact, he only stood out for the fact that he was a boy genius, and that was it. To other people, he was a person like any other.

Until one autumn day, in the middle of his 19 years and studying psychology, his paths were interrupted by crossing that of others, and that, probably, is the person who changed his life the last years of college.

It was an ordinary day in the university library. Spencer had been rereading an encyclopedia of human anatomy for two hours. Why you may wonder, well, it was his way of killing time during his free time.

Acquiring knowledge was the best way to keep his brain fed and occupied, according to the boy.

He had eaten his sandwich a couple of minutes ago and let his brain feed on information at that moment, trying to persuade his intrusive thoughts at that minute. Through the pages you could see the muscular system, focusing on the leg and foot areas.

To be honest, it looked quite interesting.

That day, leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, filling the ground with their autumn colors; there was a gentle cool breeze, a strong smell of wet dirt and people were crowded in the warmer areas of the campus. It was no surprise to anyone that the library was one of the most crowded areas, the vast majority of people were gathered around the tables as large college texts lay open on them.

Spencer was sure he had seen more than one student curse at the fact that they couldn't find what they were looking for, and then walk out of the room in exhaustion. It wasn't the first time someone had cursed his name because they found themselves reading the text they were looking for and, besides, they weren't able to approach and ask for it.

He could believe it was cowardly on their part, maybe they were too shy to be able to do it or it was an excuse to put off studying what they were looking for. Even though he considered that the The study methods they had were not very good and, if they started studying earlier, they could increase their grad-

"Excuse me."

A voice interrupted the conversation Spencer was having with himself, pushing away his intrusive thoughts that were beginning to take over his mind. The young man's head turned and he saw a girl, perhaps his age, staring at the encyclopedia in front of him.

"I asked Miss Wellington about the Rouviére and Delmas encyclopedia of human anatomy, and well..." The girl looked over Spencer's shoulder. "She told me that maybe the boy sitting at the back table had it. There are no other tables in the back and you're the only guy sitting here, so I think my deduction is correct and you have it."

"Y-yes, this is the encyclopedia you're looking for." Spencer admitted, looking at the young woman.

More than looking at her, he was admiring her. She was wearing a red skirt and hoodie with some embroidered words on it, her legs were also wearing dark leggings and some rather damaged black converses, over it she was carrying another coat and a backpack; her arms were loaded with medical and anatomy books, plus her hair was disheveled.

"Great! Must be my lucky day that a cute guy has it." Her books fell onto the table and she sat down next to Spencer.

The boy could smell the scent of tobacco and mint mixed with the scent of cherry perfume.

"May I see?" Spencer turned to look at her and, even though he was reading that book first, his head nodded. "Fine! I just want to see..." The sound of the leaves was rapid, as if a fan was moving them. "This... Nervous system."

Suddenly, and as if by magic, a notebook appeared in front of them both and quickly the girl was beginning to write on the blank sheets, even though to Spencer it looked more like a scribble than a resume as such.

"Shit, what is this?" the girl paused to read more closely. "In the central axon, the electrical signal is converted into a chemical signal, and then releases the chemical signal with chemical messengers called neur-neurotransmitters." The sound of the pencil falling on the table made the boy startle.

"Nervous system?"

"That's right, I have a lecture in three days and I'm still trying to associate concepts in the nervous system. Like my nervous system isn't nervous anymore."

Spencer chuckled to himself, the girl had a funny sense of humor.

"In fact, when the brain interprets that we are in danger, it produces a rush of adrenaline that activates the heart and muscles to place them on alert, but if prolonged, it can lead to health problems such as cardiovascular disease like heart attack and is associated with hypertension and arrhythmias and is the enhancer of other cardiovascular risk factors." Spencer turned to look at the girl, who looked quite interested in what he was saying, jotting everything down in her notebook. "But it's not that your nervous system is 'nervous', it's that it interprets that it's in danger and so it sends that kind of stimulus to your body that makes you anxious."

"I see you know about the nervous system, much more than I do." The girl scanned him from head to toe. "Are you a medical student?"

"No, CalTech doesn't have a medical degree, but I am a doctor." The boy admitted.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Shit, and you already have a doctorate?"

"Actually I have three."

Silence stretched between the two, caused by the woman's shock.

"Are you some kind of alien or is your brain too big that it stores more information than I can retain?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 so I can read 20,000 words per minute, plus I have eidetic memory. But I prefer the concept of being more advanced than others."

The girl stared at him.

But to his surprise, the young woman only let out a giggle.

"You're funny, I like it." No one had ever told Spencer that he was funny. In fact, he thought that adjective didn't directly relate to him. "I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"Spencer...Spencer Reid." Y/N denied.

"No, you're not Spencer."

"Excuse me?"

"You're Dr. Spencer Reid." Spencer smiled, she was right. "Well, it's nice to meet you, dr. Reid."

"Nice to meet you, Miss L/N." They both smiled.

"Well, now that I know your name, dr. Reid, we can start our friendship."

Spencer never thought making friends was so easy, even though he knew it was because the girl had gone to the trouble of calling herself his "friend," without even knowing him.

But that didn't bother him, in fact, he found it nice that someone had decided to be his friend.

Overnight, Spencer's evenings began to become more colorful, smelling of tobacco and mint, and filled with questions from Y/N, his new friend.

Although, at first, Spencer didn't seem comfortable around the girl, he quickly got used to it. He had learned several things about Y/N over the days, such as that she was a medical student at Pasadena City College, a college a couple of blocks from CalTech; she was the youngest in the family and had an older brother who had been diagnosed with leukemia a couple of years ago.

He had also learned that she was very into fashion, lived in an apartment complex nearby, smoked a couple of years ago, and only liked menthol tobacco cigarettes. Her favorite color was orange, but she didn't think it looked good on her, and she didn't see herself going to medical school, but she wanted to be a singer.

The first time Spencer heard Y/N sing was during a kermes in Pasadena City, she had been invited to sing on behalf of the medical school. Spencer never liked the idea of being around so many people, let alone at a kermes which was as unsanitary as possible, but his new "best friend" had begged him to go.

He couldn't say no.

He remembered perfectly how her hands shook with nerves, how she bit her lip as she cleared her throat and watched her bandmates, aka Y/N's other friends, rehearse with their instruments.

He knew she had practiced for this moment a bunch of times, had more than once arrived at Spencer's dorm wet from head to toe from running in the rain after a rehearsal, and hummed the songs under her breath every time they studied together in the library.

She was more than ready, but her own fears sometimes made her afraid of her talent.

Reid's eyes were on her, smiling confidently to convey that feeling as a guitar began to play the first chords, and announced the start of her performance.

Spencer didn't know what song it was, he wasn't even sure if the song was to his taste, but when he heard Y/N's voice he knew it had become his favorite song.

“Her name is Noelle

I have a dream about her, she rings my bell

I got gym class in half an hour

And, oh, how she rocks

In Keds and tube socks

But she doesn't know who I am

And she doesn't give a damn about me”

Their gaze was on each other, as if they were the only ones in that large space. The few times the eye contact was broken was when Y/N closed her eyes.

The song ended successfully and an avalanche of applause greeted Y/N, who thanked the audience for their attention. Soon another band filled the stage and for a few seconds, Spencer lost sight of Y/N. He wanted to tell her how great she had turned out, how all her effort and practice had made everything come out perfectly and that she looked like a total rockstar on stage.

"Spence! How was it, did you like it?" Y/N hugged the boy's arm, who turned to look at her with a sweet smile on his face.

"It was amazing, Y/N. Everyone loved it." Affirmed the boy.

"I was so nervous, I was so afraid it wouldn't go well, but I saw you there, and I felt like I could do it. You're my lucky charm, Spencie."

Spencer felt something jump in his chest.

"Let's get something to eat, I'm dying for some corn-dogs." Said the opposite.

"Y-yeah, let's get something to eat, my treat."

The day Spencer was accepted into the FBI academy was probably the most bittersweet day of his entire life.

At 22 years old, and in the middle of finishing his college semester for what felt like the fifth time, a letter arrived in his dorm room.

A letter of acceptance.

He could feel that all his hard work had been rewarded by whoever was up there. He quickly put on his sneakers and ran a marathon to the medical building at Pasadena City College.

His best friend's short red hair he could quickly visualize as he saw her smoking by the entrance, she seemed to be listening to something on her MP4 and bobbing her head to the beat of-who-knows-what song.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Spencer's voice sounded agitated, trying to get her best friend's attention.

The, now, redhead removed her earpiece and turned to see the tall boy running towards her.

"Spence?" From her mouth came the tobacco smoke, causing her to let the cigarette burn between her fingers.

"I made it, I got into the academy!"

The two big hazel eyes made contact with those of the girl, who dropped the cigarette to the sidewalk and hugged her friend tightly.

"I can't believe it, Spence! You did it! You did it! My goodness, I couldn't be prouder!" The younger girl began to do some jumping jacks as she didn't let go of her grip on his embrace.

"Thank you, Y/N. I couldn't have done it without you, you were the one who stuck with me through this whole process."

"You don't have to thank me, dorkie. I knew you'd make it, they couldn't leave out a genius like you." Soon they both disengaged from the embrace and the girl looked at the boy's face. "W-where is the academy? Tell me."

"I don't know, I-I didn't fully read the letter." He admitted embarrassed.

"Then read it! Go on." The girl took him by the arm and forced him to sit down on the faculty stairs.

Slowly, Spencer began to read the letter while Y/N listened intently to every word.

"The course begins on September 23rd of the current year in..." A pause.

Y/N looked at Spencer, who had stopped reading the letter.

"Where, Spence, what does it say?"

"The course begins September 23rd of the current year in Quantico, Virginia."

Y/N felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dropped on her.

Quantico? That was on the other side of the country!

"Q-quantico? Spence, that's on the other side of the-"

"Country, I know Y/N. I-I... I can't do it, I can't."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" The girl stood up startled, looking accusingly at her best friend. "No, I refuse. You have to do it, it's your dream, Spence! What you've always wanted for the last three years that I've known you, I refuse to let you back down now, I won't allow it!"

Spencer looked up from the letter, watching Y/N who was looking at him with her face burning with anger.

"You know I can't do that, what's going to happen to my mom? You know what's going on with her and her schizophrenia, I can't leave her alone."

"She would want you to go, Spence. Her happiness is where yours is, you know she'll be able to do it, there are plenty of options to help her." A long silence settled between the two of them.

Spencer didn't want to leave California, he didn't want to leave his mother or Y/N, he couldn't.

"Spencer Reid, I know what you're thinking right now, but I won't let you let this opportunity pass you by. You have dreamed of this exact moment for years, for as long as I have known you you have always wanted to go to the academy and you have done everything in your power to do so. Now they are offering it to you on a silver platter, you have to do it, there is nothing more you can do here in California. You've already studied all the existing careers in the world, you've already done what anyone in 50 years would have done and at your short 22 years you're already a doctor of three careers." The girl settled back down beside him, letting her icy hand wrap around Spencer's warm one. "You can't just limit yourself to staying here just because you have an engagement, the world has to know who Dr. Spencer Reid is like I know him, you have to go."

Spencer drew an elongated smile, feeling his body fill with that feeling of sadness that pervaded him from head to toe.

The redhead's words were true, it was his dream. But he didn't want to leave the only thing that made him happy on the other side of the country, he would love to carry it in his pocket to Virginia and have his dose of serotonin after each day.

He didn't want to stop smelling her tobacco and minty breath, the cherry smell coming off her clothes and the blueberry smell coming off her hair. He wanted to keep seeing the reddish locks of hair on his clothes and the cheesy paper notes in his pockets every time they met. He wanted to keep listening to the music on Y/N's MP4 every time he went to her apartment and drink coffee with lots of sugar that she made for him, keep hearing her voice in the shower and get biology questions at three in the morning every time she had a test.

He wanted to go to thrift stores to try on printed T-shirts and watch Y/N's camera fill up with pictures of the two of them, keep going to her shows with her band and eat frozen pizza after every gig.

He wanted to keep being with her.

But if she was letting him go, then he had to let her go too.

"I think I can go on living without hearing your bad jokes." Spencer's words lifted Y/N's spirits, who gave him a playful smile.

"Hey! My jokes are the best, last time you laughed for two hours."

"Because it was stupid."

They both laughed, letting the tension of the moment go with the last echo of their laughter.

"So you'll go across the country to make me proud?"

"Yes, I'll go make you proud."

Y/N's arms wrapped around Spencer's body, resting her head in the space of his shoulder and chin.

"I'm glad you didn't make a dumb decision."

Staying here with you isn't a dumb decision, Spencer thought.

They both pulled apart.

"Well, screw the skeleton. Let's go to the library and write your answer."

The girl's small hand imprisoned the boy's large hand, guiding him to the library to write what would be Spencer's fate.

The flight from California to Washington was five hours.

Five hours where Spencer and Y/N would be separated, and they would have to accept that fate had something different in store for the two of them.

Despite California being a sunny paradise, that day he wanted to keep the two friends company as they said goodbye at the airport.

"You already know my number, you know you can call me whenever you want." Commented the girl, who was in charge of carrying the book she had given him to read during the trip.

"I'm not such a fan of technology, you know that."

"There are pay phones over there too, Spence. It only costs a couple of cents to call me, plus they must have landlines there, and you have my email." The girl stopped in front of the door that separated goodbyes with new beginnings. "And if not, you can send me a letter. You know my address."

"A letter doesn't sound bad at all, in fact, for centuries, it was one of the most widely used means of communication by human civilizations since man began to write and whose importance transcended nations. The oldest courier service ever found was in Egypt in 2400 B.C. and in 1840, Sir Rowland Hill created the first postage stamp, which was called Penny Black, which was a profile drawing of Queen Victoria of England that had the rate 'One Penny' written on it."

"Oh Spence, I'm going to miss your fun facts about absurdly boring things." Commented the girl before she could hug him.

Spencer felt his heart clench.

"I'll miss you listening to me." They both turned in an embrace so tight it could take all the oxygen out of their bodies.

Neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye, neither was ready to leave the other. Their hearts were bound together like puzzle pieces, and just as when you lose one, the puzzle will no longer be complete.

"Now, you must go, your flight is about to leave." Y/N commented, separating from the young man as she wiped away the small tear that escaped from her eyes. "Miss me a lot, huh? And show off how pretty your best friend is."

"Always. Remember that wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you're with, you'll always be in my heart."

A pout settled in Y/N's mouth, who felt like she was letting a part of her go with Spencer.

"Don't forget about me, because I will never forget about you." Demanded the girl, who was pushing the boy to go for his flight.

"It's impossible for me to forget you, I have an eidetic memory." He said laughing, waving goodbye as he received the book the girl handed him.

The two met in a final embrace, where Spencer could smell the girl's cherry and menthol tobacco scent for the last time.

"Write me!" Y/N vociferated, waving goodbye to the boy who nodded and disappeared behind the airport doors.

Y/N and Spencer didn't know that at that moment fate would place them on trial, causing their paths to diverge for many years until, magically, they would come together again.

“When two souls are meant to meet, fate brings worlds closer, erases distances, joins paths and defies the impossible.” Anonymous.

@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[mydear-corinthian]

Defense || John Shelby

Synopsis: Defending John during the ambush of Changretta's men in your home.  Pairing: John Shelby x reader (+ Michael - platonic) Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD ! (season 3 & 4), gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, injury Notes: There will be some grammatical errors. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

"Mom, mom, it's Christmas day!", Katie shrugging my shoulders to wake me up. A smile painted on my face just at the sight of my kids. The past few months with John have been challenging. He was held captive for six months and was on the brink death just hours before he was hanged. The good news is that Tommy was able to arrange for his release, though under quite tense circumstances. But Tommy still has my anger because he enabled my spouse to rot in prison. That's why the kids, John, and I are here right now. We've moved out of Small Health and into the country in our new house.

"Alright, Katie. I'm awake .. I'm awake. Happy Christmas," I greeted. I looked around the room and saw that John was nowhere to be found—just the kids and I. When I asked Katie where John was, she replied that he was just making breakfast downstairs. "Thank you, love. Let's go join your Dad now, eh?" I kissed her forehead and joined her to come downstairs.

I met John in the kitchen downstairs, breakfast was already placed on the table. He was in the kitchen, I assume he was still making some hot tea. "Happy Christmas, John," He walked toward me and planted a kiss on my cheek as he said, "Good morning and Happy Christmas, love. I made breakfast. Decided not to make you busy on Christmas day." I laughed at his answer. He gave me a cup of warm tea. He grabbed his metallic pouch full of cigarettes and took one. Lighting it before inhaling the toxic air.

"Bit too early for a puff, darling?", I asked, taking a sip of the tea that John made. "Just want to. Besides, it's Christmas day, y'know," he replied, releasing the air from his cigarette. I shrugged off. It was fine with me since I am a smoker as well plus he's right. It's Christmas.

A car caught my eye as it approached our house. I don't know why, but it felt like a familiar car. The Changretta's are still out there, tracking us one by one. Well- I blame my husband for it.

"John? There's a car coming by our house. We're not expecting visitors.." I looked at the window, moving the curtain a bit with my fingers. John smothered the fire and removed his cigarette right away. He reached for his weapon, which was kept under our kitchen counter table's cabinet. He immediately grabbed my arms. I startled at his touch, I asked nervously, "John, what is it?"

"Get the kids and hide. I'll check who it is," he ordered. My hands found his cheeks as I cupped them. My eyes were slowly filling up with water. "How about you John? I already lost you once and I'm not doing it again."

When his head was already in the noose, I thought I had lost him. awaiting the death angel's arrival to welcome him. I want my children to have a father in their lives. I wish to avoid loneliness. Also, I don't want him to be alone.

"You won't and I'll be back. Just go and hide for me. You understand, (y/n)?" he kissed my lips before going outside. I grabbed the kids immediately, telling them to go to the attic first. My son asked, "What happened, mom?"I got on my knee, now the same height level as my son. I brushed his hair with my finger. "It's nothing to worry about, love. Just go and keep your siblings safe in the attic? I'll be there in a while, okay?" My eldest son nodded in agreement, taking his other siblings up to the attic, and keeping them safe.

I followed John outside. Holding my sheriff gun tightly on my dominant arm.I saw him talking to someone. He put his rifle down, making a conversation with the person. I can't help but be curious and follow him. I sighed in relief, turns out it was only Michael. But that doesn't mean that there's going to be bad news.

"Michael, what are you doing here on Christmas day?" I can't help but ask, I was just beside my husband.

"We need to go now." Michael said.

"To whom?" my husband asked.

"To Tommy. He told me to tell you," he responded.

Fuck. Tommy again. What does he fucking want this time. I can't help but simmer in frustration, my mind fucking with annoyance and exhaustion. After what happened last time, I'm not going to risk my loved ones safety again.

"'Tommy told me' What are you, his fucking parrot?" I argued, my brows knitting together in frustration and in anger. "It's the fucking 'Black Hand'! The mafia! The New York fucking mafia!" Michael debated.

John and I's eyes widened.

The New York fucking mafia? Fucking mafia? Well, fuck us.

John noticed a wagon full of hays stopped exactly in front of our house. 3 men appeared wearing suits and a black hat. Guns out, pointing at the three of us.

"John, no!" Michael shouted but John didn't listen.

John cocked his rifle, shooting the three men. Michael and I did the same. One of their men got hit by our bullets and immediately fell. I was so preoccupied with aiming that I failed to notice that Michael and John had already been wounded and were lying on the ground with blood dripping off of them. I gave them a look. My eyes grew wide with terror and shock. I cried out while squeezing them together. With bullets squeezing his leg, John moaned in pain.

My heart stopped instantly. It seemed as though I was the one going to die. Time and gravity seemed to have stopped. My world came to an end. In front of me, time appeared to be motionless and lacking any sensation of reason or meaning.

Bringing back to my senses, I immediately tore my dress and tied it around my husband's leg, applying pressure to his wound. I did the same thing to Michael too, but John's wounds were much worse than his.

2 men stopped shooting and were heading towards my direction. I grabbed my gun, pointing it at them. "Stay where you are or for God knows what, I'll fucking shoot the both of you." I irritably said.

The two of the men can't help but laugh at what I said. Did I make a fucking joke?

"Very funny. You're a Shelby but you are also a woman. A woman can't shoot! I bet that gun isn't even loaded. How funn-" The man suddenly stopped speaking. His body fell to the ground, blood pooling out of his head. His eyes still opened.

I shot him, directly on the head with no mercy, guilt, and remorse after.

"Well, I'm afraid you lost your bet."

The remaining man was about to shoot me but my actions were more faster than his. I shot him multiple times, emptying the bullet chamber of my gun. "For your information, I shoot better than anyone in the Shelby family. I am a former assassin," you said to the dead bodies in front of you.

Before I left, I said,

"And you don't fuck, with the Peaky Fucking Blinders."

I went back to John and Michael, reassuring both of them that they were dead and that I'd call Tommy and an ambulance right away. John looked at me, and he slowly smiled, "Well that was offensive." I chuckled at his response but hey, it was true. I do shoot better than them. "Stay with me, John. And you too Michael. God doesn't want you guys above there yet."

I ran like there was a race, I reached out for the telephone, calling the hospital to get an ambulance. After that, I called Tommy, rage feeling in every part of my body.

"Black hand, the Mafia, the Changretta's. They were here Tommy. They were fucking here. John and Michael have been shot!"

I hung up the phone and gave it an aggressive touch. I groaned and clutched my hair in a fist. I almost lost my husband again. I quickly made my way to the attic and told my kids they could leave since it was now safe. I told them about their father and uncle while simultaneously assuring them that everything would be alright.

Later on, the ambulances came. They took Michael and John and I went too. The kids stayed with the kids. "Thank you, for backing us up, (y/n). I don't know what to do without you." John thanked me, and his hand grabbed my palm, stroking it with his thumb. I kissed his forehead, muttering an 'I love you'.

"I'm always here, John.

Always."

The End

[bananami]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

characters: dabi x reader (x hawks sort of)

synopsis: you've never "finished" before and apparently dabi is the first person you thought to ask to help rectify that issue. somehow hawks gets roped into all of this, and not even in the way he wishes. poor hawks. maybe next time bby. (2k)

warnings: 18+/mdni, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE LAST SEASON, anyways onto the good stuff - fingering, masturbation, a LOT of dirty talk, dabi says fuck a lot, implied threesome, recording and technically sexting, praise kink AND degradation kink, dabi is a little mean at certain points, somewhat implied yandere on hawks and dabi's end if you squint, reader is referred to with feminine pronouns and terms, reader is implied to have female anatomy

a/n: this took on a whole ass life of it's own. seriously hawks was never going to be a part of this but then I thought hmmm that could work. SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AFTER THIS. i am not responsible for what you read. you are responsible for the media that you choose to consume. i've given ample warnings on content and spoilers. if you're sticking around, HAVE FUN. and no i did not proof read this... xxx

"You want me to do what?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Then I'm not gonna teach you."

"Touya!" You whined. "C'mon, I never ask you for anything- don't give me that look, I don't! I've never enjoyed it, I'm not asking you to show me, just maybe give me some pointers."

Dabi opens his phone to scroll through anything he can to distract himself from the effects of the conversation. It's bad enough hearing you talk about sex, let alone having to make eye contact with you at the same time. "Doll, I hate to break it to you, but if I'm being honest, it's probably got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you tend to date morons who think that if they grope around enough the clit will magically appear."

You scrunched your nose. "That was crass."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pokes at your forehead, knocking you off kilter and falling back onto the other side of the couch, before going back to scrolling through his phone. "You want me to help you get off and you think me mentioning the clit is crass? Make it make sense."

You wished he wouldn't word it that way, even if it technically was exactly what you were asking from him. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to show me how to do anything, I just a little advice to make it better."

"It takes two to tango, baby. You being good at it doesn't mean they will be. You're putting it all on yourself and you can't do that."

"Ok..." you pause for a moment, gathering the courage to even whisper the next few words that cross your lips, "what about when I do it myself?"

That makes Dabi pause, his attention drawn immediately away from his phone and back onto you. "What do you mean when you do it yourself?"

You huff, getting slightly irritated with his line of questioning, as though it isn't obvious what you're saying. "Ok look, we've been friends for a long time and there's no one else that I trust enough to have this conversation with." Your fingers together as you attempt to keep eye contact with him while speaking. "I have a hard time...finishing."

"Why?" There it was. No judgment, no laughing, no making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Dabi was straightforward and you knew that no matter what you asked, he would find a way to accommodate for you.

"I don't know," you admit, "it's like I get right there and think it's gonna happen and then it just doesn't."

Dabi is silent for a long time. He looks lost in his head, leaving you unsure on what to say. When he finally speaks it leaves you with a bit of relief. Because he again sounds genuinely curious. Although a little strained.

Unbeknownst to you, that may be because of the raging hard on Dabi is trying to keep from getting any worse or more noticeable.

"What are you using?"

"I've tried literally everything. I even bought one of those cute little vibrators from that place you and Keigo always talk about."

Fuck. That's the last thing he needed to hear. Wait until he told Hawks. He'd probably kick Dabi's ass for not calling him immediately. He'd probably do a lot worse after finding out what Dabi was about to offer without shooting the fucker an invite.

"Maybe you just need someone to walk you through it."

"What, like...like you do it for me."

"Like I'll tell you what to do, and if that still doesn't work then we can improvise."

You sit stock still, wondering what this would mean for your friendship with Dabi if you were to go through with it. But he was offering, he wouldn't do that if he thought it would be a bad idea. Would he?

No.

No, you trusted Dabi. That's why you came to him for this. And if he thought this was a good idea, then it had to be.

So you shook your head. You swore his eyes turned five shades darker.

"Lay down."

You do as your told almost immediately, and it doesn't go without acknowledgement.

"Good girl, I'm not gonna touch you just yet, I'm just gonna help you out of these. That alright, baby?" And you shake your head without any hesitation this time.

Dabi's finger skim the top of your jeans until they find the button to undo them. He pulls them do slowly, your panties with them, until they're completely off your legs. He drops your jeans to the floor but your eyes widen just a bit when he brings your panties to his nose and he takes a deep breathe. The embarrassment hits you full force. He slips them into his pocket, and you just know you're not getting them back.

"Open those legs and let me see you, doll." Clearly you don't move fast enough, because Dabi grabs both of your ankles to pull them apart, setting one leg up over the top of the couch, and the other bent in the opposite direction, your foot and ankle laid against his lap.

"Show me what you usually do, pretty girl. Put on a show for me."

You don't know how you can be both so embarrassed and confident at the same time, but it's something about his words that make you feel so much at once. Your fingers begin their usual dance against your skin, and it does nothing but spur him on.

"There you go, pretty baby just needs some guidance doesn't she? Fucking rub your clit for me, just how you like it, show me."

Your fingers rub against your clit, and it makes your body hot having his eyes right on your most sensitive parts. You can feel it building inside you, heightening when his eyes find yours and he smirks. "What do you want? Need me to tell you how pretty that pussy is? You want some praise, you little slut? A little degradation? You like when I call you my good little slut? I bet you fucking do. Shove two fingers into the pussy, let me see you take them."

Your head is fuzzy as you do what he says. Your fingers aren't very long, but they get enough of the job done. Dabi's words do more of the work than anything.

"Fuck, listen to the wet cunt, pull your fingers out, rub your clit again. That's right, baby, make a mess for me."

You keep at it for a while, but it's not until you get to the closest you've ever been to cumming that you realize it's not gonna work. You can feel it, and you want it so bad you're practically crying, but there's just something missing.

Dabi catches on quickly. "No go, baby?" He teases you. "You need to cum so bad, don't you?" You can't do anything but keep moving your fingers and shaking your head.

He lets you go a little longer, savoring the tears glistening in your eyes. And then he's pulling at your wrist, yanking your hand up toward his face, and wrapping his lips around your fingers. The same two that were just inside you.

The audible gasp that falls from your mouth does nothing to quell the growing excitement inside him. He's licking your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls them from his mouth, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Any of those shitty little boyfriends get a taste straight from the source?" You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he rolls his eyes. "Your pussy, any of them ever eat it? Or did they skip the foreplay? The look on your face is telling me all I need to know. Their loss, doll. Taste so fucking good, could spend hours with my tongue inside you."

It's his fingers ghosting over your clit that makes you almost choke. You have to shove your hand against your mouth to keep from being too loud.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dabi's voice is practically seething, "let me hear every fucking noise I make come from those lips. Made me wait this fucking long, you owe me that."

Your hand is forcibly removed from your hand and pinned at your side.

"Keep it there." He commands. And then two of his fingers are slipping inside of you. "Such a fucking cocktease, you know that? Have me and Keigo practically drooling over you and you wanna choose a bunch of fuckboys instead? They can't even get you off. Now you're coming to me wanting to cum. Fuck you. Beg."

"Please, please, please," you don't hesitate. And all of a sudden all you can think about is Keigo. And Dabi. And Keigo and Dabi. "Need to, please, please-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing. So fucking tight. What are you thinking about, huh? Is it because I mentioned Keigo." You can't help it. "There you go again, baby, does he make you wet too? I bet you wish he was here to help too."

It's a fleeting thought, but Dabi can't help himself. Hawks would be pissed if he missed this. He tries facetime, but no answer. Sorry fuck. The next best thing will have to do.

Dabi pulls up his camera and hits record at the same time that his fingers curl and he snaps, bordering on too much and not enough.

"That's right, want it dripping all down my hand. Cry for me, little mouse, let me see those tears." His thumb plays with your clit as he focuses the camera right on the place where you and him meet. "Can't tell you how many times him and I have had to jack each other off to the thought of your pussy."

You choke on your tears, "Touya-"

"Need you to come all over my fingers, baby. Show Keigo how good I'm making you feel. You'll let him help out next time, won't you?" You don't understand why, but your brain is so foggy, and you nod vigorously, maybe to agree, maybe to clear your head, it didn't really matter at this point. "Yeah? You'll let him eat that little pussy, right? He's been dying for a taste. Is that what you want, you want us to share you?"

The thought of them sharing you is what does it. Dabi swears he's never heard a more beautiful noise than the sounds you make when you orgasm. He doesn't let up, his fingers still relentless inside you. You almost panic when you begin to feel the next wave pass over you, similar but different from the last one.

"He can lick your pretty cunt while I pound into you, hmm. Or maybe I'll let him have your pussy first since he missed out today, so long as I get to take your ass while he does. Or you think you can squeeze the both of us inside this tight pussy? A little effort, but I bet we can make it work, doll." The chuckle that leaves him is almost sadistic, and all of a sudden, you feel your body snap.

"Look how she squirts," you hear him saying, "pussy's a fucking dream." He lands a slap against it that makes you flinch from how oversensitive you feel, and hits send on the video.

The next couple of minutes are spent in silence, except for Dabi, who is whispering things like did so good, perfect for both of us, such a good girl.

Dabi makes sure your cleaned, having to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, where he sits you against the countertop and begins running a rag over the inside of your thighs. It's distracting enough that you don't hear the vibration of his phone against the granite counter.

His smirk only grows at the message that lights across the screen.

Hawks: dICK

Hawks: im gonna kick your ass

Hawks: i'll be right over

[diegosumbrella]

My observations from s4 of Umbrella Academy

I dont even wanna talk about the main plot of whatever the fuck that car crash of a season four was, but heres some plot discrepancies I noticed while watching Umbrella Academy.

!! Season four spoilers under the 'see more' !!

- Luther's unnecessary body change

It's stated so clearly in s1 that Luther never gained his body from the marigold or developed it along with his powers. When he was up on that mission on the moon, he had an accident and Pogo had to donate his blood which resulted in Luther having that monkey body we all know and love.

So as Luther drank that said marigold, why would he suddenly gain back the blood donated from pogo and the body that comes along with that..? It's as if the writers themselves forgot why he had that body. Why write in unnecessary body dysphoria for my poor baby?

- Diego's sudden appearance of ab's

Listen. I am the last fucking person to complain about a Diego Hargreeves shirtless scene, where you see his pecs quite literally bounce BUT why did he change so drastically from 'dad bod' to suddenly 'ripped'?

I read an article interview with Steve Blackman and saw a few snippets from a podcast that explained that David (Diego's actor) didn't want to gain weight for the role, which is totally understandable. But if you have an actor who doesn't want to gain weight for this role, why not just keep Diego as fit?

Due to the short six episodes, it's extremely easy to miss how Diego slowly becomes more fit as time progressed. For most, and also myself at first, that fighting scene just looked confusing as fuck. Like two episodes before, Lila was calling you 'tubby' (or whatever the fuck she said), so why do you have abs now?? Where did the dilf diego dad bod disappear to :(

- Allison's beloved Ray just leaving her

I'm not sure if i'm taking this the wrong way completely but... In the scene after Allison had given Klaus the marigold against his wishes, but also to save his life. As Klaus is calling out every member of the family, he mentions how he 'took care of Allison when Ray walked out'.

Like i'm sorry but the fuck do you mean Ray just walked out?? Why did he leave Allison if she had no powers. She'd clearly built a better life for herself and began to change her mindset for the better, compared to s3 she's drastically better.

It's never explained (probably again for the lack of episodes) and it's never even mentioned again. Like does Allison share custody of Claire with Ray? Does Claire even see her father? I have so many questions and once again, a severe lack of answers.

- Klaus breaking his five year sobriety

As much as us as an audience are aware of Klaus' addictive tendencies and his utter thirst for form of drug in the former seasons, but why establish that he's not only been sober for three entire years but he's also now a huge germaphobe just for him to ruin it in five seconds.

The main problem I had with this is the fact none of the siblings, including and most importantly Allison, had zero reaction to this. They weren't upset, angry, disappointed or fuck it even happy. They practically ignored the fact their brothers three year detox went out the window.

Five's ability to time jump

Before I get you all jumping up my arse, i'm fully aware I could discuss how they completely just fucked his character development and his entire personality as a whole for a shitty romance that made absolutely no sense but I'm gonna make a separate post on that because oh boy do I have some shite to say.

ANYWAY.

I can't even go into much detail with this one but why is it that every time five attempts to do his time jumps, he ends up in that subway but when he does it with Lila in that end episode.. he can suddenly just jump..?? normally?? Like why. Why can he now only just time jump as he used too. WHY WAS THE SUBWAY NEEDED FOR OTHER THAN FOR THAT AWFUL FIVE X LILA PLOT????

It's as if the writers couldn't come up with a way to get the brellies into that building with Ben so instead of using critical thinking and writing them breaking in, they just said 'fuck it make him time jump with Lila'. Like no I have questions??

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude Jazza's PV Dissection ☾.

Beneath the cut for event and other suitor's route spoilers. This is just for fun, and please feel free to kindly share what you think! To be honest, I don't think I have anything interesting to add, but here goes it...

My First Thought: Let’s just state the obvious and say that Jude’s route is going to be ANGSTY and WILD!!! That much is definite by watching the PV, and that’s pretty much what we see in his events as well. The animation was beautiful. There’s a A LOT of recycled CGs, and majority of his lines come from his gacha cards and bond stories, but it gets the job done.

However, I feel like Jude is still very much under wraps. His PV barely gave us anything to go on that we don’t already know about, or haven't theorized. I’ve watched it like 15 times. I counted the number of hands on the clocks to see if there were 13 (there’s not), and paused to search the outline of Big Ben, and things like the shadows to see if something was hinted or hidden, but nothing.

Of course, that doesn’t mean it didn’t give us anything at all, but before we get into that, let’s just recap the premise of Act 2:

In Act 2, Kate has already been the fairytale keeper for one full week, and that’s when Vogel enters the picture with the claim that they want to be “friends” with Crown. Harrison knows that they’re lying about something, and Darius, as we learn, is looking for “family members.”

Now…..

Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick - The ticking clock is very prominent in his trailer, and that makes sense because Jude’s fairytale curse is associated with time. His icon is an hourglass, and he is very cognizant in events/routes about wasting time. Additionally, it’s interesting to note that several of Jude’s events often mention specific lengths of years that have passed, such as, Dark IF, GHR, Island Lust, and a bond story.

As far as the PV goes, I think it may be hinting that Jude is running out of time in the sense of accomplishing a goal, which will in turn fulfill a promise. Our average life span today is about 80 years, but back then it was much shorter, and I feel like Jude needs a lot of time to accomplish what he is doing. It could be that a single lifetime is not enough for him to accomplish it, but he is going to try anyway. Such as? Him traveling to the moon. I feel like the PV points to this at the outset with that giant full moon behind Big Ben. I think this may be a CG we get.

Conversely, it could be that he is running out of time in the sense that he is dying of an illness. We know for a fact that he suffers from seasonal asthma (which is triggered with enclosed spaces filled with smoke), he smokes himself, but he also suffered from childhood malnutrition, and that can cause a lot of issues. Still, I don’t know how strong of a theory this is as Jude has no problem with physical exertion or activity……not looking at that one other gut I love in IkePri.

Additionally, a part of me feels like he’s just tired and he wants to die. To be honest, all these guys have some kind of death wish in one form or another, but in terms of Jude, Ellis said that he looked like he was going to fall into the river as he looked at the moon while chain smoking, and Roger said Jude looked like he was vacantly staring at the moon as if he had given up on something.

Notably, in Roger’s past records, we learn that Jude uses cigarettes to fuel his rage to keep him living, and Kate also mentioned in his Cruise Liner event that anger is a great motivator.

So, for all intents and purposes, Jude is being kept alive by his own rage, cigarettes, the promise he made, and Roger. THANK YOU ROGER! That’s what I feel at least.

Rewinds/Record Scratches: I think glitchy rewind/record-scratching sound is being cleverly used to note the different tones we are going to see in his route, like I mentioned before, it’s going to be angsty and wild (that’s what I feel anyway).

However, I will say that a part of me feels like it’s a nod to all the times he says things like, ‘once you’ve lost something, you can’t get it back.' How many of us wish we could rewind and do things over or see someone we’ve lost again, even if it were just for a minute?

Jude said in Roger’s route that once someone is gone those left behind are stuck feeling a void, and I think he’d do whatever he could to rewind time if that were in his power. However, cue that jazzy music and we find ourselves in the interior of a…..

Warehouse: No doubt by the docks that Jude frequents for deliveries, and while it’s nothing major, it does indicate one of the settings we will likely be at. Although, this is pretty obvious to most of us because in both his first event and his one year anniversary event, they are at the warehouses by the docks.

Personally, I loved the detail of the seagulls, not that is important in anyway, but I just got excited to see a visual of it instead of just imagining it. However, I am hoping to see something different in terms of what we’ve already seen in both of those events. Kate getting caught by someone who broke their contract with Jude or is after Jude, and she is caught in the middle. Is that too much to ask?

Papers: We quickly shift to an office like space, whether this is located at Raven or at Crown, there is something very important to note in this scene, and that’s not only the rows of books behind our clever mobster, but the bulletin board that has notes stuck all over them.

At first, I thought that this could be business plans, product information or designs, business targets, or information about the personal lives of those whom Jude makes contracts with. Ultimately, I think that these are engineering designs and research papers that he’s written and/or reviewed for……moon travel. If you look closely, one paper in particular has a definite design on it.

Why am I so hellbent on this? Because Jude says himself in his bond levels that he’s trying to nab all the researches and scientists that he can as quickly as possible, and that he was going to have Ellis look into the authors who wrote the papers he had been reading. On a random note, I don’t think this would be his office space at Raven, but his personal office or room at Crown.

About that Bridge Scene: You know, the one where he looks completely over this shit as he smokes a cigarette? Then all of a sudden he shoots you that look like he’s gonna tear you up because he’s annoyed, and you’re like: Impregnate me, please? That one. So, the night that Ellis met Jude, Ellis said that he was standing on the bridge looking like he was about to fall into the river.

I believe this may be the second CG we may get of Jude in his route, and I want to know why he goes to the bridge? Is there special meaning to it? Did he visit that place with his loved one? Was a promise made under the moon? Is this were he wants….things to end? And forgive this last bit, but I can’t help but think of the song ‘Moon River’ when he’s at that bridge.

Ah, to hell with it, It’s too pretty not have posted again:

How long: When we get to the scene of Jude and Kate in a somewhat awkward rain scene (I agree with my friends, her sprite looks out of place), he asks Kate how long she is planning to stick next to him. Here again, we have a form of time being hinted at, and Kate’s time with Crown should end in three weeks time.

Still, we don’t know how far along we are in his route when he asks her this question, so it’s difficult to say how much time Kate has remaining with him at this point. What we can guess is that she’s been at Crown long enough to have seen Jude do horrendous things - all of Crown - for that matter.

Additionally, she will have seen the filthy underbelly of England at that point, perhaps in the form of drugs, SA, human-trafficking and the like, if his events are any indication of that. Not to mention his cruel attempts to force her to give up on being fairytale keeper. So, how do you think Kate will answer, and will her answer disrupt his plans??

Unhinged, Possessive, Obsessive Jude: Is he really though? I think so. This is what I think will be the third CG - belonging to his Mad Love End. Did you all see those eyes??? He is UNHINGED, and I am HERE for it. I think it really drives home the point too that he is going to make her pay for placing a curse on him for the rest of her life - that’s Judese for - I’ll make you pay for making me love you for as long as you live.

Seeing him that expression in his eyes and the way he plays with her hair, (this is also a thing Jude does in his events), really exemplifies the phrase that he also uses in that their being together is madness.

Thinking about it, it really wasn’t until the Island Lust story that we started to see a small glimmer of Mr. Jazza’s jealousy, and that’s because Jude is often cold and controls any emotions that could be linked to her romantically. But we slowly start to see this change with Island lust, I gushed how he didn’t like Kate thinking about the other Crown members when he was near her, and in effect, ignoring him.

In the Jude vs. Nica event, we got even more of his jelly side when he learned that Kate and Nica are on a first name basis, even though they just met. CUTEST THING EVER.

And finally, in his Dark Mafia card, Jude is ready to commit murder over the guys who are looking at Kate. So, I’m really looking forward to seeing how jealous or possessive he may get once he gives into his feelings.

Pocket Watch: The time shows at 10:10 pm. Is this significant? I can’t say for sure, but there is nothing odd about the pocket watch itself. The only thing I noticed is that the hands on the pocket watch aren’t moving.

That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but let’s throw out a random idea I had about the watch actually being broken. It doesn’t work. The time stopped at exactly 10:10 pm, perhaps some incident happened during that time when it stopped, and Jude wears it as a memento. Ultimately, I don’t place too much stock in this because there's really no basis for it, but let's say we've covered our bases with this and move on to the last, but certainly not least...

My Evil (or sin), is an unfulfilled promise: His tag line at the end….I don’t believe this is related to Jude’s fated demise. I have an inkling that Cybird may go the Disney route for his fate, but that can be a discussion for another day….maybe. What I do believe is that this emphasizes Jude’s compellation to pay back an unfulfilled promise (essentially what amounts to a betrayal).

I don’t feel that he MUST pay back betrayals that others experience, but if he is involved in a case in some manner of speaking (like for missions), Jude has been known to carry out revenge, such as he does to Anne’s father in GHR. Also, in the "Evil Behind the Scenes" event, Jude allows the husband of the wife who was unfaithful take care of things behind closed doors (it said it was supposed to be talking, but Ellis was in the room too, and who knows what the husband did). It’s interesting, because Jude mentions that while he has no interest in harming women, betrayal must be repaid, so whatever happened happened.

This would make sense as to why Jude does everything he can to fulfill his own promises. But, what if he fails to keep his own promise……what happens then? Hope to find out soon.

That's all I could dig up. They really gave us nothing, but everything at the same time?

Honorable Mention: No eye Kate...please stop treating my girl this way cybird!

[bones4thecats]

Them With A Reformed Sinner! S/O

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: Them With A Reformed Sinner! S/O Characters: Adam, Lute, and Emily Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: This is mainly about how they meet and my take on how Season two may go, y'know with God being introduced and holding a meeting on what happened during Extermination Day. Anyways, have a great rest of your days/nights!

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Death and Non-Canon Events ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

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Reformed Sinner! Reader ; 'Died' with Sir Pentious ~ Fox-Demon

🎸 Adam, despite what many in Heaven think, doesn't bother memorizing all of his descendants and what they do. He only sees them after they die during the Extermination

🎸 You were one of Sir Pentious' helpers when it came to making his creations, such as the Egg Boiz for example. And, when he had begun his charge up his ship to take on Adam head-first, you were one of the people inside of the ship, holding his hand as he said his so-called final words; Fire.

🎸 When you both awoke after falling onto a ground, you couldn't lie, you were horrified. After all, who just dies from being blasted by an angel and suddenly appears in a new land?

🎸 It took you a little more processing than your college, but, when you did finally come to terms that you were in Heaven, due to your actions in Hell against Adam, you were quite pleased

🎸 This action just allowed Heaven to realize their faults in judgement; Reformation was possible!

🎸 You and Pentious were taken to the main judgement room where Charlie and Vaggie were months prior and that was where you met your unknowing future spouse

🎸 Adam had just barely dodged the attack from Niffty and escaped back to Heaven with Lute on his tail as he swore revenge on the residents of the Hotel

🎸 He had then healed up and was required to go to the meeting where their Father, God, had set up to discuss the day's events and whatnot. And anyone could tell that he was both pissed and pleased

" And Adam. What in the name of Earth were you thinking?! I only allowed Extermination on the one condition that is happened when I decided it to be necessary, not for you to do it six months prior! Without my knowledge nonetheless! And, who are these two?! " " They're the first reformed sinners! My Father, meet Sir Pentious and Y/N L/N. "

🎸 Adam glared at you two, remembering how you stood beside Charlie as they declared war upon one another. And he remembered how determined you stared him in the eyes as he blasted you two nothing alongside your friend

🎸 Once God had calmed down and motioned for you, Pentious, and Adam to step forward and announced for everyone else to exit the room, the first man and grown more nervous than before

🎸 When the creator of life had placed you three at a table and told you guys to speak to one another without any malice or hatred, and, in turn, basically apologize, Adam straight-up asked why

" Because Adam. They are new members to our home, and that means we must treat them with the same amount of respect that we treat the natural Winners. Now, apologize. " " But- I- Ugh... fine... I'm sorry... " " Apology- " " Forgiven. And we apologize for attempting to kill you in return. We just- felt the need to protect our friends more than we had any value for each other's lives. "

🎸 He was shocked, you were apologizing for trying to kill him?! He had tried killing you! You must have been trying to deceive him, that is what foxes were known for; deceit.

🎸 Forcing a smile despite his confusion and wish to throw out colorfully decorated questions at you, Adam just pushed through the meeting second by second. But, he'd have to ask you questions later on. He just had too.

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Reformed Sinner! Reader ; 'Died' fighting along Alastor ~ Chickadee-Demon

🗡️ She did not want to be here in the slightest.

🗡️ Why was she needing to tell her side of the story?! You and your little friend, Alastor, had attacked Adam, nearly killing him in the process, much to everyone's shock

🗡️ Lute was not amused with how you kept a small smile when mentioning your fight against Adam and how you had stood your ground during, smiling with full teeth- ones matching the Radio Demon's, though yours were more white

🗡️ The Father of Humanity just looked at you and your snake friend before smiling gently and motioning you and him to come closer so he could look into your eyes

🗡️ He could tell when someone was lying by looking deep into their eyes, it was something about their soul being based off of a piece of him that made it work

🗡️ Lute watched with narrowed eyes and your wings come flying backwards with force as your eyes turned white with black spots littering, oh how she hoped you and Pentious were banished back to Hell

" They pass. Their seems to be no amount of sin left within them, well, there is a hint, but a hint I can forgive. " " WHAT?! "

🗡️ Smacking her hands to her mouth, Lute slammed her head into the stand's top, making a loud thump echo throughout the room signalling her shock if the word was not enough

🗡️ The exorcist looked at you and Pentious and gritted her teeth as he began to tear up with joy as God summoned his little Egg Boiz back into existence, though they took on a more heavenly-egg form than an demonic-egg one

🗡️ Looking at you especially as a small bird landed on your large piece of feather-like hairs that stood up from your head, her heart began to pound heavily as her mind screamed at herself for the interior action

🗡️ Why in the name of Heaven was her heart pounding at your smile and gentle nature with the Egg Boiz and your little bird friend?!

🗡️ Whatever the reason was, she didn't want to think about it anymore. After all, such an action could be perceived as unholy, resulting in her demise to Hell

🗡️ Holding her spear closer, Lute nodded as God dismissed everyone and Emily hugged you and pet your bird as she spoke to Sir Pentious, asking you guys some stuff about the Hotel and who you guys believed could be redeemed next

🗡️ Lute almost bumped into you, but she stopped herself, allowing one question to burn in her mind as she began to walk away to where a certain female demon was;

🗡️ Why did you seem so cute?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Reformed Sinner! Reader ; 'Died' protecting Charlie from Adam ~ Hyena-Demon

💞 You were known to be very aggressive around those you deemed not worthy of your presence, and as one of the most dangerous demons in Hell when angry, even those in Heaven saw this come out

💞 This happened when Adam had tried to lay his hands on Charlie during the meeting, though you were far faster and more dangerous than Vaggie when it came to this time

💞 You had jumped the gun and kicked the first man away, shocking everyone. And when you barked for the two females to be sent back with you to your home, Sera just nodded and made a portal for you guys to leave, much to Adam's annoyance

💞 Emily had barely even met you, and it saddened her. But, seeing you defend Charlie from such a powerful heavenly figure made her heart skip a couple beats

💞 Wait- why was she thinking you looked amazing protecting the Princess of Hell?! Was this unholy?!

💞 She hadn't heard about or from you until Extermination Day, which was when Adam and his exorcists had descended to attack and kill as many sinners as they could

💞 And in Adam-ly fashion, they had went to attack the Hazbin Hotel first, much to everyone else's annoyance

💞 You had noticed that Adam was about to kill Charlie, so, you threw yourself in front of her, making his large attack hit you and in-turn kill you, and that action prompted the angry outburst of your closest friends, Alastor and Charlie

💞 Surprisingly though, you and Sir Pentious, who had also died protecting the Hotel and your friends, had appeared in Heaven before Sera and Emily

💞 Emily had looked at you both in awe, adoring your new look; your fur and tail was more well-kept and your ears were fluffier with the skin inside being shaped like tiny pink-tinted hearts to match your hand's markings

" Y/N! Oh my goodness, you got reformed! How awesome is this?! "

💞 The angel squealed and hugged you as you chuckled nervously, still adjusting to the bright surroundings. To be honest, you expected to close your eyes and never open them again

💞 Sir Pentious held onto you from behind as you led him throughout the building and during the meeting with your Creator and the rest of his heavenly council, and you had to admit, watching Emily gleefully talk about you and your friend was nice

💞 Maybe you could get used to your new afterlife here?

💞 Maybe Emily could hang out with you even more!

💞 Maybe this could be the start of a whole new relationship? Oh no she's going full on romantic, isn't she?

[love-toxin]

jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

[humanpurposes]

Karma is a God, Chapter 16: The Endless Storm

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

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Warnings for this chapter: 18+, spoilers for F&B and future seasons of HotD, canon divergence, descriptions of violence, angst, mentions of death and war

Full chapter is on AO3

Light sears through Aemond’s skull like a fire. It hurts, another sensation of pain and what difference does it make to him? Half of his body is wrapped in bandages, his chest, his shoulder, his sword arm kept in a sling. Discomfort has been the one truth of his life for days, weeks, moons. He welcomes it.

He blinks his one eye open, his vision obscured from the days he has spent in darkness. The air is cold and thick with grey mist, he feels the weight of it as he breathes. He listens for the sharpening of steel, the sounds of armour and horses, the sounds of soldiers, but Harrenhal is silent.

A guard has him by his left arm, tightening his grip wherever the Prince dares to fumble his steps. Not long ago his every movement was made with intention and pride; he would have taken a man’s life for handling him like a beast.

They walk through the courtyard where he had the Strongs on their knees, through the castle gates, then a little away from the road across uneven ground towards the lake. The shape of two dragons await them through the mist settling around the God’s Eye. One is far larger than the other, with bronze and brown scales, one of the wild dragons. His rider sits atop the saddle, a common girl, watching him with her hands on the reins. Aemond wonders if he tried to run, or tried to take the guard’s sword, would she bathe him in dragonfire? 

The colour of Grey Ghost’s body fades into the fog, but his yellow eyes are piercing and cut right through it, the slim slit of his pupils trained directly on Aemond. It unnerves him to his core. At the dragon’s head stands his rider. Luke strokes her hand over his snout. She looks painfully familiar in her riding leathers and her hair braided away from her face. She wears a red skirt and a red cloak, not dissimilar to the one she wore when she walked into the Round Hall at Storm’s End, the cloak he took from the shore of Shipbreaker Bay while a storm raged around him, the cloak he left in his chambers in the Red Keep.

Would it still be there now? Would Rhaneyra have had his belongings burned? Would she have destroyed any remnants of the family she never wished to claim? Not that Luke’s cloak was his to keep, and yet he could not part from it once he had found it.

The guard gives Aemond a slight shove forwards but he holds his balance.

Luke turns to face him, her expression agonisingly passive. “I will mount the dragon and you will follow,” she says. Her voice sits in her chest rather than her throat.

At first he does not move. The guard unsheathes his sword. The rider of Sheepstealer glares at him. Aemond finds it in himself to huff a laugh.

“Will you have difficulty following my instructions, uncle?” Luke says.

He feels the corner of his mouth quirk, content to toy with his life because what else can he possibly lose? “What makes you think I will not seize this opportunity to put a knife in you?” he says.

“Do you have a knife?”

His eye trails down her waist, to her belt and a golden hilt concealed in a sheath. “You have one.”

“I do,” she says, pulling on her riding gloves, “but I would advise against trying to kill me just yet. Grey Ghost will not take kindly to you.”

Her dragon huffs a cloud of smoke through his nostrils, his yellow eyes narrowing. It’s a different kind of beast to the one she rode as a child. Arrax grew alongside her, he would coo and nudge at her with his snout. Grey Ghost has scars in his flesh, sharp and uneven teeth, the look of a dragon that has had to hunt and truly fend for itself.

He watches her as she mounts the dragon.

He used to watch the others, Jace, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron in the Dragon Pit, when they’d be brimming with excitement to fly. Arrax was small, but Luke was a small thing herself, hauling herself onto the back of her mount with pure determination. She couldn’t stand it when Jace and Aegon would go darting off into the sky without her.

When she settles in the saddle she looks down at him. He watches her chest as she breathes deeply. Is she nervous? Is she frightened of what he might do? Or merely eager to return to her Queen with a prisoner in tow? 

She makes an expression of disgust, bites her lip and raises her eyes to look ahead. 

Aemond obeys her to spite her. His limbs are weaker than he’d expected them to be. Sharp pains shoot through his chest as he makes the climb, manoeuvring himself with only one useful arm. The scar over his eye starts to sting again and he digs his teeth into the flesh inside his mouth. He will not appear weak to her.

Having reached the saddle, he swings his leg over the dragon’s back, placing his hands on Luke’s waist to steady himself. He feels how she flinches, though he’s barely touched her.

Perhaps she does fear him. The thought tugs on the corner of his mouth.