#he took her to court. and they asked the children as well.

[outlying-hyppocrate]

fun fact about silas koivunen! while his sister, freya, was actually born in finland, he was born in sweden two and a half years later. the koivunen family has moved from finland to sweden to france to the united states. the father remained in sweden, and the mother lives halfway across the state they are in (california ?) because their half-brother, kieran, whom they are currently in the custody of, lives quite far away.

[eraenaa]

Unexpected Affections

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: With just a smile, you had managed to bewitch and enthrall the stoic and cold prince. 

Warnings: Sunshine x Grumpy Trope, ¿Softer Aemond?, ¿Simp Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, Fingering, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (f receiving), Overstimulation, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 7,287

A/N: Really milking softer Aemond bc I'm pretty sure I'm going to take a break from him once s2 is released.

He’s broken beyond repair. Too far gone to be saved. Aemond knew fully well that is how the others see him. The boy who had his eye taken was never the same. Darkness was his only solace, the walls too far up that no one dared to scale it and reach the true him— simply taking the dark and villainous scrap of his true self that he was willing to give. All seemed to give up on him— simply let him drown in his darkness, except you. 

Like all things good, you came unexpectedly. You were a mere visitor from Highgarden, a noble lady who came with your lord father as he tended to business in the capitol. Aemond could never understand how you looked at everything and everyone with rose-colored glasses, but he supposed he should be grateful because if that trusting naivety in you were lost, your light would never come close to his looming darkness. 

“Who is that?” Aemond asked his family’s most trusted knight, Ser Criston Cole. Your figure caught his attention; it was as if you were floating along the gardens of his home. A small smile on your face and flowers adorned in your hair. He stood near the balcony, discussing important business with the knight, when his train of thought was lost and captured by your mere presence. “Lady Tyrell, her father has business here with the crown,” the knight said absentmindedly. Aemond nodded and took one last glance at you before walking away. 

The thought of you was quickly forgotten by the prince. He saw your presence as just another to add to the list of nobles at court who cowered upon his stature. However, you lingered in the back of his mind as he often saw glimpses of you walking through the halls of his home. Aemond stood in the gardens once more, this time waiting for his sister and her children when he caught your eyes. He waited for fear and apprehension to present themself in your orbs, the same reactions he would elicit from everyone. However, the prince was taken aback as you smiled at him. A small, respectable smile before you stole your eyes and continued to your promenading.

Aemond blinked his eye rapidly, trying to discern if he saw correctly or if it was a cruel trick made by his impaired vision. Aemond pursed his lips as he felt himself walk towards where you had passed. There was this odd pull about you— more than your beauty; if it was just that, a comely face was never one to put the prince in a trance. It was an ethereal element that beguiled Aemond quickly. He had not even spoken to you, yet you had already managed to put such an effect on him. 

He watched from a distance as you bent down and assessed a flower, your fingers caressing the velvety petal and bringing it to your nose to discern the fragrance of it. Aemond felt that pull once more, his feet carrying him closer to you. When you stood straight, your brows raised in surprise as you had noticed you were no longer alone. “My prince,” You greeted with a curtsy, his silvery locks the warning sign that you spoke to royalty. Aemond was rendered silent, his mind already spinning at the sound of your voice. What was this? He could not explain what had overcome him. You bit your lip as no greeting left the prince’s lips, him only staring at you with an unreadable expression on his angular face. “Are… are you well, my prince?” You asked, daring to step closer and take hold of his arm to examine if he was truly well. 

You watched as his lips parted and closed, no sound leaving it. “Perhaps you should find some shade; the heat may be too unbearable,” You say quietly and never take your hold off his arm, guiding him towards the shade of a willow tree in concern. Aemond was screaming at himself on the inside, hating that he was making a fool of himself, that he couldn’t even speak, simply letting you guide him towards the shade and making him sit on a bench. Your concern for his well-being consumes your face and his being. “Do you wish for refreshment, perhaps w—“ Aemond shook his head as he finally regained his senses. 

You chewed on your cheek as the prince stood. “I am fine; I apologize for the— the intrusion, Lady Tyrell,” He said stoically, and you shook your head and smiled at him. “No need for apologies, my prince; no intrusion was made. But are you certain that you are well… you look a bit pale, my prince.” You say and quickly regret it as your mind reminds you that maybe that was just his true complexion. You swallowed thickly as you saw him pursed his lips, fearing that you had offended the prince. Aemond did not know how to take this concern— this kindness that he was never the receiver of. “I am quite well; good day, my lady.” He walked away in haste as he feared that if he stayed longer in your presence, he would make a further fool of himself. You stood there in confusion; your lips parted as the prince almost ran from you. 

The thought of you haunted Aemond until the night, his arm still tingling from where you had placed your touch. He replayed the scene in his mind over and over again, trying to convince himself that your concern was fictitious— that it was a ploy to be in the good graces of the prince. But as he recalled the way your eyes bore into his, nothing but sincerity was evident in your orbs. How are you this kind? To a stranger, no less. Aemond was restless as he lay in his bed; his mind kept conjuring your interaction in the gardens, refusing him any other thought than you. 

When morning came, Aemond had made great lengths to avoid you, silently embraced as he had made a fool of himself in the gardens. As his training ended, Aemond tried to find reprieve from the loud keep in the library. Aemond believed he was successful in his avoidance of you, but as he stood by the threshold of the silent room, he saw, as you were seated in one of the chairs, a book in your hand as you silently read. His presence was still not noticed. He could easily slip away and be successful in his avoidance of you, yet, just like the other days, his body could not help but be pulled towards you. 

When you noticed a presence standing before where you sat, you flickered your gaze upward and locked eyes with the prince once more. “Prince Aemond,” You acknowledge and move to stand to greet him, but he silently raises his hand and hinders your actions. You copied his silence as he took the seat across from you. You traveled your gaze through the library, uncertain what to say or do. “I hope you are feeling better,” You say quietly. Aemond licked his lips as he was subjected to your dazzling presence once more; even though he had willed himself to avoid it, it seemed you were inevitable. 

“I am; I was simply tired,” He said, making certain to place coldness in his tone, hoping it would deter you and no longer present him with your kindness he stubbornly took as deception. Aemond felt his breath catch as you gave him another smile. A relieved smile for his well-being that was so genuine that he could not stubbornly convince himself that it was not. 

You stayed silent as you felt that that was what the prince preferred. You tried to return to your reading, but his velvety voice sounded through the room. “What business did you have here?” He asked. Aemond was testing you, presenting you with his cold and calloused self to see if it would have any effect on you just like it did the other. He watched calculatingly as your lips parted, and he found trouble to remove his gaze from your plush lips. “If I am being honest, I am not quite certain, my prince.” You said truthfully. You watched him raise his brow at you to explain further. “My father has business he needed to tend to here, but he had not disclosed to me the reason for it or why I needed to join.” Aemond nodded and watched as your eyes were never removed from his gaze, surprised that you could hold onto his intensified stare. 

“So you have no purpose here?” He asked harshly. He expected a frown or a look of offense on your face, but he watched as you smiled as if you were amused and shrugged, “I suppose not.” Aemond stayed silent and continued to asses you as you returned to your reading. 

“Do you like philosophy, Prince Aemond?” You asked after a stretch of silence, unable to bear the eerie and suffocating quiet. Aemond took a moment before he answered your query that no one had been interested in asking him before. “I do,” Another small smile appeared on your lips as you nodded. “Then have you perhaps read this? I have been mulling over the proposition of the archmaester for days now, but I cannot seem to comprehend it fully,” You say and turn the book you read towards him. Your fingers brushed as the prince took the book from your hands, and you could not hinder the chill that ran down your spine as you felt his cold, calloused fingers against yours. 

You listened earnestly as the prince began to speak and explain the proposition you had trouble comprehending, going to great lengths to explain his thoughts on it, assisting and receiving any questions you had. Aemond paused in his explanation, feeling as if his mouth had gone dry by his prolonged speaking. He turned to the window and saw as the once high sun began to set; he returned his gaze to you, your chin resting on your palm as you had listened to his every word, clinging onto every syllable he had uttered. Aemond gulped as he realized his mistake. He had revealed too much of him; too much of his thinking was poured out in his explanation of philosophy. “I must take my leave,” he suddenly said, disregarding that he was in the middle of explaining another philosophical theory that was different from the first you had inquired about. 

“Oh,” You said and straightened in your seat. Aemond wanted to frown as he detected disappointment in your tone and eyes. That cannot be, can it? Why would anyone be disappointed in his departure? “Good day, my prince,” You curtsied as you stood, not wanting to take more of his time. Aemond began to walk away, cursing himself for his actions, but he halted by the door as you spoke. “Thank you for your explanations… they were quite enlightening,” You said, and Aemond turned to you; the smile returned to your lips as you looked at him gratefully. Were you truly thankful? Thankful for him? Was that even a possibility? Aemond gave a curt nod and willed himself to walk away from you. 

You were in the gardens once again. You were terribly homesick, and the gardens of the Red Keep were the only resemblance of your home that you could cling to. You were walking distractedly, a buzzing bee following you around as the flowers in your hair attracted the insect. You tried to squat it away, afraid to get stung when you accidentally missed a step, losing your balance, and were met with the cobbled floor of the gardens. Your jaw slacked in pain, and you tried to stand, your cheeks burning in embarrassment that someone may have seen your ungraceful fall. There was a stone by your side, and you tried to hoist yourself upon it, hissing as you accidentally placed pressure on your swollen ankle, but you were determined to stand and walk back to the keep to ask for assistance.   

Unbeknownst to you, Prince Aemond had been observing you from above the gardens, and the moment he saw the sight of you falling, he made hastened steps to reach you. “My lady,” He called, trying to hide his panting, and approached you as if he had only stumbled upon your presence. You sat before a rock, and he noticed you hiding your injured limb from his view, “My prince,” Aemond watched in slight awe as you still tried to stand and curtsied before him, still holding onto formalities even though you were clearly hurt. 

“Are you well?” This time, it was now Aemond to ask the question. You placed a tight smile on your lips, pretending that your injury was not at all bothering you. “I am fine, and you, my prince?” You asked, trying to speak of pleasantries. You shifted your weight on your uninjured leg and, for once, hoped that the prince would leave. “Are… are you certain?” Aemond inquired, wondering why you would pretend. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, and Aemond narrowed his eye. 

You sighed and placed your head on the ground. “I… I tripped, and I think my ankle is injured— but I do not wish to bother you, my prince. I can wait for the swelling to subside.” Aemond frowned at your words. How were you so concerned about his well-being but not your own? Aemond shook his head and stepped closer to you, silently scooping you in his arms. “Wh— My prince!” You said in shock as you were stiffly settled into the hold of Prince Aemond. Your arms circled around his neck to stabilize yourself. “You don’t— I could have just waited for a squire or maid to assist me,” You said in a slight panic and could not even bear to look at the prince in embarrassment. “You are clearly in pain,” Was all he said as he carried you back inside the castle walls, the both of you earning strange glances from the members of the court. 

Aemond returned you to your assigned chambers, trying to ignore the erratic beating of his still heart and the tingles on his skin from where he felt your touch. He placed you gently onto a settee, inhaling a whiff of your scent, and he felt intoxicated. He placed a respectable distance between you as the both of you waited for the maester he ordered a squire to fetch. Your gaze was still planted on the floor, and Aemond noticed the flush on your cheeks and the harsh bit you had on your lip, embarrassment clearly evident in you. 

“I did not wish to bother you, my prince.” You say quietly, your tone heavy with guilt. Aemond could only hum a response, clueless as to why you were apologizing. The maester finally arrived, and Aemond stood by the side as he oversaw the maester, tending your injury. You tried to keep your pained reactions to a minimum as you felt conscious of the prince’s presence, but you could not help but hiss in pain, and your face contorted in discomfort as the Maester tried to move your injury. Aemond swallowed thickly as he himself was overcome with a phantom pain by the mere observation of yours. 

“Will it heal, maester?” He asked in concern, stepping forward. “Yes, my prince, it is only a swollen ankle; it shall heal by the morrow,” The old man spoke and stood, placing a cold, damp towel upon your injury, and you reached forward to secure its place. Aemond gave a nod, and his eye followed the maester who exited your chambers, leaving the door open. Aemond returned his gaze to you, your eyes finally meeting his, and he once again felt his breath caught in his throat as you smiled at him. 

“Thank you for your assistance and kindness, my prince,” You say gratefully, and Aemond felt his knees weak. No one had ever called him kind before. As always, you were met with his silence, but you dared say you were getting used to it. After a few moments of Aemond trying to comprehend your words, he gave a curt nod. “I shall leave you to rest; good day, my lady.” He said and willed himself to walk away from your presence he did not wish to leave. 

Another day had passed, and Aemond had not seen a glimpse of your presence he had been trying to avoid just the day before. He had the urge to knock upon your door and to see how you were faring with your recovery, but he placed great restraint on himself as his mind deemed it inappropriate. So he waited another day. He stood by the gardens, his eye assessing every passerby as he waited for you. He had been stood by the balcony like a statue for the better part of the morning, but your presence had not been noted. 

Aemond decided to walk around the castle, passing along every corridor in search of you and ready to act surprised as you two would eventually encounter once more. It was nearing sundown, and he had not seen a glimpse of you. Perhaps she is still resting. His mind told him, but Aemond was not entirely sold by that reasoning. 

The prince attended his family’s supper in his mother’s chambers. He sat quietly in his seat and saw the aggravated and tired faces of his mother and grandsire as they came to the table late. “We apologize for our tardiness; the small council has been overburdened by a matter.” The queen explained as she took her seat. “What matter?” Aemond asked, always curious about the dealing made. “The crown cannot afford to pay the dues it owes to House Tyrell… it is too great a sum, and the lord has threatened to withhold back crops for the upcoming winter if we do not pay their price.” The hand spoke, and Aemond pursed his lips, knowing that the debt to your house had been since the time of the conqueror. 

“Surely they could be reasoned with— they would not want to offend the rulers of Westeros,” Aemond said quietly and heard his mother sighed deeply. “Perhaps, but no meetings and negotiations can be made at the moment, for they had already left late last night.” Aemond’s hold on his fork tightened as he heard the words. You had gone without even a goodbye.

“I just do not know what we can offer to match their hefty sum,” the lord hand said and downed his wine. Aemond traveled his gaze around the table, his sibling not at all listening to the matter. “Offer me,” Aemond spoke, and he felt all eyes shift toward him. He turned to his mother, the queen’s lips agape in shock at his words. “The crown does not have money to pay our debt— then is it not a custom to offer marriage instead?” He asked rhetorically; the practice was made for centuries, but the price was usually paid with a princess, not a prince. 

“Aemond, mere debts are not paid with a prince.” The queen said. “But it is not just a mere debt, now is it, mother? The Tyrells had as well placed a threat to the kingdom’s security over this winter— and the mere debt you speak of has been established since the age of the conqueror,” Aemond turned to his grandsire, who he knew would understand his proposition. The Hand pondered over his grandson’s words. “But you are set to marry the Baratheon girl,” Alicent countered, and Aemond scoffed. 

“We owe nothing to the Baratheons, and do you not think that this matter looms greater?” He asked, “Lord Tyrell only has a daughter, does he not? In time, the seat shall pass onto me as well, alike with the arrangements with Lord Borros. And with this, the crown will no longer be indebted to their house,” Aemond said, determined to see you once more. “That is a most favorable solution,” The hand commented, quite content by his grandson’s proposition. The queen sighed and took a moment to think of the proposal. “Very well then,” she sighed, and Aemond hindered the smirk threatening to slip his lips. 

“I shall draft the proposal tonight and send a messenger to Highgarden first thing tomorrow,” Otto said in finality. “No need, I shall offer the proposal myself in person,” Aemond said, and he saw apprehension in his mother’s eyes, disbelief by his decision, but none hindered him. 

It was afternoon the following day when he had reached High Garden, Aemond riding atop his dragon through the morning, eager to reach his destination, you. “My prince,” Lord Tyrell greeted him by the gates of their castle. “What business is so urgent that the prince of the realm had to fly his dragon all over here to the reach?” They had not even reached inside the castle walls when Lord Tyrell could no longer hinder his curiosity. 

“It is the matter of the crown’s debt,” Aemond replied, his eye scanning the halls in search of you. He heard your father reply with an ‘oh,’ clearly anticipating the conclusion of the matter. “Is the crown ready to pay us the price owed?” Aemond hummed as he passed a portrait of you hung on the wall of your home, his eye entranced by the picture. “In a way,” The prince danced upon the matter momentarily. “In lieu of a payment, the crown is prepared to offer a marriage,” Aemond stated and watched concussion flush over your father’s face. 

“With respect, my prince, but that is an insulting offer. The crown has owed my house a great sum accumulated since the age of conquest!” Lord Tyrell seethed, and Aemond gritted his jaw. “I believe you are too hasty with your outburst, my lord. The crown is offering a union between me and your daughter— an opportunity for your only child to be a princess… your grandchildren having the Targaryen name.” Lord Tyrell shook his head, “My daughter is already bound to marry another— titles are one thing, my prince, but there is still a debt to be paid.” Aemond felt the fire in his veins awaken at your father’s words. You are to be bound to another; that cannot be. You cannot be anyone else’s when you had consumed his entire being— when you had presented him with such hope and kindness that he was certain he would find in no one else. You could never be not his. 

Aemond licked his lips, certain that the words he would utter would be a gamble. “Very well then… a counteroffer, my lord. The crown cannot fully pay your price, so we offer a royal marriage and a fourth of the sum owed to you,” Aemond said, assessing the father's reaction as he mulled over the proposition. “I shall need time to reach a decision,” Lord Tyrell finally spoke after a long pause. “Of course,” Aemond agreed. “For the meantime, you are welcome to the halls of High Garden, Your Highness.” 

Aemond waited as your father disappeared from his view before he went on his search for you. He walked through the unfamiliar corridors and found himself being led outside towards the gardens where he wagered you would be. When he saw you seated by a fountain, a smirk curled on his lips. However, it was quick to fade as he had noticed you were not alone. Aemond made furious steps towards you to announce his presence. 

You were conversing with another when you felt your skin tingling and the familiarity of a cold gaze upon you. You turned to your side, and your eyes widened as you saw the prince approaching. You blinked slowly, trying to discern if your mind was playing a cruel trick. But when the prince stood an arm’s length away from you, where you could see him clearly, you knew that it was not a trick. “My prince,” You say almost breathlessly, curtsying lowly before the son of the king. 

“How… what brings you here, your highness?” You asked, disregarding the earlier presence you were with. “Business for the crown,” He replied, eyeing the man who stood beside you. You turned your eyes toward where the prince placed his gaze intensely. “Oh, my prince, this is Prince Martin Martell,” You introduced, and you felt Martin stepped forward and bowed. “Martell? Are you not a long way from Drone?” Aemond gritted as he let out his hand to shake the prince’s hand. He wanted to smirk as he saw the man’s tanned face twist into a wince before quickly masking it. “Yes, my prince, I come as a suitor for my lady,” He explained, and Aemond pursed his lips at his words. 

You licked your lips as you suddenly felt the fresh air become tense, “Would anyone like some tea?” You suddenly interrupted the intense gazes of the two princes, walking in between them as you made your way toward a nearby table that had the afternoon’s refreshments. Aemond tapped his finger on the table, his eye shifting between you and your intended whilst you poured tea into everyone’s cup. “If I may ask, what business warrants your presence here, Prince Aemond?” Prince Martin inquired, and Aemond reluctantly shifted his attention from you, who was licking sugar from your fingers. 

“A proposal for House Tyrell,” he said bluntly, swallowing thickly as your lips parted at the mention of your house. “What proposal, if I may ask,” Your turn to inquire. Aemond licked his lips and debated if he should give you the true manner of his visit. “A proposal for you, my lady, to be a princess of Westeros.” You feel dazed by his words, your body freezing in shock, and you seem to forget how to breathe. 

Aemond looked at you expectantly, trying to search for any reaction in your eyes other than the pronounced shock. You were saved from his expectation of a reply when you heard your father calling for you. “I— excuse me, my princes,” You say in a haste and hurriedly went to your father’s call. 

“What is happening— the prince just informed me of his proposal— in front of Prince Martell!” You panicked, recalling the scene to your father with wide eyes. You watched as your father paused his lips, an aggravated sigh leaving his nose. “Bold of him to inform you of such proposals when I had not even given him my reply.” You shook your head and warily turned to the gardens, where you saw two princes seated by a distance. 

“Where did this proposal come from? I… I do not understand,” You whispered, recalling your days in the Red Keep; the moments with the prince that you tried to sell to yourself were meaningless to him. However, you supposed you sold yourself with a lie because those moments were enough for him to ask for your hand. Hope was dangerously blooming in your heart, emotions, and festering feelings you tried hard not to succumb to for the past days, now inevitable. 

“The proposal comes because the crown cannot pay the debt due to us… instead, they are offering a marriage between you and the prince and a fourth of the sum owed,” The hope that was dangerously blooming and had rooted itself in your heart quickly wilted, willing yourself not to show disappointment on your face. “Oh,” Was all you could utter. “What is your decision then?” You asked quietly as your father guided you further into the walls of your home. 

“Your courtship with Prince Martell has been settled for three years since your sixteenth name day, but no formal betrothals are in place, and we are in no obligation to the Martells,” Your father stated as you two walked along the corridors. “But Sunspear is a long way from here,” Your father added, “And though Kingslanding is closer, and if I were being honest, I would prefer you to be a princess of the whole of the seven kingdoms rather than just Dorne,” You twirled with your hair as you listening into your father’s musing. “But this marriage is just a way out of their hefty debt,” You nodded along and waited for your father to decide. 

“So? Which one of them?” You asked as you needed an answer, your nerves growing unbearable. Your father took in a deep breath, “I shall leave that decision to you… it is you who shall marry one of them; the money is not truly that much of a concern— it was simply a bargaining tool for the crown to remember how indebted they were to us,” Your father explained, and your lips parted as you were given a daunting task. 

“Can I speak with Prince Aemond for a moment? I… it is— I need to speak with him,” you say, and your father gives the nod, “I shall have him meet you in the drawing room,” You waited nervously for the prince, your mind running as to what to say to him. You stood when the prince entered the room, your lips parting, ready to speak something you were uncertain of, but Prince Aemond spoke first. 

“I know this is quite abrupt,” Aemond spoke and dared to step close to you, trying not to grow distracted by your mere ethereal presence. “It is my prince,” You agreed. “Could I just ask why?” Aemond frowned at your words; it was quite a straightforward proposal. “The crown owes your house,” He said matter of factly, “I know, but we ask for coins or land but not a marriage,” Aemond licked his lips, “And I am aware that the marriage is a substitute. However, you would understand that no one would be that inclined to accept a proposal just because the one giving the proposal is in debt.” 

“Is this a rejection?” Aemond took another step, closing most of the gap between you. He was aware that he was scowling severely, scarily even, but you did not seem to be frightened, a first for anyone he had encountered. “More of a question,” Aemond’s brows raised at your words. “Well, it’s clear that this proposal is just an obligation for you, and if I am being honest… I prefer someone who would not see a mere business dealing.” 

“All marriages are business dealings,” You pursed your lips at the prince’s words. “I supposed they are… but not every marriage is just a business dealing.” Aemond licked his lips, and the both of you were enveloped in silence. “I guess what I’m saying is… I would not feel inclined to choose someone who proposes because it is their obligation,” You say slowly, surprised that you managed to come across your answer. If it were any other situation where the crown was not indebted to your house, you would accept the proposal eagerly, but your heart idealistic heart yearned for someone who wanted you truly and did not see you as a mere opportunity. 

“My lady, I think you have gotten the wrong idea here,” You furrowed your brows as all were clear to you. The proposal was just an obligation… isn’t it? “No one forced me into this proposal; the queen could not find a solution. This marriage had not even crossed her mind— I…” Aemond passed as you waited on bated breath for his explanation. “I have offered the marriage not because of duty or a way for the crown to escape their debt but because… I— I want you. I want you to be my wife.” 

You looked at him with clear apprehension, and Aemond actually believed that you would flash him your sweet smile— perhaps a blush on your cheeks as he had said words so unlike him. “You want me?” You asked incredulously, and Aemond nodded, boldly taking your hands into his. “But why? We barely know each other?” You asked. Frowning as your eyes go downwards toward your hands clasped with the prince’s cold ones. “Why?” Aemond asked in disbelief you would ask such a question? You nodded. 

“Because I just do,” Aemond licked his lips as it would appear that that was the wrong answer, watching as you stole away your hand and your lips turned into an adorable pout he was very much tempted to kiss. “I— Because you are pretty, overly pretty,” Aemond spoke and hoped that would sway your mind, but that seemed even to offend you. “And because you are knowledgeable, I have never met anyone who had the same philosophical interests as me,” Aemond quickly added, and he wanted to smile as that lessened your frown. 

“And most of all, because you are kind. You are… you are not one to judge— you came to Kingslanding without any criticism or fear of me. You actually saw me as an actual person and not…” Aemond trailed as he felt a sense of relief as he said the words he thought none could ever compel him to do so. “Not like a weapon?” You almost laughed as you often heard others allude to him as such. Aemond nodded and took your hands into his once more. 

“You want me because I was kind and took an interest in you?” You asked, making certain that was his reasoning. Aemond nodded and dared to tuck a stray hair that obstructed his view of your face. “If that is all that it took, what if then another comes along and presents you with such kindness and interest… am I simply to be set to the side?” Aemond sighed and cupped your cheek as he felt his stomach twist at your words and at the look of doubt in your enchanting eyes. “What if—“ You were ready to voice out another doubting scenario, but your lips were kissed shut. 

You feel heat bloom into your cheeks, and you are stunned as you feel the prince’s thin and cool lips upon yours. Your eyes were wide at the sudden contact, but they fluttered to a close as you savored the feel and taste of him. “I do not know what more to say to quench the doubts in you… but you must know, I have never felt such a way— I have never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want you.” Aemond whispered against your lips as you breathed heavily, your body feeling afloat and alight. 

“The situation is not the most favorable one; believe me, I understand your qualms— but it is the only opportunity I had to make you mine,” You feel liquid fill your stomach, and words cannot find you. The only thing you could do was go to the tip of your toes and kiss the prince’s lips once more, a chaste kiss than the first, but it was a kiss that gave the prince his answer. 

Three moons passed before your nuptials were settled. You stood by the door of the great hall, waiting for it to open and lead you to your soon-to-be husband. “Are you certain?” Your father asked as he clasped his arms with yours. You breathed out a laugh and nodded your head eagerly. “I am,” You said with a smile and took a deep breath as you heard the trumpets from the other side of the door. 

Aemond sighed longingly as he saw the smile on your lips again. The smile that he had never been the receiver of before. The sweet and kind smile that led to all of this. 

You beamed at your groom as he took your hand into yours, unable to remove your gaze from his unique lilac eye throughout the whole of the ceremony. “I am his, and he is mine,” You recited after the Maester, feeling Aemond lightly squeeze your hand as you said the words, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. When it was Aemond’s turn, you bit your lip as you felt your smile grow wider, your heart beating loudly in your chest, and delight taking hold of your whole body. “I am hers, and she is mine,” Aemond stated, eye filled with sincerity and promise. 

You breathed in a deep breath as your husband stepped forward to seal your marriage with a kiss, your cheeks burning as you heard the cheers of your guests. “My flower,��� Aemond whispered against your lips as you parted, his finger brushing away the stubborn lock of your hair once more. You could only smile upon him, your heart in your eyes— just one act of kindness, a simple smile had been the catalyst for you to find your love. 

You chewed on your cheek in anticipation as you were being led down the halls by your husband, the bedding ceremony promptly taking place after the feast. 

Aemond spared no second before claiming your soft, sweet lips once more. Gently pushing you upon a pillar in his chambers to keep you steady and flush against his body. “Aemond,” You called as you clung to his neck, his lips trailing downwards and his fingers undoing the laces of your gown. “You’re all mine, my flower… forever bound to me, my kind little wife.” Aemond hummed as he tasted your skin, his lips kissing your bare shoulders, the sleeves of your dress draping off. “I’m yours, my prince,” You sighed, but you felt slight dread in your stomach as he clicked his tongue in disapproval and slowly shook his head. “I am your husband… you must learn to call me by my name; no more titles and formalities,” Aemond lowly said, wanting to hear his name be uttered from your lips. 

You nodded, “I’m all yours, Aemond,” You said and whimpered as your husband’s eye darkened, and he forcefully slammed your lips. You feel your dress pool to the floor as he successfully removes it; he takes hold of one of your thighs and makes you cling to him, leading you to your shared bed. Aemond gently laid you down and parted your lips to admire the view of you sprawled before him. The thin sheet of your shift reveals all to him. 

You gasped in utter shock as you felt him tear away the thin cover you had, fully exposing you to him. A strained moan left your throat as Aemond dipped down and took one of your tits into the hot cavern of his mouth, his tongue teasing the bud. You clung to his silvery locks; just that action alone made your core tighten painfully. Aemond smirked as he moved to pay attention to the neglected mound, your hips grinding upon his as you sought friction. 

“Aemond, I…” You called, uncertain of what you wanted, but all you knew was that you needed more. “Yes, wife?” He hummed and placed open-mouth kisses upon your stomach. “I… I—“ You stuttered, not knowing what to ask. Aemond sighed and moved his head to kiss your lips, “Do you want more… do you want to be pleasure, my flower?” He asked, as he could not be so cruel to leave you in such a state for much longer. You eagerly nodded your head. 

It did not take long for you to be a moaning mess, your eyes rolled back in your head, and your back arched as Aemond placed his mouth upon your cunny. Licking and teasing your folds, “Aemond! Oh, gods!” You called in utter pleasure as you felt his thin lips enclose your sensitive bud, sucking and licking it. You battled with your mind-numbing pleasure as you propped yourself on your elbows to watch his actions. He looked up at you, grinning as his fingers teased your undefiled whole. You bit your lip and breathed heavily, boldly taking hold of the leather strap of his eye patch. You saw as his eye darkened, and you hesitated, but Aemond gave a nod. 

As you removed his eye patch, Aemond pressed his finger into you, your eyes rolling back as you saw his sapphire eye. Aemond returned his lips to your cunt, sucking on the bud as his fingers pumped in and out. He felt your walls clench around the digits and your moans growing louder. Through your closed eyes, you feel him smirk against your skin and curl the digits inside your cunt— a loud moan leaving your lips as you come undone. Your hips violently move against his face, and the pearl of your cunt hitting gains his angular nose. 

“Oh gods,” You say breathlessly as you feel Aemond’s weight atop of you. You undid the laces of his vest as he removed his trousers. You looked downwards and saw the whole of your husband, his warm, pulsating length resting upon your thigh. The head of his cock weeping a clear liquid. “W… will it fit?” You say in disbelief, never having thought that something so phallic could be so… large and appealing. “Of course, you were made for me, my flower.” Aemond lowly said and kissed your lips as he aligned himself with your cunt. 

You dug your nails onto his shoulders as he slowly tore his way through you. Him hushing your cries of pain and kissing away your tears. “It hurts— Aemond, I… it’s too much,” You cried, your legs wrapping around his waist. Aemond reached downwards and drew circles upon your cunt to aid your pain. You waited for the pain to bleed into pleasure. Aemond tightly shit his eye as he felt the tip of his cock brush against a rough spot in your cunt, him fully sheathed inside you. He made cautious thrusts, watching as you would acclimatize to his length, and when he saw your eyes roll back, that was his sign to fasten his pace. 

Aemond’s found your lips once more, muffling your moans and whimpers as his cock was relentlessly hitting the spongy spot in your cunt that made your core come undone over and over again. You were on the verge of your fourth climax, each of them coming quickly after the other, and your thighs started to shiver at the pleasure that had enveloped you fully. “Aemond… It’s too much. I— husband, I cannot,” You cried as you felt a different sensation, an odd pressure in your core unalike the other times you came. Aemond clenched his jaw as his cock twitched inside your cunt, “Just… come for me one more time, my flower,” He gritted as he wanted to coax another peak from you. 

Aemond laid his thumb flat against your nubbin and rubbed circles once more, your voice already hoarse from your loud moans. “Oh… Aemond!” You cried as the quivering of your thighs grew, and you felt the pressure in your core come undone; a differing climax from the first three overcame you. Aemond groaned loudly and tilted his head back as he spilled his seed deep in your cunt. You breathed heavily as you tried to comprehend what had happened, wetness pooling between your thighs, and an embarrassed blush spread through your cheeks and neck. 

Aemond smirked and shook his head, trying to soothe the mortification in your eyes. “I knew you were capable of it,” He hummed and kissed your lips. He knew it was perhaps too much to test your limits in your first night together, but he could not help himself; he needed to have you in such a way. “My perfect wife,” he hummed against your skin, and your reply came through your tired smile. 

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE. ( HOTD x Reader )

author note: I wanted to do HOTD x Greek Myths cause it's fun. If I get enough like or requests I'l do a HOTD x Greek Myths book on wattpad. pairing: Jealous! Aemond Targaryen x Noble Wife! Reader prompt: Aemond contemplates murder. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were supposed to marry Aegon, a way to secure allies in the North for when Aegon took the Iron Throne. But, when his Mother planned on marrying him to Helaena. Aemond swiftly made his move, knowing that the loss of an ally would upset his Mother. It was supposed to be only for duty. You were supposed to be his duty to his Mother and family. But, of course the Gods were cruel and he fell for you. Hard and fast. He practically fell flat on his face for you, like someone had punched him in the groin with a club named ‘love’. 

You were just so perfect. You were a proper Lady in the Court, weaving your way through politics with a cunning grace. You smiled and happily listened to Helaena as she rambled on about whatever popped in her mind, never judging her. You played with Helaena and Aegon’s children, always so patient with the toddler’s. You were cordial, yet stern, with Aegon⎯keeping him in line for the sake of his family when you could. You understood the want for revenge after the loss of his eye. You were just so perfect and kind. He hated how much he fell in love with you.

Watching you chat with some Lord from the Reach, Aemond grits his teeth, shifting around in place. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about you speaking to that Lord, but he would not tell you nor drag you away. He knew that you had some ambition or plan behind speaking to the Lord, one he did not know yet but knew that you would tell him soon enough. You were smart like that. 

Looking you over for any sign for him to interfere, he inspects your appearance with a subtle look of love. Your gown was more simple in feature, but a similar green to his Mother’s. Your hair is decorated with pearl and gold dragon hair clips. Your fingers decorated in rings, the sapphire one shining a particular bright. A smug smirk spreads on his lips at the sight of the ring.

“Yes, my lord husband, Prince Aemond is everything that I could ask for.” You nod, “I am content, actually I am more than content Lord Wormwood.”

“I am happy to hear that, your grace. But, I am just suggesting that…should you ever find yourself in need of some company whilst visiting the Reach⎯” Lord Wormwood suggests, making his blood boiling. 

“No, now I must return to my husband’s side.” You cut him off, eyes shifting away.

“Just a moment longer⎯” Lord Wormwood tries again, attempting to keep the conversation going.

Watching you straighten up your back and fiddle with your wedding ring, he instantly catches the subtle signal from you. You needed him. Holding his head up a little higher,  Aemond saunters over to you, attempting to hide his slightly faster walking pace than usual. Reaching your side in an instant, he gently places his hand on your hip, tucking you into his side.

“Aemond.” You whispers, a subtle glimmer of appreciation in your eyes. 

“I do believe that my wife and I have other more important matters than you, Lord Wormwood.” Aemond cuts in, his voice cutthroat. 

“I, uh, I well..” Lord Wormwood stutters out, shocked by the sight of Aemond lurking over you like some kind of protective dragon.

“Goodbye, Lord Wormwood.” You nod, dragging him away.

Feeling the tension within the room grow with each second, you softly intertwined your hands with Aemond, to prevent him from reaching for his blade. Tightening your grip on him, you start to drag Aemond away, knowing that he’d make some comment or at worst do something to Lord Wormwood. The last thing you needed and wanted was for a fight to erupt because some stupid old man couldn’t take a hint that you were married. 

“Come, come, Aemond. I am sure Helaena will be happy for us to join her.” You lie, tugging at him a little harder.

“Yes, let us go, my wife.” He nods, his voice sharp.

“Come, Aemond.” You grit your teeth, “Let us go, now.”

“Yes.” Aemond glares down the squirming Lord, like he hoped that he would burst into flames.

Cringing at the tension in the air, you tug him a little harder, struggling as he was practically glued to his spot. Sighing as he refuses to move, you press a kiss onto his cheek, using it as a way to soften him just enough to drag him away. Smirking as he instantly melts like a dragon burning a piece of wood, you drag him forcefully, weaving your way through the sea of Courtiers. 

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, a faint hum of pink on his cheeks.

“I did.” 

“You kissed me, in public.” He repeats, “You have never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I cannot exactly carry you over my shoulder to stop you from killing that man. So a kiss is what it was.” You counters back, a hint of wit in your voice.

Looking over his face in an attempt to see his reaction, he doesn’t really display any emotions, just this flatness which was typical of him. You liked to think he was born with a stone face and that Alicent had mistaken him for a statue instead of a babe. Cocking a brow up at the lack of anything from him, you softly squeeze his hand, attempting to get his attention or something from him. 

“I do not like him.” He grumbles, the disdain clear in his voice.

“Oh, really? I had no clue that you disliked him.” You jest, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“Do not jest. Tis’ not a jesting manner.” He sulks, “He propositioned you to visit his bedchambers.”

“I know, tis’ why I had you infer. I do not intend to share a bed with any other man than you. So do not even think of entertaining any doubt’s, Aemond.” You argue, quickly dismissing any doubt he may have.

He goes quiet for the longest time. It almost looked like he was actually accepting your words without any possible argument or disagreement. Relaxing for a moment, you watch as he licks his bottom lip, his eye narrowing for a moment.

“Let me kill him.” He mumbles, almost like he was begging you to allow it.

“Not in public.” You argue, not taking him seriously.

“That can be arranged.” He smiles, a rare smile tugging at his lips. 

Shaking your head with a gentle scoff, you look over his face for a moment, seeing that he was being serious. The look on your face shifting into one of annoyance. Whilst other men would have lashed out and caused a scene, Aemond was cunning and waited. Like a snake hiding in the tall grass. Smacking his arm softly, he lets out a soft snort, a cheeky little grin spreading on his face. 

“No.”

“Fine.” He mumbles, rushing away from you. “I will not be the one to do it.”

“Aemond Targaryen, don’t you dare.” You scold, chasing after him.

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[alloftheimaginesblog]

following in our footsteps {benedict bridgerton}

plot: as the wife of benedict bridgerton, you're always fixing his clothes and readjusting his collar and as your husband, he's always smoothing your dress down when you get out of the carriage... you don't realise but these traits get passed onto your children.

requested by anon

"Remember," you said as you took Benedict's hand as he helped you out of the carriage, "it's Colin's birthday, not yours, so please... let him enjoy his day without you and Anthony winding him up."

Benedict smiled at you widely, "Me? Annoy Colin? Well, I never." You rolled your eyes. Your husband, being the wonderfully kind man he was, then proceeded to circle you, smoothing your dress down if it had hitched up or gotten a little crumpled. Once finished, he stood in front of you and you straightened his lapel and his collar.

This had been a ritual for the two of you since your courting days. It started when Benedict had came to you with a bunch of flowers when he was calling on you one morning and you brushed off some petals from his shoulder and then in that same morning, he had wiped the tiniest speck of jam from your dress. Since then, the two of you had a routine in place of helping the other sort themselves out.

"Beautiful," Benedict smiled before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles where your wedding ring sat, "Right," he straightened and clapped, "come along children!"

One by one, your four children clamber out of the carriage. Charles comes first, holding his hand to help his sister Alexandra, then waits for William and lastly, the three help Violet as she was the youngest and also the clumsiest.

As the children are climbing out, you and Benedict find yourself in conversation about something else entirely and it is only when you hear the words, "Oh, honestly, Violet! You always seem to get yourself into such a muddle!" that you turn your attention to your children.

Your face stretches into a wide smile, "Ben, look."

William and Charles stood facing each other, straightening their collars, "Is that good?" They each nod before they look to Alexandra. Charles smooths down an unruly wisp of hair, tucking it behind her ear, while William smooths down the ruffles on her shoulder. Lastly, they all help their youngest sister, Violet. Charles wipes crumbs from her cheeks, Alexandra readjusts the hairband in her hair and William brushes her dress so it sits nicely.

They turn back to their parents who are... crying?

"Mama," Charles frowns, "are you well?"

You sniff, wiping your eyes with Benedict's handkerchief he handed you, "All is well, my love," you smiled, "It is just so nice to see you all looking out for each other."

"You fight like cat and dog but like your mother said, it is spectacular watching you look out for each other," Benedict smiles, clapping Charles on the shoulder.

The children don't understand the big deal, they glance at one another before Charles shrugs, "It is what we see you and Mama do each and every day. You make sure that you are both presentable and attractive, it is nice to look out for each other, is it not?"

You nod quickly, giving each of your children a kiss on the forehead, "Mama," William groans, "now we all have lipstick on our foreheads!" You laugh and hand Charles Benedict's handkerchief and one by one, they each wipe the lipstick off of each other's foreheads.

"Oh, we did good, did we not?" You ask quietly, melting into your husband's embrace.

"We certainly did." He presses a kiss to your forehead, "We really did."

[surielstea]

“Forgive me, Darling.”

Based on this request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Rhys undermines Reader in front of the Hewn City, Reader makes him grovel before she accepts his apologies.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | apology sex | dom sub dynamics | riding | oral (f receiving) | Reader making Rhys grovel | multi-orgasm | cream-pie | mating press

A. Note: This was really an excuse for me to write some Rhys smut… RhysandWeek got to me I fear, half of it is smut so enjoy 😼🙏

4.7k words

It was an effort to sit next to the High Lord tonight. Even with Winter Solstice so steadily approaching we couldn't stop being at each other's throats for the past week. The others in the Inner Circle were sick of our tedious bickering by now, and the rest of the Court might as well be too.

It was clear to the citizens of the Hewn City that we weren't getting along the best when we sat in our own separate thrones, while I typically opted to sit in Rhys' lap or he on the armrest while I took the main throne.

But it was the citizens of the Hewn City themselves that had cleaved our relationship right in two. While I was a natural sympathizer for these people, Rhys seemed to have half a thought about their well-being.

It drove me mad how easily he could cherish and love something, then turn around and loathe something else with the same fierceness. It was manipulative and vexing.

"Your grace," Keir drawled with a low bow and Rhys lifted a brow at Morrigan's poor excuse of a father.

"What is it?" The High Lord mused, the perfect mask of bored coldness in his violet eyes.

"The court was wondering if you'd be donating to the gift drive this season, all funds would go directly to the orphaned children of course," Keir said with a tone that sent shivers down my spine.

Rhys opened his mouth to say no, but I spoke first. "Of course Keir. We're not monsters," I say, tossing my mate a lethal glare.

"Are you mad? No," He looked to Keir. "I will not be donating, but you can tell them their queen will have a heavy chunk coming from her paycheck," Rhys bit back and the verbal assault immediately bruised her, tearing her down for speaking over him in a place like this was one thing but, in front of Keir? Using him as a device to get under my skin? It was a new level of low.

I bit back a snarl. "You're both insufferable," I stand. "And you bore me," I step down the dais with a careful queenlike elegance that came with only decades of practice. "I'm going home, perhaps finish some last-minute gift shopping," I shrug, my black gown shimmering like the stars in the sky with each move I made.

"I'll join you momentarily," Rhys said with a hand up as if to pause me. I didn't wait for him to finish before I winnowed back to Velaris, alone.

I was born in the Hewn City, and though I knew it was best if Rhys put on a mask in front of that court, it was hard to watch my mate who had one of the biggest hearts I'd ever seen be so cruel, be exactly what those citizens had expected him to be. A monster. A shiver went down my spine at the thought. It was a part of my role as High Lady to back whatever Rhys decided, but it was a part of his role to do the same with me. And when it came to the children of the Hewn City I drew the line, they had done no wrong, and half of them were too young to even realize that their king was a halfbreed, much less why that meant he was seen as lesser. They were innocent, doomed for failure since the beginning because of who their parents were. I sympathized with the orphans and knew exactly how much a donation would've mean to me because I used to be one of them.

Rhys winnowed into the sitting room, writhing shadows feathering off of his dark tunic as he whirled towards me, brows drawn.

"What'd you do that for?" He frowns at me and I mirror it.

"Children Rhys? Should I even dare ask when it might end?" I prop my hands up on his hips and he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

"You know how I handle those things, I tell Keir no and then donate anonymously," He explained, annunciating every word like I was hard of hearing. The tone set me off. He was right, that's how we did it every year for solstice since Rhys became High Lord.

But tonight was my breaking point after weeks of needless arguments. "Yes, Rhysand. I know." I grit my teeth and his frown deepens as he hears me use his full name, something I always did unconsciously when I wanted him out of my face.

"Then why did you say we'd donate?" He lifts a brow and my shoulders are practically up to my ears with the tension building.

"Because, Rhysand, I'm so sick of you pretending to be someone that you're not," Again, the name makes him flinch. "I know how much you're capable of loving, and I understand you trying to protect us but I can't bear seeing you so ruthless to those people," I explain and he lets out a long sigh.

"You don't seem to understand the impossible situation I'm in." He closes his eyes, needing to rest them if only for a moment.

"What don't I understand?" I grab his jacket, gently gripping it as I stare up at him. "I've been beside you every step of the way, talk to me Rhysand. Or this isn't going to work," I gesture between us and his back shoots ramrod straight, at the underlying threat of taking a break from each other. He loathed the idea, and would rather argue for the rest of his life with me than not have me in his life at all.

"Don't say stuff like that," He murmured, his voice clipped like he couldn't quite breathe right.

"Then think twice before undermining me in front of a male like Keir," I scowl. "Hewn City or not, you're not allowed to silence me." I brush past him, my shoulder ramming into his bicep as I stalk down the hall to our bedroom, shutting the door with a resounding thud, but Rhys remains pinned in the same spot, cursing himself over and over again for his foolish behavior.

Over the next few days, Rhys had done everything in his power to apologize. Giving me countless gifts, and heartfelt monologues about how sorry he was, he even donated a good portion of his gold to the Hewn City orphanage. But I didn't forgive him, because I was certain he had yet to understand how much this truly meant to me. Besides, a small part of me liked watching him grovel.

At dinner with the rest of the inner circle later that evening, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rhys had reached for my hand beneath my table twice now and I shook him off both times. We had both silently agreed on pretending everything was normal between us in front of the others, not wanting to worry them about the health of their high lady and lord relationship. So I put on a mask, as he often did, and pretended everything was fine.

"I'll see you in a few days for solstice eve," I hum as Morrigan gives me a hug while standing halfway out the door in the cold.

"I got you an amazing gift!" She beamed while backing away and I gave her an incredulous look. There was no arguing that Morrigans gifts weren't unique and personalized, but they were far from amazing.

"I'm sure you did," I hum. "Goodnight, Mor," I lean against the archway of the foyer and she gives me a wave before slipping out the door. Once everyone was officially gone I turned back to the sitting room where Rhys was sitting, staring at me curiously like I was a thing to be analyzed. "What?" I bark, my smile dropping.

"You keep calling me Rhysand," He stands from his seat, looking at me with furrowed brows, his wings drooping slightly, nearly dragging on the floor as he strides towards me but stops an arm's length away.

"That's your name, is it not? Or would you like to argue about that as well?" I arch a brow and his frown deepens.

"No, I just— It's Rhys. It's always been Rhys between us, in fact, you're the reason everyone calls me Rhys." He claims and I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my gaze on him.

"This is what has been bothering you? This? Out of everything that has been going on, me saying your full name has gotten under your skin the most?" I scowl, unbelieving of his childish behavior.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, defeated.

"I know," I state.

"Then why?" His voice wavers. "Why can't I be forgiven?" He takes another step forward, nearly closing the distance between us if it weren't for his height.

"Because I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I snarl and his brows crease, his familiar violet eyes glazing over.

"No please, I have darling," He cups my cheeks in his hands. "I have. I'm sorry." His hands were so gentle when holding my face as if I might break if he was any rougher.

I debated giving in for a moment, if only because my desire to feel his lips on mine again would be comparable to heaven— but I stayed strong, my own pride willing me to break away from his touch. "I know," I repeat, before walking down the hall and into our bedroom, closing the door behind me loud enough for him to get the hint that I didn't want to see him again that night.

A few days had passed and it was solstice eve, I was in the midst of getting ready for bed when there was a soft knock on my door. I didn't turn when the door opened, I knew who it was before he was even down the hall.

Rhys doesn't say anything, just stares as I take out my earrings and unlace my dress. I didn't mind him looking as I stripped down and changed into a soft, midnight blue nightgown, perhaps I was rubbing in the fact that he couldn't have me. Once I was finished I walked over to my vanity and began to comb through my hair.

"I can feel you staring, Rhysand." I finally spoke and I swore he growled at the name. I ignore it. He pushes off the doorframe and enters the room.

"What can I do it make it better?" I turn towards him to find him directly behind me, looking down at me with beseeching eyes. "I'm begging you," He whispers, our proximity so close that his nose was brushing against mine.

"You're begging me?" I raise a brow.

"Gods, yes darling. Do you want me to get on my knees and plead?" He suggests and I just stare at him as a reply, waiting.

His brows raise a fraction when he realizes I'm serious, and I cross my arms impatiently. It takes him a moment, but eventually, he drops down onto his knees.

His hands come to my hips and he looks up at me, his chin propped up on my stomach as he lets out a soft, "Please."

"Please what?" I place my hands on his shoulders, one of them finding its way into his dark, midnight-black hair.

"Please, forgive me." He murmurs. "Please, don't make us take a break." He continues, his hands on my hips tightening slightly. "And please, let me love you the way you deserve."

He had once told me he'd only ever fall to his knees for his crown, yet here he was, bending for me with only sincere affection in his eyes and regret forever making me feel like he deserved this.

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up, crashing his lips onto mine. I kiss him, deeply, with the passion and desire that had been building up for the past week. I had forgotten how addictive he was and didn't realize how badly I needed him until he leaned into the kiss and filled the gaping void inside of me with warmth.

"I missed you so damned much, darling," He sighs and I smirk against his lips.

"Yeah?" I slip from his grasp and take a seat on the bed. "Why don't you come over here and show me?" I purr, letting my legs fall open as he prowls towards me and again, gets down onto his knees.

I smile devilishly at him as he begins kissing and nipping at my thighs, beginning to make amends with his mouth rather than words.

His covetous hands slip beneath my short nightgown, gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I lay back onto my elbows, propped up enough to watch him as he made his way up my thighs.

Ever so gently, he pulls at my undergarments and I lift my hips for access so he can further slip the panties down my legs. With reverence his eyes flick down to my glistening core, then back up to my eyes, his gaze holding a certain emotion I don't think I've ever seen the High Lord hone before.

I nod my head and he wastes no time before placing an open mouth kiss to my folds, then dragging it through my slit in a slow, savoring lap. I let out a soft moan at the feeling of his warm tongue finding my clit with a languid stroke. My fingers weave into his hair as he begins to suck on the bundle of nerves, sending me into a spiral.

I looked down at him but he was already staring up at me. But once he sees my lustful expression he can't seem to control himself before he dips down and spears his tongue into me. I release a breathy moan at the intense feeling. How could I have ever robbed myself of this for so long? Gods it was evil the things he could do with that mouth.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he devoured me like a man starved, his tongue-twisting and curling against a sensitive spot that sent me closer to the edge. I was unable to stop myself from grinding up onto his face, and he let out a guttural groan as I did so, because he knew then that I wanted him, that he was making me feel this good.

I maintained eye contact with him as he continued to drive me wild, violet irises filled with both apologies as well as desire. He draws one of my legs over his shoulder to deepen his access and I pull at his hair.

"That's it, gods yes," I gripe as his tongue toys with the sensitive area nestled deep inside of me.

My head falls back to look up at the ceiling as he brings one of his hands down and his thumb begins to roll over my clit. I whimper at the stimulation, my toes curling as he begins rubbing tight circles. I buck my hips at the intense feeling and he groans against the feeling of me tugging on his hair, the sound reverberating up my spine. "That's my girl," He purrs as my release steadily approaches. "Come on my face, fall apart for me my darling," He says, his voice tender as he coaxes your climax to draw closer.

I couldn't deny his demand, my pleasure too high to even debate it. My peak reaches and with a cry, my body convulses and an intense wave of pleasure crashes through me. He supports me, his arms around my thighs grounding me, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his tongue from my entrance and softly laps up my dripping folds, his mouth shimmering in my essence. But it was only pride in his eyes as I came down from my high that I recognized, pride and, something far more primal than human.

"I forgot how good you taste," He whispers against my core, cleaning every lost drop from me with his mouth.

Slowly, he backed away, licking his lips that were glistening in my arousal.

"I want to ride you," I confess and his brows shoot up with carnal desire. Yes, that was exactly what I wanted.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed, his head falling into the pillows as I flipped over him and began working at the buttons of his shirt.

His hands joined mine, helping me by thrashing it off. I smile and attach my lips to his tanned skin, my tongue running over the lines of his tattoo while he frees himself from the confines of his pants. My mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock already leaking with need. I bite at my lower lip as I grip his length, spreading his pre and using it as a natural lubricant. I pumped him once, then twice. My grip was rough and tight, his head fell back into the pillows as he groaned in pleasure.

"Oh, my darling," He sighs out as I press my thumb to his sensitive tip.

His hands come to my thighs as I lift onto my knees and begin dragging his cock through my folds, prepping him for an easy entrance. I swore he got harder the moment my arousal met his.

He looked back at me, his eyes low-lidded. "You look like a goddess," He breathes, his voice husky with restraint. I knew he wanted to push me down onto him, to take dominance and flip me onto my back. But he reigned in his control and kept himself at bay for now.

I smile devilishly at him as I aligned his throbbing cock with my entrance. His eyes flicked down to the view and I froze. "Look at me," I direct and his violet eyes flick back up to my gaze, and I watch his expression as I sink myself down to him so very slowly, inch by inch.

His face contorts into a mix of pleasure and agony. "This is torture," He hisses, his fingers digging into my thighs in an effort to keep restraint. "Please, darling," He whispered the plea and I couldn't help but fold under his yearning gaze.

"Please what?" I say through a soft moan, the stretch of him painful at first yet turned into pure pleasure moments later.

"Please, take all of me and move, now baby," He pants out and I smirk.

"I'm barely halfway down and I've got you this worked up?" I tilt my head demeaningly and he lets out a low, guttural growl.

"You know exactly what you're doing to me, so please, you can take it," He begs and I smile.

"I know I can, but can you?" I murmur, tracing lines along his torso, following his dark tattoo.

"Oh I can," He sighs, his eyes glinting with amusement and I realize he wasn't strained from needing more, he was in agony because his control was thinning. "But if you don't take all of me right now, I'm going to flip us over and fuck you until we both forget our own names." He warns and I smirk, leaning forward— in doing so making him slip deeper inside of me, the new angle eliciting a soft moan from me.

"Is that right?" I purr, my nails trailing down the side of his neck.

"Last chance, baby." His jaw feathers. "Sit down or I'm taking over," He snarls, gripping my hips tighter, prepared to make true of his threat. I smile, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

I do as he says anyway, not wanting to take any chances. I let gravity make my last movement and allow myself to take all of his length, every last inch until he was fully sheathed inside of me and I was seated on him fully.

He lets out a long, deep moan, his head falling back into the pillows. "Gods, such a good girl," He praises, taking a few deep breaths and regaining his control.

Slowly I begin to rock my hips back and forth over him and he jerks at the movement, his hands tightening on my thighs as he begins to guide me over him, showing me exactly how fast he wanted me to go.

He lets out a string of curses as I set a pace, rolling and grinding over him, my thighs already burning with the movements. "Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" he says and I nod, as he slowly lifts me up on him, then pushes me back down, sending me into a rhythm. I began to bounce up and down on him, his thick length burrowing deep inside of me with each descent.

I keep eye contact with him, tears welling in mine as he lifts me faster, my breasts bouncing with the movement, and his captivating eyes don't miss it. "So beautiful," He whispers softly, his voice hoarse and strained as a string of moans escapes me.

"You like that baby?" He purrs, his gaze only sultry. I reply with a moan and a wicked smile forms over his lips as he pushes me to go faster, slamming me down into his hips, his tip brushing over my cervix.

He was enjoying this far too much, he was savoring the way I sounded, the way my body reacted. So desperate for a second release. I lean down, changing the angle and allowing him to hit my most sensitive point with the thick head of his cock.

"Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me like this," He purrs, his breath hot against my neck as his canines scrape against it.

I continue to fuck myself on him, my vision blurring as he abuses that sacred spot inside of me. "I'm close," I grunt, clenching my hands into fists as he spears into me, lifting his hips to help me reach that high.

"Yeah? Going to come, love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod, tears now slipping down my cheeks despite all my efforts to be in control.

"Yes, I can't control it much longer," I mewl, burying my nose into the crook of his neck.

He smiles, wrapping his arms around me. "That's okay, come for me darling," He allows and I find release, I finally meet my second orgasm.

"Rhys," I moan loud enough for the next room over to hear. Not Rhysand, but Rhys. The male's length twitches at the sound he so desperately had been needing to hear for the past week.

He didn't let me come down from my high for even a moment as he flipped me over onto my back, taking full control as he guided my legs up to my sides, folding me into a mating press.

"I'm not done with you yet, darling," He drawls huskily and my heart pounds against my ribs hard.

He pulls out to his tip and for a moment I'm gifted a kernel of relief, but it quickly ended when he pushed into me, spearing hilt deep as his heavy balls slapped into my ass. Arousal dripped down my thighs as he continued the movement and I turned into a moaning mess.

"You're so tight," He grunted out between thrusts. "Say my name again," He orders and I open my teary eyes to see him above me, his dark wings spread over us. Gods, he looked like a fucking devil like this. "Rhys," I plea and he smiles wolfishly.

"That's my girl, taking me so well," He praises, continuing to piston inside my puffy, overstimulated cunt.

He reaches down and I swear my heart stops as he makes contact with my pink clit. I whimper, my bottom lip wobbling as he pushes me towards yet another orgasm. "Come on baby, squeeze my cock," He demands and I writhe beneath him, clenching every inch of his length as he brushes my cervix repeatedly. His words and groans are a constant stream of encouragement as I hurtle toward my third orgasm.

I let out a loud, broken cry as my climax rips through me, each one more intense than the last. "Please, please tell me you're close," I beg as he lets out a choked groan, his movements becoming more and more erratic as control slips from his grasp. "Fuck, I am baby, I'm close," He pants out and I mewl his name desperately.

"Rhys, Rhys," I murmur like a chant, my mind too fucked out to think of anything else, just him.

"Look at me, I want you to watch while I come inside of you." He purred and my stomach twisted at his filthy words. My hands come around to his shoulders and I dig my nails into the muscle, clawing them down his back at the intense, unrelenting thrusting.

With a feral, desperate groan he buries his nose into my neck and finds his release, his warm seed spilling inside of me.  He shakes and trembles at the weight of his climax, he collapses down onto me, his body heavy and spent. His face was still buried in my neck as he regained his breath. "Fuck, I love you so much," He confesses as the sounds of our breathing fill the room.

"I love you, too," I whisper hoarsely, my voice shot from screaming his name. He nuzzles into my neck, placing gentle kisses along my collarbone slowly guiding my legs down and pulling from my entrance. "I'm sorry baby, I know you wanted to be in control but I— I can't help myself around you," He murmurs and I smile, pulling him into me for a loving kiss.

"Don't apologize, felt so good," I murmur tiredly. "Maybe we should argue more often," I add and he frowns at the idea and I giggle. "I missed you."

His eyes light up with pure adoration. "I missed you too," He hums, easing into the bed beside me and gathering me into his arms. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

The rush of solstice has passed and everything has returned to normal— well, almost everything.

The Court of Nightmares was teeming with its usual negative energy, the air thick with it. I had been seated in my own throne again, not quite ready to take up Rhysand’s lap in front of all the subjects again.

“My Lord,” Keir bowed low before the dais, then turned to me and gave me a simple bow of his head. Rhys gripped the arms of his throne at the action but remained calm all the same.

“What?” The high lord snarled.

“The price of the renovations of the homes in the slums are steadily increasing, to something far greater than what we can afford with the money you’ve so graciously given.” He hums and I sit up. I grew up in the slums, I would’ve taken a man’s life for the opportunity to proceed with the renovation plans I had given Rhys a few days ago, would’ve taken a lot more than a life to give to that community, actually.

“Then we’ll triple the funds,” I state and Keir casts me a glance, then looks back to Rhys. I wanted to rip his face off. I was seated on a throne before his people, I had the power to tear this entire court down and yet he treats me with such disrespect and contempt.

“Why are you still here?” Rhys asked the steward. “My High Lady has just answered your issue, did she not?” Rhys tilts his head with creased brows.

“Of course, my lord,” Keir bows to the male, and something in his spine locks and I know, know that Rhys’s talons had captured Keirs mind and was prepared to shatter it, until Keir turned to me and bowed at the waist, then lower, nearly falling to his knees.

“Dismissed.” Rhys hummed, waving his hand and releasing the males mind.

I smile as I watch him leave, and settled a little deeper into my throne. Oh, I liked this a little too much.

A flicker of Rhysand’s darkness curled caressed up my neck, to trace the contours of my jaw. I turn to look at him and give him a wicked smile, he mirrors it and we turn back to the Nightmare of a court we ruled over, together.

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[liahaslosthermind]

𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

Summary: Azriel sits by himself, watching as she is surrounded by dancing children. Unbecoming of an Illyrian warrior, he just can’t gain the courage to speak to her. But when an intoxicated male walks up to her, looking for trouble, he might just have no choice but to make an introduction.  A/N: This is a fic I wrote and posted about 3 years ago now. I decided that some of my older pieces (though I'm still proud of 15/16 year old me for writing) need a facelift, so here is part of that process. I did the same with Betrayal and have been so much happier writing for it, so I hope you enjoy this one too! The original request (from September of 2022!) is down below, but I didn’t really stick to the prompt much. Request: Well...how about something where Azriel sees the fae reader dancing in Velaris (like a Tangled sort of dance) and she catches his eye. Later on he sees her while he is taking Feyre around town. The fae woman is with a bunch of younglings because she is a teacher. She smiles at him and feyre then and his shadows just shoot out towards her but not to hurt, just to play with her. He is shocked when she is friendly with the shadows and he finds out that when they aren't with him, they play with her. Just something really cute about azriel falling for her as he moves on from mor.

It was unfair. It was absolutely unfair.

The infamous Spy Master of the Night Court, the formidable Shadowsinger, was currently pouting at his family’s now empty table at a Starfall Ball the High Lord and Lady were hosting. Maybe pouting wasn’t the right word, if anyone looked at him they would see no emotion on his face. His family might say he was brooding, but it was a little more pathetic than that. The last standing bachelor Bat Boy watched while the rest of his family, either with a date or already mated, danced with their partners. To be fair, the Ilyrian could easily find someone to dance with. While seemingly unapproachable unless one had a death wish, Azriel was still the most sought after man wherever he went, even before his friends had found their mates. But there was only one who he wanted to dance with, and she was currently partnered with about 8 small children.  

It all had started one day at the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Needing supplies for Starfall decorations, Feyre had asked Azriel to join as another pair of arms to carry bags. She hadn’t really needed his help, but the High Lord and Lady had gotten into an argument about which flowers would look best as centerpieces. So, naturally, she thought asking the Shadowsinger to accompany her instead of her mate would piss Rhysand off. While Azriel hadn’t wanted to join in on the argument, he couldn’t deny a request to make his brother mad. 

Azriel had been sitting outside of the cafe Feyre was currently trying to place a rather large order at when he first saw her. In a crowd of giggling Velaris children, she sat in a chair and animatedly read a story. Usually, the sight would upset the Spy Master, at least a little. Even after 500 years, Azriel never stopped feeling jealous when seeing children happily existing in their bubble of love and comfort. He always wondered what it would have been like for him, had his childhood been one with his mother and away from his father’s abuse. Away from that dark cell. 

This time though, he found himself too enamored with the fae woman reading aloud to think about what was stolen from him. Her excitement, easily matching the children’s, and her smile and flushed cheeks made his heart skip. 

From then on, Azriel often found an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes her classes remained inside, in which he would leave a few shadows to monitor, for safety reasons, of course. But when she took her class of preschool aged children elsewhere, or when she ran after school programs for various other ages, Azriel would find himself nearby. Although, it sounded bad when you put it like that. He wasn’t stalking her, he just… alright maybe he was a little. Maybe he was head over heels, maybe he was healing this inner child, it didn’t matter, because he would never do anything about it. 

Back at the table, Azriel had been too caught up in the patheticness of his situation to notice a drunkard had come up to her. A familiar tug on his shadows and suddenly he watched as the man started to get handsy as the female tried to push him off. If that hadn’t been disgusting enough, the man also pushed a child that had tried to help her. Blood boiling, Azriel had only made it a few steps in to try and grab the pig when he was stopped in his tracks, watching as she landed a swift and powerful elbow to the male’s face, sending the creep stumbling back. 

Huh. 

He wouldn’t have guessed Velaris’ beloved preschool teacher would be able to take down a very large, drunken, adult male with such ease, but here she was. 

Seeing as the situation was handled on her part, Azriel started to walk over to the man when his shadows started to tug at him again. 

Deal with him later, Master. We will keep an eye on him, they sang. 

Unsure of what they could have wanted Az to do in the moment other than deal with the asshole, he began to half heartedly fight their tugging. That was till he realized where they were trying to lead him, straight to the teacher. Immediately, Azriel stopped moving, desperately protesting the shadow's intervention. 

She had immediately sent the kids back to their parents after her attacker had disappeared to who-cares-where. It had been a long and exciting night for her, from coming with friends to doing some overtime babysitting when she saw her students’ parents in need of a quick break to enjoy the holiday. She hated that the male had spoiled her mood, but she was determined to not let it spoil her night. Walking off the dance floor, she made plans to go home and settle down with a glass of wine and a book when something caught her foot, sending her straight into the arms of the Night Court’s very own Shadowsinger. 

Azriel cursed his shadows as he realised far too late that if he wasn’t willing to go to the female, they were going to bring her to him. Purposefully tripping the poor girl just trying to leave the dancefloor, he had been lucky, or unlucky, enough to have caught her before she fell. Where had these reflexes been the rest of the night?

It took her a few moments to right herself before she looked up at her knight in shining armour. Finally registering who it had been, the gratitude on her tongue died and was replaced by apologies. 

The change in attitude gave Azriel whiplash. How she could go from elbowing a man in the face with little remorse to becoming completely flustered after accidentally tripping into his arms was beyond Az’s comprehension at the moment. He was far too stuck on the fact that she was talking to him, nevermind that the only reason she was doing so was because his traitorous shadows had tripped her. He imagined his cheeks were just as red as her’s at the moment.

Cauldron help him.

She was blushing.

Because of him. 

And he was blushing. 

Because of her. 

For the first time in a very long while, Azriel felt weak in the knees because of his feelings. Last time he had felt even somewhat close to such an emotion was with Mor, but that feeling had faded so long ago he forgot how intoxicating and horrifying it could be. 

As she searched his face for any anger, all she saw was confusion, and that he seemed to be as flustered as she was. 

“Um, hello?” she asked. After multiple apologies, she had asked if he was alright, to which no answer was given. She watched as it seemed to take a few moments for him to register her words. 

“How did you do that?” He was all he replied. 

“Trip into you? Well I kind of just walked over here and it happ-”

“No, take down that man. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Oh! well, just- you know, picked up any lessons I could get. Thought it would be better to know how to since I spend so much time teaching children.” 

Azriel remained silent for a beat. Just kept staring as the song began to change into a slower one. Seeing as her usual company of children had dispersed, giggling while watching couples dance, he took the moment to finally ask the question weighing on his mind all night.

“Would you like to dance with me?” 

He watched as she laughed, presumably catching the fear and anticipation in the Spy Master’s voice. Fortunitally, before he could get too into his head about the action, she stuck her hand out for him to grab. As he led her back to the floor, as they started to sway, it felt… different. 

Like their bodies fit perfectly against one another, as if the two had done this many times before, as if they both belonged there, in each others’ arms. 

Neither wanted to ever leave.

A/N part 2: The original story is about 700 words while this is double that, but if you are curious, I've linked the original post. It is... rough

[missswritesalot]

Small Victories

Daemon finally convinces his brother to let him wed Lord Lyonel Strong’s half Targ daughter, Lady Y/N Strong. All it took was the proof of their coupling.

Curious eyes followed the rogue prince as he walked across the halls of the Red Keep.

Daemon didn't care though, he disrupted the lords of the council and pestered Viserys until they were left alone.

“You’re aware that I want Y/N, your ward.” Daemon said.

He was sick and tired of being told he couldn't have you for his bride. There was nothing that inspired his ire more than the letters to the crown asking for your hand, the hand he felt belonged to him. And this godforsaken council was planning on the most suitable match for their own ambition.

Only Lord Lyonel Strong, your father, had a speck of good intention in his heart. He didn't, however have any authority over your wedding, as the late Queen Aemma had taken a liking to you when you were a child. Your mother had been a prominent bastard Targaryen daughter and the Queen felt an especially close responsibility towards you. You became Rhaenyra's closest companion and upon the queen's death, the ward of the King.

Daemon was thrilled when this happened, could he finally have you for himself? All these years, right under his nose, you had blossomed into the finest young woman fit to be a princess. Aemma would’ve never allowed him to wed you, but Viserys might.

So last night after you left Rhaenyra's chambers and returned to your own, Daemon found you.

It didn't take more than him bolting the door behind him and telling you to take your dress off. His little bird was more than eager, considering that she'd been waiting for this all her life. Her very own Targaryen prince, a part of her identity that decided her life yet lay just out of hand’s reach.

"She's been thoroughly bedded by me, brother." Daemon smirked. He unfurled the ball of fabric in his hand to reveal sheets suggestively streaked with blood. Presumably your maidenblood.

Viserys laughed nervously. Daemon wouldn't dare! Or would he? Anger bubbled within him. This wasn't one of the maidens that the madame of a whorehouse reserved for his brother! Her father was one of the men on the King's Small Council. His own Queen wife had once looked upon this girl as a daughter.

"You dishonor my ward like this?" The King spat out. "This is all a jest to you, Daemon, but you are lucky there is no audience, because if there were one, I'd have your tongue for what you're suggesting." He threatened.

"I am making no suggestion, brother. It is but the truth. I have claimed her. Her maidenblood is spilled, now she is mine and you will give her to me to take to wife." Daemon said calmly. He didn't want to be too demanding.

"And was she receptive to your advances?" Viserys asked sarcastically. He didn't believe a word out of Daemon's mouth, but a growing fear in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.

"I made her willing," Daemon said quietly. He couldn't risk marring the reputation of his future wife, and by extension his children, by proclaiming her a wanton whore. But he couldn't very well claim he had forced her into it, not with her whole family at court who would forever detest the Prince. Not to mention the rapers he had gilded with the city watch.

"If she hears of your cruel jest- I don't doubt she will swoon." Viserys shook his head, still unbelieving. Daemon crumpled up his trophy into a ball again and tucked it under his arm.

"For safekeeping. Quite a souvenir." Daemon said and chuckled.

"Have Lady Y/N brought before me," Viserys ordered one of the guards that lingered by the door. That man was pink faced and nervously looking at his feet, and jumped upon being addressed. In his good mood, Daemon laughed out loud.

"I'd rather you didn't, brother. Leave her be, and consent that she be my bride." Daemon said.

"And why should she not be here to listen to your slander? Smearing pigs blood to claim she is maiden no longer? I'd like to give Y/N a chance to speak on her behalf." Viserys said, he held up his finger.

"She's still abed," Daemon lied easily. In truth he had found his woman curled into his side this morning. He woke to her gentle touch, and shy questions as she asked if it wouldn't be too indulgent to receive such a pleasure in the light of the day. He'd done a good job and left her so thoroughly ravaged she could scarcely remember her name. She was probably in Rhaenyra's chambers now, hunched over tapestries, and recounting stories of her passionate night while the girls around them burst into giggles. The picture of it brought a smile to Daemon's face.

"You mean this, Daemon?" Viserys asked, finally believing the Prince. He needed to contain this incident before it grew and took legs. "Will this make you happy, brother?"

"More than anything."

"Have Ser Lyonel Strong brought in," he ordered the guard. "And ser Harwin, if he is within the walls."

The men appeared quickly, and looked apprehensively at Daemon. Ser Harwin of the city watch was more at ease than his father.

"'My brother is a Targaryen Prince, won the crown at the Stepstones and is a bachelor after the demise of this Lady wife, the seven rest her soul." Viserys announced to them. "He is every maiden's dream, or so they tell me."

"I am not unaware that it is my perjury that decides the hand of your daughter, Lady Y/N Strong. Therefore I have found a suitable match, my own brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen. Only the finest for her, to honor her late mother’s Targaryen heritage." Viserys gestured to his brother standing to the side, unbothered with bedhair in his undershirt in the midafternoon. Ser Lyonel’s face paled.

"I cannot go forth with this wedding without doing you the courtesy of letting you be the first to know, that your second daughter Lady Y/N Strong, will wed my brother, the Prince. Is there any reason you might object?" Viserys asked, hoping they might offer a valid reason. But silence prevailed.

"She is, of course, most willing." Daemon taunted. He couldn't resist the temptation any more than he could resist your allure.

"We are honored, your Grace." Lyonel spoke uneasily after a while. Ser Harwin didn't look too convinced either, but there was no way to voice their fears without insulting the King's own brother. They refused to look at disheveled Daemon smirking at them.

Daemon whistled a happy tune as he waltzed around the hallways and to his chambers.

He sighed in relief at the ease at which he received the Crown's approval. Now all there was left to do was convincing you that a life with him held more promise than one as Rhaenyra's ladies in waiting.

[thehighladywrites]

“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”

⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance

⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?

⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽‍♀️

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽‍♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗

“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”

Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.

And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.

“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.

His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.

“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.

“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.

“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.

Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.

“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.

After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.

“What can I help you with today?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”

Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.

A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.

“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.

You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.

Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.

Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”

The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.

Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.

Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,

“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”

You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”

He raised his brow and you with amusement,

“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.

You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.

“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”

He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.

“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.

“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”

He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.

Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.

Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.

“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”

Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.

His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.

“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”

Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.

“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”

Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”

“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.

You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.

His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.

“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.

Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.

The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.

Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.

“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”

His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.

“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.

Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.

He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.

“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.

Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.

Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.

All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.

“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”

Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”

Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.

“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.

You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.

In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.

Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.

The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.

Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.

Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.

“I need all of you to leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with his usual nonchalance.

Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.

“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested, pointing to her full, steaming plate.

Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.

"There. I moved everything to your table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.

“Damn. That looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.

“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.

He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.

“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”

You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,

“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”

You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.

Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,

“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”

You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.

“Are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.

“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”

You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.

“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”

You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.

You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.

“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.

Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.

Something that should've been a mundane task.

However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your breasts moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.

A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.

Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.

Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost onyx shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.

He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.

Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.

Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.

You stirred, sensing Rhys gaze by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his eyes locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.

The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.

Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.

“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”

Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.

His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.

A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.

It all felt so fucking good, you moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.

Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.

” ‘need help, rhys, please—”

Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.

The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.

“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“

His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.

You nodded, desperate for him.

“Please, let me make you a daddy.”

With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.

You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.

If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”

You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.

He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.

“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”

His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.

“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.

After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.

“Rhysie?”

“Yes, love?”

“I think we need to fuck one more time, please?”

His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

And he did.

He gave you more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.

Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.

Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.

If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.

Let’s not even discuss when you started showing…

The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.

Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.

During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.

You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”

You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.

You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.

He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.

He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.

Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.

“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.

Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.

“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.

“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.

Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.

His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.

Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.

Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.

🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath

[irisintheafterglow]

thoughts are thonkin' about summer camp counselor!gojo

"hmm, let's go with truth."

"do you like any of the other counselors?" ooohhhh. the children in the circle around you lean forward in anticipation. you can practically see the excitement in their eyes and you coyly dodge the question, well aware their reactions would be less than satisfied.

"oh, yeah! i like all the counselors!" you chirp happily and the kids groan, protesting 'not like that!' or 'you know what we mean!' you ignore them and push on, continuing, "shoko's basically my best friend, and i actually met her through this camp a long time ago; geto always lets me borrow his hairties; nanami...i guess i appreciate him for trying his best and coming back year after year." a few of the older campers from the cabin nanami always took charge of (because "they were more mature," in his eyes) snicker at your commentary on their favorite grumpy counselor, but one little girl in a purple tie-dyed shirt persists. you recognize her as one of geto's immediately; he always called dibs on playing 'mother' for the littlest ones in camp.

"what about counselor gojo?" her eyes are big and curious, still intrigued by your answers even when the rest of the group has moved on.

"remember, you can only ask one question per turn," nanami announces blandly from across the circle, though you do notice that the edge to his voice is gentler than usual. as much as he complains about the energy of the younger campers, he always seemed to be softer with them; though, you've never commented on it for fear of him becoming self-aware.

"he's right. that's two questions, my friend," you reply kindly, quickly moving the hot seat to the next camper, one of shoko's wearing a brown camp shirt. "alright, looks like it's your turn. truth or dare?"

"i hope you rascals are behaving. it's laps around the tennis courts if you're not." the front door to the main house opens and shuts, shoko entering with a train of middle schoolers at her heels. they'd embarked into the summer night to retrieve a camper's water bottle that was left at the edge of the lake. now that she's returned, her group eagerly makes room for her and the rest of their cabin until the circle nearly covers the entire living room. "they have behaved, right?"

"of course," you confirm. "they've been nothing but angels since you left." shoko hums and raises her eyebrows once, unamused. "what, you don't believe me?"

"nah, just that gojo's kids must not be here yet." you fight down the smirk that wants to appear on your face when, at the exact moment shoko comments on their absence, the loudest and rowdiest cabin arrives at the house. "speak of the devil-"

"i literally just got relaxed," mumbles suguru while he sits down with a disposable cup of warm tea from the kitchen. his girls lean over to see what he's drinking, asking if they can try some too. "later, later. let's all make room for counselor gojo's cabin, my friends."

"oi, wipe the dirt from your shoes or i throw you in the lake!" his cabin drawls out a half-hearted response, stamping on the welcome mat before filing into the living room. gojo's voice was still outside on the front porch. over the years, you learned he always took up the rear when his cabin was on the move, letting the most energetic of the bunch lead from the front and herding any stragglers at the back. according to your girls, he was the notorious 'hot camp counselor' that all the cabins fawned over. they called him charming, blushing over how carefree he was and how handsome he was when he smiled. you tried not to feed into any rumors about you and gojo having a thing for each other...

but he made it pretty difficult when he shimmied into the seat next to you and stared at you like there weren't several dozen children watching your every move.

"hi. you come here often?" he greets with a blinding smile before turning to the rest of the group. "so, what are we playing?" he sits with his legs crossed and one arm propped up behind you, the arm closest to you so that it occasionally brushes your shoulder. you shoot him a look of warning and he winks at you, going back to camp counselor mode in a split second. "this looks like a great truth or dare circle."

"it was, but there might be too many friends to play that game now. plus, we were only playing it to kill time," suguru says. the current number of campers made it hard to entertain everyone with a simple game like truth or dare, so it was up to the counselors to figure out a different game.

"i think kamo and todo's groups are still at the pool," shoko reminds everyone. "nanami and i can take a group over if you wanna go." a camper from nanami's cabin raises his hand.

"but aren't we still waiting for counselor haibara?" nanami shakes his head, the keys attached to his yellow leopard print lanyard jangling around his neck.

"counselor haibara's cabin is on dishes duty tonight. they're probably gonna go straight to bed when they're done."

"which will be soon for all of you, especially you little ones," you point out, glancing at the girls falling asleep on either side of suguru. all of the conscious campers grumble and you smile. they had so much fun every day of camp that they never wanted to go to sleep. "c'mon, you have to sleep if you still wanna do s'mores at the bonfire tomorrow." this raises their spirits a little bit and they come to the consensus that they need to play one more game before they go to sleep.

"alright kids, whatcha wanna play?" satoru folds his sunglasses and sticks them on the collar of his camp shirt. you ignore the way his bicep flexes under the rainbow tie-dyed fabric, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. "there's heads up seven up, mafia, assassin-"

"can you tell us one of your stories, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, tell us a story from when you guys were campers." you can hear the gears turning in satoru's head and you lay a hand on his shoulder before he can launch into his tale.

"hold on, just so we're clear: you get a story instead of a game, is that okay with everyone? if we're not done by," you glance at the clock, "9:30, we'll save the rest of the story for tomorrow night, good?" the entire group nods their agreement, aside from the littlest ones who were dozing in suguru's arms. the kids get comfortable, leaning on each other and wrapping sweaters around their bodies like blankets. "take it away, then," you say to satoru.

"cool! i think i'm gonna tell you all about how i confessed to my camp crush," he states and you catch every other counselor in the room roll their eyes. somewhere across camp, a shiver probably ran up haibara's spine. evidently, satoru notices too, as he points at the rest of the counselors accusingly and says, "hey, just because you've heard this before doesn't mean i don't get to tell it again!"

"we didn't just hear it before, gojo," shoko says, rolling her eyes. "we were literally there." their beloved counselors becoming like characters in a fairy tale entice the kids even more to listen.

"so, a long, long time ago-"

"like when the dinosaurs were alive?"

"hey, i'm not that old," he frowns and the kids break into giggles. "anyways, a really long time ago, i had the biggest crush on another camper. the first time i saw them was at the lake. i was so shocked by them that i fell off my paddleboard."

"no way!"

"aww, that's so cute!"

"it's true," comments suguru after a sip from his tea. "i was in a kayak right next to him and he was so distracted, he ran into a rock and flew forward." more laughter echoes around the room and you even see nanami trying to hide a small smile.

"so, how'd you start talking to them?" you ask with a sparkle in your eyes.

"that's the thing," satoru continues, waving his arms around in dramatic gestures for emphasis. "for a while, i didn't even talk to them. i was so nervous and they were so pretty, like they were totally out of my league!"

"i don't think anyone's out of your league, counselor gojo," swoons one of the little ones from suguru's cabin. "i bet that person had a crush on you too, but you didn't know it!"

"that's very nice of you to say," satoru replies, briefly meeting suguru's eyes. suguru shrugs over the lid of his cup, his face an expression along the lines of 'i didn't teach them to be that friendly to you.'

"when did you actually start talking to them, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, and what did you talk about?"

"did you kiss them-"

"or did they kiss you first?"

"ew, kissing! gross!" the group teeters on the edge of falling into chaos, but it's exactly where satoru thrives.

"wait, wait, wait. too many questions, friends." all attention in the room snaps back to him. "and for the record, i did not kiss them the first time i talked to them," satoru reiterates with a nervous chuckle.

"then what did you talk about?"

"the easiest thing to talk about when you're here at camp," he replies. "i asked them if they wanted to see the stars with me." the lightbulbs blink to life in each camper's head and they grin in understanding. the area's constellations and views of space were always a fan-favorite, no matter the year. it was the one event every single camper and counselor looked forward to, and each person had a designated 'space buddy' to look at the stars with (and to also ensure no one wandered off in the dark woods alone). "i asked if they wanted to be my space buddy and, thankfully, they said yes."

"who was usually your space buddy, counselor gojo?" suguru wordlessly raises his hand on the other side of the circle. "wait, then who was counselor geto's space buddy?"

"it's how we became friends, actually," answers shoko. "counselor gojo stole my usual space buddy, so i had to partner with someone else."

"aww, that's so cute! wait..." the dots start to connect in the campers' minds and you stiffen, praying they didn't see the connection between the earlier truth-or-dare question and shoko's explanation. one of the older kids narrows his eyes at you, flicking between you and satoru with great suspicion.

"didn't you say earlier that shoko was your-" one of the littles can't hold their question and interjects before the big kid can finish their sudden inquiry.

"counselor shoko, who was your usual space buddy?"

"oh, it was always my best friend," she says without hesitation, looking over at you innocently. "and, if you didn't already know, my best friend is-"

"it's 9:30, big kids pack it up," nanami cuts in and you exhale, wiping your clammy palms on your shorts. a glance at satoru reveals him as suave as ever, but you do notice the single bead of sweat running down the side of his temple. "don't complain. you're already out later than i usually let you."

"that goes for you too, my littles," suguru says, ushering the sleepy children out the door after the bigs. "night, guys," he waves before stepping outside.

"we should probably get going, too. we'll tell the rest of this story tomorrow." as shoko's cabin leaves, satoru catches your eye.

"you wanna head out first or should we?"

"we can head out together, no? our cabins are right next to each other." the tiniest smirk appears on satoru's face.

"sounds good, you lead the way."

as both your group and satoru's walk out of the main house, you linger behind and let your kids navigate back to the cabin. when you're sure none of the kids are watching, you casually brush your hand against satoru's. he reacts immediately, lacing his fingers in yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

"hi, boyfriend," you say low enough that only he can hear.

"two more days," he mutters mostly to himself. "two more days and then i have you back to myself."

"c'mon, shouldn't we give back to the camp that brought us together in the first place?" you keep your voice as quiet as possible to not draw attention from the kids, your conversation blending with the sounds of the swaying forest and calling birds. "it's good karma, don't you think?"

"sure. doesn't mean i don't get mad when i can't love on you." you can hear satoru pouting even when you can't completely see his face. "are we ever gonna tell them about us? it's been a few years; most of the little ones we knew first are with nanami now."

"maybe we can tell them tomorrow. give them a little brain exercise trying to figure out who was your space buddy on that fateful night," you tease. he bumps his shoulder against yours, daring to sneak a kiss on your cheek. "satoru-"

"i know, i know. i just need reassurance that you're still mine, sometimes." the light of the cabins come into view and you reluctantly pull away from satoru. "ouch," he winces like he has a rock in his shoe. "i don't like that at all."

"what, me not holding your hand anymore?"

"mhmm, so don't be surprised if i tell the campers tomorrow," he says with an air of finality. "i'll take the teasing and the pestering as long as you're okay with it. i just can't take not being able to kiss you."

"of course i'm fine with it," you nod, finally catching up to your groups. you give them the signal to go inside and get ready for bed, stalling outside with satoru until you run out of time. "i'll see you in the morning, counselor gojo." he makes a gagging face that forces you to cover up a snort with a fake cough.

"if that sleeping bag isn't warm enough, you know where to find me," he says with a smirk as you begin to walk away. his body moves before his mind knows it, catching you by the wrist before you're too far. "hey. i love you." his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. he was so desperately trying not to kiss you.

"i love you too," you murmur, seeing more sparkle in his eyes than in all of the campground. "sweet dreams, my love."

"sweet dreams, space buddy."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter One

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Mentions of death and violence

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Layers of gosammer fabric rippled with movement as you smoothed the bodice of your dress. Warm sunlight flooded through the stained glass windows, getting trapped in the sheer material until you glowed shades of yellow and blue. You tugged the sleeves over your hands and took a deep breath. 

It was a great honor to be invited to the Sun Palace, and for the Summer Solstice no less. The other Librarians of the 12th sector athenaeum - lovingly nicknamed The Alcove - had been absolutely astounded when the letter came addressed to you, hand delivered by pegasus. It was an honor. It was a great honor. You knew this. But your heart buzzed uncomfortably within your ribs like a bird desperate to take to the skies.

“Do I really frighten you that much?”

You swiveled your head to the side, finally acknowledging your High Lord after minutes of silence. Helion shot you a smile full of light and warmth. Light and warmth. Everything about Helion screamed it - from the sunburst crown on his head to the glow of his brown skin. He may as well have been carved from burnt amber. Helion’s very presence was enough to melt the hearts and open the legs of any fae - male or female. Even now you saw some of the female courtiers shooting you envious looks full of heat and longing. It made you cringe uncomfortably.

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the pearls woven into your hair settle at the base of your neck.

“No.” You said quickly, “I apologize, High Lord. It’s not you. I just… haven’t been around this many people before.” 

“You take after your mother,” Helion said, that bright smile slipping into something fonder, more full of regret, “She was never one for parties either.”

You’d taken after your mother in just about everything - your eyes, your hair, the way you walked, even the way you took your coffee. Maybe if your mother had allowed you to be around Helion earlier on you would have learned his charm, absorbed his charisma like a sponge. As it was, the only thing you’d inherited from Helion was a stubborn power you couldn’t control. 

You clasped your hands together behind your back, as if that would be enough to hide your talent. With the ability to absorb knowledge and memories through touch, Clairvoyants were incredibly rare and highly sought after in the Day Court. Helion had worked hard to conceal your power and your identity, so when you’d been given first pick of athenaeums following your apprenticeship, it was to no one’s surprise you’d chosen the one furthest from the city. 

The Alcove. Your home. How you wished you were there now, nestled away in your attic apartment above the library. Comfortable. Alone.

Helion’s gaze softened as he regarded you. He shouldn’t have been as much of a stranger to you as he was. But he was no stranger to your work - always methodical, always precise, always handled with the same degree of love and attention that fae showed their children. You’d nearly died protecting The Alcove when Amarantha ransacked the Day Court libraries, smuggled books and knowledge across court lines during her reign. 

Perhaps you had inherited some bold streak from Helion after all. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Helion?”

“Six.” You said without hesitation.  

“Of course you would remember such a thing,” He said, clicking his tongue, “Would you take a turn around the room with me?” He asked, extending a poor man’s olive branch, “I have guests I would like to introduce you to.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You’d planned to remain glued to this pillar until nightfall, half hidden by the quartet that was beginning to rush the tune in time to the next song. The spirited piece was coming just in time for champagne drunk party goers to make their way to the dance floor. 

You sighed, “Must I?” The performance of it all - the dress, the hair, the party, the pearls  - was more than you were used to, something orchestrated by Helion to finally get you to leave The Alcove. He would have dragged you to more parties if you weren’t so stubborn about ignoring non-business related correspondences. Hence the pegasus. 

“Your High Lord commands it.” Helion said smugly and moved his arm out to the side, gesturing for you to leave your little bubble of safety. “And you may very well come to thank me.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You waited a moment before saying, “Helion.” The casual name felt unfamiliar on my tongue.

He clapped his hands together, attracting the attention of one of the sons of Autumn. He shook his head of flames and scowled into his whiskey, handsome features twisting into something uglier.

“Finally!” Helion’s voice boomed, “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

You chased after his long strides, hoping to stay within the radius of space fae gave to a High Lord. And it worked. For some time. You bounced between various pockets of fae, dodging servers with platters of cheeses, wine, pastries, and more balanced on shoulders. Helion’s deep voice reverberated off the walls as he laughed and clapped people on their shoulders, whispered in their ears, and threw casual, flirtatious winks. He shielded you from the vipers and introduced you to his friends as a talented researcher instead of his bastard daughter. But despite your best efforts, someone still touched you, and your power reared its ugly head.

It happened when one of the Summer Court delegates, drunk and giggling, crashed into a female in a flurry of teal silk, who - like a domino - fell onto you. You landed on your knees, palms stinging from broken glass as flashes of memory and knowledge raced through your mind.

A diagram of the Day Court cities taken in secret from the 29th sector cartography athenaeum. A page ripped from one of Helion’s private collection tomes. A sketch of a still, black lake, and the being of death and destruction that resided there. 

Koschei.

The name spilled onto your mind like ink in water, followed by horrible memories of slaughter and violence. Enough blood to turn the lake red.

The flood of information dulled and the female became nothing more than a willowy tower of tulle with ivory hair retreating into the crowds.

You gasped for breath, limbs shaking. 

The air. It was too thin here. Too suffocating.

Koschei

Koschei 

Koschei

“Are you alright?” A male asked. His deep, careful voice felt like the calm before a hurricane.

You jerked back from the scarred hands that reached for you, wrapping your arms around yourself as you scrambled to your feet. A horrible rip sounded through the now quiet ballroom as you tripped on your dress and tore the bottom layers. And if it couldn’t become more embarrassing, when you stood up you came face to face with none other than the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

Devastatingly beautiful - were the first thoughts that came to mind. So beautiful in fact that he shook you from your visions and the horrible power attached to the lake. The edges of him flickered in and out of existence, clouded by shadows that fluttered about like smoke above a flame. You flinched when they came closer to you before being wrenched back on some invisible leash. He was as gorgeous as the rumors claimed, every inch of him seemingly carved out of black obsidion. 

The flash of shame that crossed his hazel eyes quickly faded into nothing and he clasped his hands behind his back, cursing Cassian for convincing him to go without gloves tonight.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Helion neared closer to you, pointing to your bloody hands. But the pain was nothing. You thought your heart might burst in your chest from the nerves. The more you thought about your splattered remains on the crisp marble tiles, the worse you felt.

The other members of the Night Court looked on with concern. You recognized the other Illyrian warrior - The Lord of Bloodshed he was called. His wings were partially extended, shielding you from the worst of the crowd. And the High Lord and High Lady needed no introduction, decked out in their slim-cut robes and dress. The silvery embroidery reminded you of the stars in the night sky you gazed at when you couldn’t fall asleep and the rest of the Day Court denizens had long since snuffed out their lights. There was a dangerous beauty that wrapped around the group as tightly as the Spymaster’s shadows clung to his body. And you’d just embarrassed the High Lord of the Day Court - your father - in front of them.

Azriel stepped back, reigning in his shadows despite their many desperate protests, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to-”

But you ignored his words, gathered up your skirts, and ran towards the palace gardens, leaving nothing behind but a thin trail of blood and silk, the scent of vanilla, and a brooding, heart-broken Shadowsinger.

Heavy air mingled with copious amounts of perfume, gave way to crisp clarity. The sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon, like two lovers whispering in each other’s ears as you sprinted down the stairs past two drunk Peregryn soldiers half-hidden behind a rosebush. Their tawny feathers dipped in and out from behind the leaves like ocean waves.

A child’s doll half-buried in ash. The ring of electricity in the air and the metallic, buzzing stench of blood and rot in your nose. Suffocating. Suffocating. 

It was terrible. Worse than any memory you’d slipped into before.

“Y/n!” 

Koschei.

Koschei.

Koschei.

Everyone had experienced horror under Amarantha’s rule and during the war against Hybern. You’d been subjected to it too many times to count. Every brush of skin, every well-meaning touch from someone else had been a cruelty. 

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake? 

So why did this knowledge feel so different?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

“Y/n! Stop!” Hellion’s robes billowed out behind him like sun rays, dazzling brighter than gold. 

What’s buried beneath the lake? 

What’s buried beneath the lake?

What’s buried beneath the lake?

You didn’t realize you were murmuring the words until Helion gripped you by the shoulders and spun you around. You were brought back by more comforting knowledge - Helion’s memories. Memories of you as a babe, chubby legs wobbling beneath you as you took your first steps into your mother’s waiting arms. A flood of pride entering his chest that felt more like sadness than anything else. 

“Y/n!” He shook you again.

He has a room made up for you in the Sun Palace. He hides all the birthday gifts there that he planned to give to you, but never did. You are one of his greatest regrets.

You blinked rapidly, clearing out your thoughts and shoving the High Lord back with all your might. You didn’t need this right now. You didn’t need two hundred years of fatherly guilt to catch up to you. To the both of you. Not tonight. Not ever.

Without another word you winnowed away. 

__________

“I’m sorry about that,” Helion said, rolling his shoulders and rubbing his hands together.

He was grateful the party had returned to its previous rhythms in his absence, but Rhysand took note of the discomfort ladeled upon his shoulders, the hints of regret in his eyes. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with. 

The sun continued to slip behind the peaks of the mountains, changing the temperature of the room as the ivory and gold-plated walls began to take on a warmer shade. 

“Y/n is not used to such spaces.” He explained, “I should have done more to prepare her for tonight.” 

Rhysand waved off the apology. “There’s no need for apologies, Helion.”

“I do hope she’s ok.” Feyre said. With a snap of Helion’s fingers the blood had been wiped from the floor along with the spilled wine and broken glass. “Her hands-” 

Azriel stiffened, his arms suddenly hidden from view by the shadows that wound up his arms. Feyre quickly changed the topic. “This Y/n, is she the Librarian you’ve told us so much about?”

Helion’s smile was a prideful one, “The one and only.” He lowered his voice, careful to shield his words from any curious ears with a faint blanket of magic, “I would love to claim the credit for helping with your last pregnancy, but in truth it was all Y/n.” 

Feyre blinked in surprise. Her second pregnancy - although much better than the first - had still been a struggle. Rhysand had reached out to Helion in desperation, hoping once again for a safer method of birthing their winged-daughter. After spending months on end combing through the deepest depths of the oldest Day Court libraries, she’d delivered to them a text on cesarean sections. The tradition was a human one, and had been considered too primitive for fae, but with Feyre’s success Madja was reevaluating its usefulness. The High Lord and High Lady had much to thank you for when it came to little Velaria. 

Cassian raised his brows and Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that teased his lips. For such a timid bookworm you’d saved them a great deal of trouble. All at once that sense of pride for a female he didn’t even know fell away. You’d looked at him with such… fear. Flinched away from his touch like you knew exactly the kind of monster he was when all he’d wanted to do was help you.

“We’ll have to thank her personally then.” Rhysand said.

He raised Feyre’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm and looking at her like the love-sick male that he was. He still had nightmares about Nyx’s birth - how pale Feyre had become, the stench of blood in the air, and Nyx’s tiny, motionless body. He was ready to offer you a mountain of gold for preventing such a thing from happening again. 

Azriel lowered his gaze, overwhelmed by the look that passed between the two mates. It felt like an intrusion to be standing in front of them. It was hard to see his brother and Feyre so openly affectionate with one another and not feel slivers of envy enter his heart. Cassian would have similarly been glued to Nesta’s side if she’d accepted the invitation, and although Mor was reluctant to venture out into the public world of courtiers with Emerie, she would have made it clear that she was taken. It meant that Azriel was often left to stand alone at events like this, gracefully rejecting the advances of males and females who hoped to lure the mysterious Shadowsinger into their beds. He’d been close to joining you in your solitude when Helion had charmed and whisked you away.

Azriel shifted his attention to the quartet, specifically to the little alcove to the left of the stage where he’d first noticed you. You’d stood there so quiet and observant, politely declining any male who offered you food or drinks or a dance. And there was no confusion as to why. You’d looked breathtaking in a pearly gown that clung to you like wisps of fog over the Illyrian mountaintops. 

“After the party I’ll take you to her apartment. Allow you all to properly introduce yourselves.” Helion said in a burst of brilliance.

Cassian prodded Azriel’s ribs, a knowing look in his eyes as he watched the now visibly uncomfortable Shadowsinger. 

But if Helion noticed, he didn’t care. If there was any collection of fae with the power to break you out of your shell, it was them.

“But until then! We dance! Come now Cassian, dance with me.” 

Cassian snorted as Helion clasped a muscular arm around his shoulders and heaved him over to the dance floor where fae were already congregated in a tangle of limbs and wine. Feyre and Rhysand joined soon after, the High Lady throwing back an apologetic smile as she joined the crowd with her mate and Azriel was left to stand alone once again.

Next Chapter ->

______

Author's note:

I have too many thoughts and ideas and got sucked into writing this one. Also, I wanted a nice Azriel fic to follow up Flame, Shadow, Beast so... enjoy!

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part Four

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Eris finally show Prythian your love.

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, slight mention of PTSD, (kind of proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 2.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tomorrow was the day you would accept the bond. That was the most important part of the day to Eris and you. For the rest of the Autumn court, it would be a wedding and a ceremony naming you High Lady.

It had been a year since you had went to Autumn, and a year since you had talked to your brother. While you had contact with Feyre and the rest of your family, you hadn't talked to Rhysand at all. You would still wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare of being locked in your own room. It would take Eris bringing you to the garden for you to calm down and understand you were safe, you could leave. Some nights, it was so bad you'd spend the rest of the night sitting on a bench. It took a toll on both you and Eris. While you had trouble staying asleep, he had trouble falling asleep in fear he would miss your nightmare and you would be alone to work through it.

However, since you wanted your entire family at the mating ceremony, and you hadn't received a response from them, you decided to go to the Night Court yourself. Eris wanted to come with you, it was hard for him to not be there for you, but you knew this was something you had to do by yourself.

You took a deep breath once you winnowed outside the River House. In the Solar Courts, it was summer time. You spotted Rhys, now a spry four year old, running around with his two year old cousin, Lucien and Elain's daughter. While Lucien and Elain had visited Autumn, as had just about every one of your family, you were happy to see them together.

"Aunt (Y/N)!" You heard a small voice cry out, then a barreling head of black curls ran towards you. You smiled and leaned down, scooping up Nyx and pulling him close.

"Hi Nyx, are you being nice to Aster?" You asked, seeing your niece waddle up to you as well.

"Of course." He said defiantly, crossing his little arms on his chest.

You let out a laugh and set him down, giving Aster a hug before you took both of their small hands in yours. "Where are your parents?" You asked.

"I wasn't too far away." Lucien said, arms crossed as he leaned against the banister of the stairs.

You looked up and smiled. "Hi Lu," you said, walking the two children over to him. "I think a visit is in order as I haven't heard from you about the mating ceremony in Autumn." You said.

Lucien gave you a small smile. "I'm sorry about that, it's been a little crazy around here." He said.

You hummed, still feeling slightly left out of the family. "Is Rhys here?" You asked quietly.

Lucien nodded, taking Aster in his arms when she held her hands up. "In the living room." He said. You led Nyx into the house as well, watching as he scampered off to the living room where his mother's laughs filled the room.

You took a deep breath as Lucien called out your arrival, gathering the courage to step into the living room.

Everyone, save for Rhys, stood up to greet you. You smiled softly and hugged all of them, glad to see your family together. You felt empty without Eris beside you, but you felt a light tug on the bond at the thought, knowing he could feel your nerves.

They all decided to go outside and give you space with Rhys, of course after asking you if it was okay. When you assured them it would be fine, they filed out to the front yard.

You looked at Rhys as he stood up. "Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." You said.

"I'm sorry." He said, the only thing he's been able to say for the past year. In letters, in sending you solstice and Starfall gifts.

"I know."

"How can I make this better?" He asked.

You took a deep breath. You had thought about this a lot. Talked it through with Eris many times. "I want to make a bargain with you. I will forgive you if you promise to never lock me up again... and you will accept Eris and I as mates. And support us as such." You said.

"I promise." He said immediately. You felt a tattoo appear on the back of your shoulders, mimicking the ones that Rhys had from completing the Blood Rite. "You deserve them... you've been through more than I can imagine." He said. "And I promise, truly, (Y/N), that I will never harm you again. And I will always talk to you before trying to protect you."

You smiled, walking closer to him and hugging him tightly. "I've missed you." You said. "Now, please tell me you will come to this ceremony? And the rest of our family?" I asked.

"I told them to go, they didn't want to until we made up..." He said.

"I figured... They are still very loyal to you. Though how bad did Cass and Az beat you up when they found out what you did?" You asked as you pulled away.

"To a pulp." He said and smiled a bit. "And Feyre banished me to the cabin for a month. I couldn't leave." He said.

"You deserved it." You said, nudging him.

"I did... and so much more. But I'm happy to see you happy.. even if it's with Eris." You rolled your eyes at the comment. "He really is a good male?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling softly. "I love him, Rhys. And he's been nothing but incredible for me." You said. "And I want you there when we accept the bond... and I become High Lady." You said.

He smiled, ruffling your hair. "High Lady of Autumn... What a twist. Imagine what father would think." He joked.

"I'm pretty sure he would die before seeing me as High Lady of anything, nonetheless Autumn." You said.

Rhys chuckled and nodded, looking at you for a few moments. "You've become an incredible female, (Y/N). I'm very proud of you." He said, pulling you in for another hug. "And I really hope we never fight again. Because this past year has sucked without you." He said.

You smiled softly and hugged him back. "Yeah, I know."

You stood in front of the mirror in your closet, smoothing down the golden dress you had on. Deep red swirls with golden sparkles embedded in the embroidery ran from your waist to your feet. There was a thin fabric attached to the straps, flowing down your back as a cape. That had matching red swirls in lace, intricately sewn into the see-through fabric. Your hair was up in a braid, circling the back of your head, with two golden leaf clips holding it back. You were the epitome of Autumn, the only thing not matching was your violet eyes, matching ones to Rhys. Still, they stood out amongst the gold and accentuated your features.

You sensed Eris enter the room before you heard him. "I might just have to accept the bond right here. I don't know if I can deal with that many males looking at you when you look so incredible." He said.

You smiled and turned towards him. "You're going to have to get used to it, because our people need a level-headed High Lord." You said.

Our people. Not only his people, but yours too. "Hmm.. I thought that's why I chose you as my High Lady..." He said and smirked. "Truly, princess, you are breath-taking. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The Mother herself would drop dead in your presence." He said.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you walked towards him, your red and gold heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "You flatter me too much, High Lord." You teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

His hands came to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "There is no such thing." He said and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. "You still won't tell me the food you're going to offer me, should I be scared?" He asked.

You laughed and shook your head. "Do you trust me?" You asked, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He leaned into your touch, smiling against the gentle gesture.

"Of course. With my life." He said.

"Then no, you should not be scared." You said and pecked his lips. "Would the High Lord escort me to the temple?" You teased.

He smiled, letting you take his arm as he winnowed you to the temple, where guests from all courts were filing in. You spotted your family standing outside, waiting for you and Eris to appear.

"I will see you inside." You said, kissing his cheek. "Please don't kill my brother at the dais." You said, squeezing his hand.

Eris gave you a wink before slinging his arm around Lucien's shoulders and leading him inside where their mother was waiting. Elain followed, along with the rest of the Inner Circle, all giving you hugs of good luck before following them along.

You looked at Rhys as he stayed behind. "You look wonderful," He said.

You smiled gently and hummed. "Thank you for not wearing black to the ceremony." You said, noticing his dark green tunic and pants. All of your family had been dressed in similar dark colors, but all reminiscent of Autumn.

"It would be improper to deny the wish of a bride. And future High Lady." He said, pulling you in for a hug.

When you pulled away, you heard the procession music begin to play. "Will you escort me to Eris?" You asked him. "I can go by myself-"

"I will escort you. See it as a symbolic gesture of giving him my trust to protect you." Rhys said, offering his arm to you.

You smiled as you took his arm, starting to walk down the middle aisle of the temple. You looked around at all of the fall flowers and decorations, courtesy of Elain's garden here. You smiled as you saw Eris grinning happily, shifting on his feet. If you didn't know better, you would say he was nervous.

You sent a slight tug on the bond as you walked down the aisle, smiling as you saw his smile grow. Soon the bond would be even stronger. You were excited to feel it in full force, but you knew it would take time.

You took a deep breath as you reached the front, smiling as Rhys kissed your cheek, shaking Eris's hand before he went to sit next to Feyre. You took Eris's hand when he offered it and stepped onto the dais. "Still as handsome as ever." You complimented, smoothing down his golden tunic, the twin to yours.

"And you're still as gorgeous as ever." He said, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek before you turned towards the priestess together.

As the priestess finished her sermon, you and Eris faced each other, the golden ribbon you chose wrapping around your wrists and hands as you spoke the words of an Autumn wedding:

"Two hearts, one wish, two tongues, one language, two ropes, join connected, two souls, one journey."

And then the words of a Night Court wedding followed:

"With a tie not easy to break Take the time of bindin’ Before the final vows are made To learn what we need to know, To grow in wisdom and love. That our marriage will be strong, That our love will last In this life and beyond."

Tears were gathered in your eyes as the priestess gave the final vow, "May you both be blessed with the fortitude of the Cauldron, the brightness of the sun, and the brilliance of the moon. May you have the magnificence of fire, speed of lightning, quickness of wind, depth of the sea, stability of earth, and the sturdiness of rock. May your joys be as sweet as the flowers that blossom in spring and as radiant as the summer sun. May the shower of autumn leaves bring to you faith and fortune, and may your love be resilient amidst the long star-filled nights."

"You are hers, and he is yours. May the Mother bless you in these days and the days to come. Until the light leaves each other you. In this life and the next." She nodded to Eris, pronouncing you husband and wife.

Eris smiled lovingly down at you, cupping your cheeks as he brought you in for a tender kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, the crowd's cheers drowned out by your love for the male standing in front of you.

When you pulled away, you had to remind yourself to stay standing at the dais, as your inauguration as a High Lady would be next.

Eris kissed you once more before pulling back. The golden ribbon that connected you stayed on your hands as you knelt before Eris, watching him kneel in front of you as well.

The ceremony for the High Lady was new, and Feyre helped you plan it. Since you didn't have any power from Autumn, Eris offered you part of his. If you were to be his High Lady of Autumn, you were going to have fire in your veins. You couldn't deny him when he gave you a very specific loving look. One that got you both into trouble more than you could count.

You dipped your head as the priestess said the ceremonial words Feyre and you had wrote (with a little help from Nesta), and you felt Eris's hand lightly touch the top of your head as he transferred a drop of his power to you. As you closed your eyes, you breathed in the newfound fire in your veins. You opened your eyes, directly into Eris's. His auburn hair seemed to shine brighter, and your violet eyes were now flecked with gold. Courtesy of the fire now burning within you.

Eris and you stood together, still connected by the golden ribbon, as the priestess introduced the new High Lord and High Lady of Autumn, Eris and (Y/N) Vanserra.

Part Five

A/N: ... This still isn't the end.. The mating bond ceremony??? Maybe some smut afterwards??? (if you can't tell, i'm obsessed with these two)

Join the taglist here (I will not be adding people from the comments)

Wedding vow source here and here... I'm so bad with them so I decided to take from Welsh and Scottish vows/blessings... If I remember the court layout correctly I think that would be accurate.

Tagging (thank you for all your lovely comments, they fuel my writing for the better every day): @96jnie @rcarbo1 @circe143 @bookwormysblog @stuff-i-found-while-crying @acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @optimistic-but-very-realistic @minaethrym @herondale-lightworm @saltedcoffeescotch @faridathefairy @alliex-o @mariahoedt @falszywe @d3ad-ins1de @anyzandy @mulledwinetea @myromanempiree @ysmtttty @dumblani @brighterthanlonelythoughts @micaxrocky @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @windblownwinston @the-golden-jhope @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @homeslices @todaystheday @quackquackhun @Kayhud05 @forgiveliv @of-outerspace @darkbloodsly @sarahswiftie23 @edance2000 @myrtlethai @superspideyparker @tothestarsandwhateverend @adharanotfound @deancodedgirlie @plants-w0rld @confusedsezure @theanxietyqueen17 @megzdoodle @batboyslover @grace-mint @adaliajaycee @tortured-artists @tenshis-cake @andreperez11 @thesongofselene @ibysworld @marielouiseva @inky-sun @high-speed-r @lilah-asteria @antonia002 @fallingforharry-1 @azrielswhore @theshekinahb

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[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Maegor the Cruel/Six Wives Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: This is more based on his wives than on Maegor himself, but I wanted to test something. This is dedicated to dear @gulnarsultan, hope you like it! If you just want one of Maegor, feel free to ask!! ❤️❤️

❝tw: polygamous marriage, murder, jealousy, possessive and obsessive behavior, mention of stillbirths and death on childbirth.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!maegor the cruel x female!reader, yan!six wives x female!reader.

You must have been a very cursed woman when you were chosen to marry Maegor I Targaryen. Not only because he already had wives, but because of his well-known reputation and cruelty.

You begged your parents not to let you marry him, but it wasn't a choice to make. It was an order. Your parents couldn't deny it or they would be killed. Your family was well known in Westeros and had a good reputation for being fertile, maybe that's why he chose you. You cried a lot that day, but you had no choice but to leave for King's Landing.

Once you arrived, you were immediately greeted by one of Maegor's wives, Tyanna of the Tower. You were hesitant with her, knowing the reputation she maintained, but to your surprise, Tyanna had been nothing but kind and courteous to you, explaining everything she could about the court and Maegor. That being said, you quickly warmed to her, hopeful that you had a friend through it all.

The other wives were also nothing but cordial with you, some a little hesitant and others more open, but all kind and polite. You felt calmer about it.

Maegor has an explosive temper and everyone is directed towards his anger, not even you are safe, although you are the only one who can truly calm him down. Whenever he is having a temper tantrum or cruelty, you are called to defuse the situation.

His behavior is violent and difficult, his cruel acts became more common after he became obsessed with you. You must do what he wants, after all, you don't want your family to suffer the consequences, do you?

Ceryse Hightower was as sweet and kind as she could be. She was the warmest to you, hugging you and wishing you happiness and many children. She expected you to give her husband heirs.

She was kind, so sweet to you that she quickly became your friend, your ally. You adored her, and even though she was your husband's first wife, you had no problems with her or she with you. Ceryse has truly come to adore you like a sister.

Alys Harroway was the second wife and one of your closest friends, whom you mourned the loss of your friend deeply. She became pregnant with Maegor and quickly became happy and told you, leaving you excited and Tyanna jealous.

Alys was your closest friend, protective and calm. Her obsession with you was hidden but it was there, and she fiercely protected you from anyone. She wanted to be your only confidence and only friend and that was her undoing, after the disastrous birth.

Tyanna of the Tower was Maegor's most feared wife, and your friend. She was kind and courteous to you, staying by your side and whispering sweet and poisonous words in her ear. She wanted you for herself, not for Maegor or anyone else, she wanted you.

She was largely responsible for Alys' downfall, and Tyanna, even though she liked you, would still be willing to deal with you if you got in her way. She loved sharing you with Maegor, when the three of you slept together and she caressed your belly, sincerely hoping for a child that would be not just yours, but hers as well.

You loved them, all of them, but you couldn't help but feel awkward, especially with Tyanna. However, after Alys' death and the confession that Tyanna was to blame for the abominations being born, she was killed by Maegor and he soon took three wives at once. The Black Brides.

Elinor Costayne was the youngest and the most delicate, gentle and sweet. She quickly warmed up to you and soon stuck to you like gum, much to her surprise. Maegor didn't seem bothered by this, however.

Even after her fertility was proven and she managed to get pregnant with Maegor, the child was stillborn and with wings. She survived the birth, however, and clung to you as a source of protection and affirmation against her husband.

Rhaena Targaryen was one of Maegor's most fearless wives, perhaps because she was from the House of Dragon. She never wanted to marry him, but she was forced to and found comfort with you, in her friendship with you, and came to love you like a sister, in the Targaryen way.

She viewed Maegor with bad eyes and as a threat not only to her but to you. Rhaena couldn't let anything hurt you, not when she was already so attached to you. Her obsession grew and she felt jealous of Maegor when he was with you. It was just a matter of time.

Jeyne Westerling was shy and beautiful, with dreams that didn't include marrying Maegor, but one good thing came out of that marriage, and that was you. You were her only friend in the midst of all this and she considered you above everything and everyone.

You could still feel the fear in Jeyne's voice when she found out she was pregnant, the terror she was feeling. She cried in your arms when she found out, fearing she wouldn't be able to carry a healthy child. You tried to comfort her, but it was in vain, not when she gave birth to yet another abomination and died after giving birth.

You mourned the loss of your friend and Maegor the loss of what could have been a son. Now it was up to you, his beloved wife, to give him what he wanted so much. You were afraid of him, but Maegor loved you in his own way.

Possessive and incredibly cruel, he has no qualms about killing anyone who looks at you the wrong way. You are his, his wife, his Queen. Not from others.

Your life with him would be difficult and although you found comfort in your friendships with the other wives, you still felt lonely, far from your family, and forbidden to leave the Red Keep.

Maegor's possessiveness worsened when he discovered your pregnancy and this time he would be sure he would have the heir he so desired. It doesn't matter what means he has to take for this. You will give birth to a healthy and strong child.

Your fate was sealed the moment he chose you to be his wife.

[sarahisslytherin]

duty and honor.

cregan stark x tyrell!reader

summary: it has been decided. you are to wed the young lord stark. you know little of him or the north but will do your duty. this, however, does not release you from your worry of how the union will go or how you will settle into your role as lady of winterfell. luckily, cregan takes it upon himself to make you feel at home.

contains: fluff, people rooting for a bedding ceremony.

a/n: i am so in love with this man i need to be restrained.

word count: 2k

The carriage rocked on the road to Winterfell, your ocean blue gown ruffling as it did. You tried your best to ignore the wild beat of your heart in your chest, tried focusing instead on the growing pines that passed your window with increasing speed. Your mother sat at your side, a stoic presence that soothed you somehow. You took her hand in your own, and when she looked at you you didn’t have it in you to mask your utter fear. 

“You will be alright, child.” she sighed, bringing that same hand up to cup your cheek. “Lord Stark is a good man. I know you will be far from all that you know, but surely you will grow to love your new home as well as your betrothed.”

When you finally came to a halt outside its gates, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You clutched your mother’s hand like a frightened babe when they drew open. The courtyard was full of expectant faces you knew you would eventually commit to memory. The townspeople were out and about, young rosy-cheeked girls squealing with delight as they spotted your carriage. Their soon-to-be Lady was within it, and you could only hope when the time came that you would not fall short of their expectations. They watched keenly as you stopped before them one final time, and you prepared to be devoured by hungry, prying eyes. You tugged on the fur lining of your cloak as your mother stepped down from the carriage. You quickly followed suit.

Indeed, you could feel their glares cutting clean through you. You had known enough ladies and lords to know they were searching for faults and virtues to remark upon as soon as you were out of earshot, but there were so many faces you could not focus on a single one. 

Instead your gaze swiftly fell upon the mountain of a man that was the young Lord Stark. His chestnut locks fell in such a manner that they delicately framed a rather rugged face, on which a scowl seemed to be permanently etched. But this was to be expected. It was common knowledge that smiles were rare amongst Northmen. Though winter was still months away, he was already cloaked head to toe in furs, an uncommonly large sword strapped across the broad expanse of his back. 

“Lady Y/N, welcome to Winterfell.” he rasped, his voice quite gravelly and masculine for so young a man. You offered him a small curtsy in return, but couldn’t quite muster up the agreeable smile your mother had asked you to perfect on the way here. You tried your best not to gawk as you took in the ancient castle, trailing behind Lord Stark as he strode through Winterfell’s stony halls. The biting cold of the north left your bones as you approached the hearth in the Great Hall. 

You listened as your mother exchanged pleasantries with members of Lord Stark’s court, though your eyes did not leave the dancing flames and glowing embers.

“You’re a long way from Highgarden.” he said as he came to stand beside you. His accent was harsh, the vowels flat and words clipped, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it somewhat pleasant to your ear.

You turned to regard him. Gods, he was beautiful. The fire cast his features in a golden hue, the color returning to his cheeks. He was a sight to behold, powerful and perhaps even fearsome, but in this moment so soft. You wondered what your future with him would look like. Would he take a liking to you? Would he hate you? When you eventually gave him children, would they take after their mother or father? Would it be a life worth living?

“Yes, my Lord.” you sighed, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. “A long way indeed.”

The muted ivory of your gown made you appear one with the snow of the Godswood. Your hair was unbound, save for the intricate braiding around the crown of your head. Only the moon’s and torches’ light showed you the way to the weirwood tree. Your father swiftly came to your side, looping your arm in his. He offered you a gentle caress along your icy cheek, a solemn look about his face as if watching a spring rose being sacrificed to the unforgiving cold of winter. Wordlessly, you began to walk.

Despite the North’s fame for brutal winters and even more brutal people, you couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of the Godswood. So still was it, that you could have sworn you felt its ancientness in your bones, could feel every ring of age around each tree stump. Snowflakes danced on their way down, coming to land upon strands of your hair. It was then that you saw him before the weirwood, his lips drawn into a thin line. He was covered in dark furs and a cloak, his hands clasped behind his straightened back. 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” The words were spoken by a family ward. 

“Y/N of the House Tyrell.” your father replied. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” 

You watched as Lord Stark approached, towering over you. You hoped you would grow accustomed to it, to him. You held your breath when he spoke. “Cregan of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” 

You dared to look up, to meet his gaze. You found nothing but gentleness in them. “Who gives her?” Your father spoke his name. And now the ward asked you the question. 

“Lady Y/N, will you take this man?”

You could feel the overbearing weight of watchful eyes, of held breaths and keen ears. But Cregan’s eyes hadn’t left yours, determined to hold your gaze. You could have sworn a flicker of joy shone in them when you gasped out. 

“I take this man.”

Cregan offered you a shy curl of his lips, then took your hands in his. You noted that they were far smaller in comparison to his weathered hands as he led you to the trunk of the weirwood tree. Its face provided you with some strange comfort. Perhaps the gods would heed your prayers. Perhaps they were watching over you as you both knelt before the trunk. Silence fell upon the Godswood as the wedding party prayed. No sooner had the moment passed that you and your now husband rose to your feet. Cregan’s large hands reached around you to gingerly remove your cloak, a golden Tyrell rose embroidered upon it by your mother. 

You shivered as the cold crept into your body, but were swiftly covered once again, this time in a Stark cloak, the wolf sigil stitched boldly enough for all to see. And just like that, it was done.

It was the first time you had seen him smile, truly smile, since you had arrived at Winterfell. From where you sat at his side on the dais, the entirety of the Great Hall stretched out before you. Jovial music filled the hall, and you watched the merry faces of Cregan’s men as they helped themselves to the wedding feast. Their chatter echoed on the stone walls, and for the first time since you had left Highgarden, you felt somewhat at home.

“Has Winterfell begun to grow on you, wife?” Cregan’s husky voice came from your left. When you turned to meet him he was wearing a boyish smirk. He was playing. You didn’t suspect the Wolf of the North had it in him.

“Well, it may be a while longer before that happens.” you sheepishly admitted, struggling to hold his intense gaze. “But I know I will come to love it.”

“Aye.” he said. “I know it will never be your true home, but I promise you I will do all in my power to make it the next best thing.” He placed his large hand atop your own, taking your palm and squeezing it gingerly. You were thankful for the gesture, and couldn’t ignore the flush of your cheeks that resulted from it.

“You’re timid.” he observed, only causing you further embarrassment. “It’s quite charming.”

“You may very well be the only person who finds it to be so. Even back home my soft temper has been known to irritate others. Most times people can barely hear me when I speak. I find it easier to keep to myself and observe.” you confessed. “I truly must grow a thicker skin if I am to survive amongst the wolves.”

“You won’t survive.” Cregan stated matter of factly. You whipped your head toward him with wide eyes at that, not prepared for what he would say next. “You will thrive.”

You felt your muscles loosen up once again, offering him an incredulous laugh.

“I am perfectly serious, my Lady.” he went on. “You will rule the North at my side.”

“I hardly think I am equipped to rule such an – unruly people, my Lord.” you tried to mask the nervous tremble of your hand as you brought your wine to your lips.

“Cregan.” he rasped. “Call me Cregan.” You nodded, eyes crinkling above a smile. He leaned in, as if he were about to tell you a most precious secret. “Sometimes all a beast truly needs is the touch of a gentle hand.” 

You backed away to meet his eyes. They held nothing but truth in them. Nothing but honor. But your moment was soon ended by the clamor of the wedding party. The men began to holler, whooping and howling in unison. “Time for the bedding!”

You had anticipated this, and you now braced yourself for the unpleasant experience of being hauled to a bed with Cregan. You had always known your first time would be like this, and though you loathed the idea, you could not alter tradition. It was a surprise to you when Cregan rose from his chair, planting his large hands on the dinner table before he spoke.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but there will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” he bellowed out through the hall in a voice so commanding it was an effort not to shrink in his presence. “And I won’t hear any complaints about it. It’s too lovely an occasion to taint with a brawl.”

The men did their best to mask their disappointed groans as they returned to their dinner. You weren’t quite sure what had prompted Cregan to make such a decision. Did he not like you the way you had hoped? Perhaps he thought you fit to rule by him, to be a figurehead, but not someone he could ever desire in earnest. He must have read the emotions as they crossed your face, because he quickly took his seat beside you again. 

“Are you well, my Lady?” he asked. You merely nodded in response. He gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze towards his. “When you wish it to happen it will be just the two of us, husband and wife. No prying eyes or ears.”

Warmth bloomed in your heart at the words. It was as if he had quieted the growing storm in your mind with only the touch of a hand. A gentle hand.

“You are a man of honor, Cregan.” you said resolutely.

He only smiled in return as he brought you in closer, finally pressing his lips to yours. The touch sent sparks down your spine. It was in that moment you knew that spark would soon fan into a flame a thousand northern winds could not snuff out.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kingdomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[parkerslatte]

Blanket Fort

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N returns home from a long day of helping Feyre at the studio and her heart melts from what she finds.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Y/N entered her house, hushed whispers were heard coming from the living room. After a long day working at the studio with Feyre, all Y/N wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. She kicked off her shoes and entered the living room and immediately paused when she took notice of the mess of it.

Instead of the usual furniture set by the fireplace, it was pushed to the corners of the room in favour of the large blanket fort in the centre of the room. The hushed whispers were of course coming from inside. Despite the tiredness in her body, Y/N smiled.

“Daddy, is Mummy going to come in?” the voice of her six year old son whispered. Or in his case, just spoke aloud.

“Get her!” Her three year old daughter giggled.

“Alright, I’ll get her,” the voice of her husband said.

Y/N leaned against the doorway and watched how Azriel emerged from the blanket fort. With his wings it was a miracle he managed to fit inside. As soon as Y/N made eye contact with him, she simply fell in love with him all over again. His hair was a mess and stuck up in all directions and his eyes were sleepy. His shirt hung loosely on his body and was the one he would never be cause dead in outside the comfort of his home.

“Hey, honey,” Azriel whispered and pulled her body against his, resting his arms around her waist.

“Hey,” Y/N replied and lazily rested her arms over his shoulders. “So what is this all about?”

Azriel smiled. “Oh this? Just a little construction work. Robin has been bossing me and his sister around all day. Odessa has just been happy to help out her big brother.”

Y/N smiled and wished that she had been with her family. Y/N remembered when she first told Azriel she was pregnant with Robin, he had been over the moon. He had been protective before the pregnancy but during it, Y/N couldn’t even go to the kitchen without him trailing behind her. Y/N needed to beg Cassian and Rhys to take him out for a few days to give her a well needed break of the coddling.

After Robin was born, Azriel had a hard time bonding with him. Azriel blamed it on Robin constantly needing her but Y/N knew that it wasn’t the case. Y/N knew that Azriel didn’t see himself fit to be a father. He had never voiced these thoughts to Y/N but she could tell just from looking in his eyes. Azriel only held Robin when Y/N passed him to him. He would only interact with him when Robin crawled over to him. It was as if Azriel was afraid of tainting his son just from being around him.

It wasn’t until Y/N went on an overnight trip with Feyre that everything sorted itself out. When she returned that morning, Y/N expected Robin to be asleep in his crib but what she found was even more precious. Robin was fast asleep on Azriel’s chest and Azriel himself was asleep too, a protective hand on Robin’s back. Y/N had asked Feyre to paint the image which now proudly hung in their living room, a matching one of Azriel and Odessa next to it

After that night, Robin would always follow Azriel around. He had become one of his shadows. Robin tried to imitate Azriel. The way he stood, the way he walked. Even facial expressions. Despite Robin being born without wings, he always demanded Azriel to take him flying and pretend that he was flying himself. Robin idolised his father, it was as simple as that.

When Odessa was born, Azriel didn’t ever pull away from her. And of course, like Robin, Odessa would always follow her father around. And due to Odessa’s small wings poking from her back, she would always plead for Azriel to teach her how to fly, despite the lack of strength in her wings that could not support her weight yet.

Y/N never minded that her children always wanted Azriel. Of course they would always want her too, but Y/N knew that Azriel always needed to be reminded by his children how loved he really was. There were still some days where Azriel believed that he did not deserve the life he had and one those days, Y/N would leave the house and allow Azriel time with their children and all those thoughts would instantly wash away.

“I wish you could have been with us,” Azriel said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They have been asking for you since lunch.”

“Feyre needed a lot of help today, the class she was teaching was overbooked so I helped out a little longer than usual,” Y/N answered. “I wish I could have been here earlier.”

Azriel smiled and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into the kiss. The feel of his lips against hers was a pleasant feeling after her tiring day. However before she had a chance to fully savour it, small hands grabbed Y/N’s dress and tugged it.

“Mummy,” Robin said excitedly. “Look what we made!”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel and down to her son. She smiled upon seeing him. He definitely took after his father, even down to the shade of his eyes was a replica. The only difference was his nose, he had Y/N’s nose.

“Come on!” Robin said, now gripping onto Y/N’s hand.

Y/N allowed herself to be led by her son to the mass of blankets in the centre of the room. Y/N peeked inside and saw her daughter bundled amongst the pillows. Odessa laughed gleefully upon seeing her mother.

The space in the blanket fort was larger than she thought, mostly to allow Azriel to enter with his wings. Y/N shuffled inside and laid down next to her daughter. She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I missed you today.”

“Did you miss me too?” Robin asked, laying down on the other side of Y/N.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her son and kissed his cheeks. “Of course I did!” Robin tried to push Y/N away, yet the smile on his face and the giggles escaping him as his mother showered him with love betrayed his resistance.

“Daddy! Come back!” Odessa piped up and giggled as Azriel’s face came into view.

He crawled through the gap in the blankets, making sure to keep his wings tucked close to his body. As soon as he was inside, he laid down next to Robin and Robin immediately hugged his father.

Y/N watched Azriel’s face light up as Robin began to speak to him while gripping onto his shirt. Her heart couldn’t feel more full.

“Mummy.” Odessa’s voice caught Y/N’s attention.

Y/N smiled down at her daughter, wrapping her in a hug. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we sleep here?” Odessa asked.

Y/N looked at Azriel and he already looked ready to pass out. Y/N smiled. She returned her gaze to Odessa.

“I don’t see why not,” Y/N said.

Odessa let out a small noise of happiness before nuzzling into her mother's arms and closed her eyes. Y/N held onto her daughter and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“They are growing up too fast,” Azriel said quietly once the two children were asleep between them.

“I know,” Y/N said, reaching out her hand to hold onto Azriel’s. “I swear it was only yesterday we were celebrating Odessa’s first birthday.”

Azriel smiled as he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s palm. “What do you say about another one?”

“Another kid?” Y/N asked

“No, another dog,” Azriel teased. “Yes, another kid.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I remember a time where you were terrified to become a father. Look at you now, wanting more children who look exactly like you.”

“Odessa has your eyes and Robin has your nose. They take after you at least a small amount,” Azriel defended, teasing his wife.

Y/N chuckled. “So you want another one?”

“Only if you wanted to,” Azriel said. “I’ve been thinking since having Odessa that I like having a family. I like having children. And I’ve realised recently that I want a large family. I want more people to love.”

Y/N cupped Azriel’s cheek. “My love, I would love that too. But perhaps we don’t start trying for another child until Odessa is a little older. You know what Nyx was like when he first started to fly, imagine what it will be like with Odessa while also caring for another young baby.”

Azriel smiled. “That would be a nightmare.”

“I know it would be,” Y/N replied. “But having a large family is not a no. Let’s just enjoy what we have for now.”

“Okay,” Azriel said.

He looked down at his children and Y/N could see the unconditional love in his eyes.

“I never thank you enough for proving to me that I deserve this life, Y/N,” Azriel whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me, my love,” Y/N said, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You never need to thank me for something you figured out yourself.”

Azriel smiled in response. He carefully stretched one wing out and draped it over Y/N and the children, wrapping them all in a warm cocoon.

“You are going to ache in the morning,” Y/N said.

“I know,” Azriel said. “But it’s worth it to spend the night with my family like this.”

Y/N smiled. “We definitely need to take this down while Robin and Odessa go to Rhys and Feyre’s, otherwise they will want to sleep in it every night.”

“What’s going to be the excuse?” Azriel asked.

Y/N yawned. “We can figure that out in the morning or we can just take them for ice cream. They will forget all about it.”

Azriel smiled and wrapped his arm around his family. His fingers linked with Y/N’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied.

The small squeeze of Y/N’s hand and the gentle pull on that golden thread connecting their souls, Y/N was consumed by Azriel’s love for her and their family. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[potatoplace]

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

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[battymommastuff]

Of Songbirds and Phoenix

al Ghul!Batmom x Gotham Knights (CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM GOTHAM KNIGHTS!)

Prompt: After the death of Bruce Wayne, his wife had vanished from the city, and only returns when she knows her children are in danger.

When Wayne Manor blew up and Bruce Wayne had been pronounced dead, one of the biggest questions was the outcome of his wife. Y/n Wayne was at the manor the night it blew up, but her body had never been recovered. The wonderful investigators at GCPD brushed it off under the excuse that your body had been completely blown up. A bullshit reason, but they were too lazy to do an in depth investigation. Your family however, worried that your body had been buried under the rubble in the now destroyed batcave. 

Fortunately for them...everyone was wrong. Days leading up to your husband's death, he sent you away to investigate his latest case. The Court of Owls. A conspiracy theory that he believed to be true, and so he sent you overseas to investigate some other claims of this infamous cult. The conspiracy only detailed members from Gotham's wealthiest families, but he wanted to be thorough. Your investigation led you to your twin sister, Talia al Ghul. You figured out her plan at the same time that your children had, and you didn't hesitate on making your way back to Gotham. 

Talia's plan to take over Gotham had been foiled, all while you watched from a distance. It was Bruce's wish. He wanted his family to be able to take care of Gotham should he perish, and wanted them to have the chance to thrive. You granted that wish by watching your children from the shadows. They were trained well because several times they turned in your direction or almost caught you. 

Tonight, Bruce's wish wouldn't be met. You'd been stalking Robin since he left the Belfry. He was on a routine patrol. Take down the bad guys and protect the city. What he didn't notice were the several League of Shadow members tailing him. You noticed right away. They were using the same methods you were. Talia's doing no doubt. She wanted revenge, and would ambush your youngest son to get it. 

Robin had just finished the takedown of some Freaks when several puffs of smoke appeared all around him. He wasn't a stranger to an ambush from the league, but this was more than he was used to. Luckily he wasn't alone. Using his bo staff and sling shot, he quickly darted around taking down members of the League. However, it seemed that the more they took the...the more that appeared. 

"Get down, little bird!" A voice called out. Robin ducked down without hesitation and heard the sound of metal flying through the air then a scream of pain. Looking up, a shuriken was embedded in the chest of a league member. A female dropped down in front of Robin, wielding two beautiful katana's in her hands, "Talia?" He asked, in confusion. The figure turned towards him and he paled, "M-Mom?" 

"What the hell did you just say?" The voice of Red Hood spoke through the comms. Robin couldn't answer, all he could do was watch as you skillfully took down the League of Shadows members. When the last member went down, you sheathed your blades and made your way over to Robin, "Little bird? Are you injured?" You asked while kneeling down in front of him. His mask didn't have the white lenses so you saw how watery his eyes were, "M-Mom?" He whispered in disbelief. He'd been mouring you as well as Bruce for weeks now. Knowing that he wouldn't relax until you proved that he wasn't dreaming, you wrapped your arms around him. Robin collapsed against your chest with loud sobs escaping his chest. That was the confirmation that the rest of the team needed. You were alive. 

After calming down enough to drive, Robin drove you both back to the Belfry on the bike. He held your hand in a death grip from the moment you stepped off of the bike. Tim had been so torn up about losing his parental figures that he wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon. The doors opened, and you hesitantly stepped in. There you saw what remained of your family. 

Dick looked like he wanted to cry and pass out at the same time

Alfred was holding back his tears behind a relieved smile

Barbara had a few tears slipping from her eyes, but kept trying to wipe them away. 

Jason was staring holes into the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at you. 

Dick was the first one to walk towards you, "You're really here?" He asked so softly, you almost didn't hear him. He gently touched your face, hair and shoulders. If anyone had been mouring you harder than Tim, it was Dick. You'd raised him since he was eight years old. He dug through piles of rubble with his bare hands looking for you, and here you were. Completely unharmed. 

"I'm here, my songbird." Dick wrapped his arms around you, nearly crushing you against his chest. Tim let go of your hand to give you this moment with your oldest son. Dick was the leader of this team. Batman's chosen successor. The one who was supposed to be the strongest, and yet he fell apart once he hugged his mother. He didn't have to be the strongest with her. He could be that eight year old boy again. The one that ran to her whenever he had a nightmare. The one who would gush over him and mend all of his wounds from his time as Robin, "How are you here? We thought you died?" He asked, pulling away from you. 

"Bruce sent me away to investigate the Court. They originate here in Gotham, but he heard rumors of other sightings in the middle east as well as the UK. He wanted this to be as covert as possible. That's why he told Tim I left for a business trip for Wayne Enterprises. If the world thought I was dead, then I could continue my investigation from the shadows." You were an al Ghul by blood. You were raised as a killer and taught to use the shadows to your advantage. Before his death, Bruce made you swear to never take another life while with him. Now that he was gone...you had no one to keep the vow to. 

Alfred and Barbara joined Dick with several tear filled hugs and questions. Tim was glued to your side, only leaving to change out of his suit, "Why did you come back?" You turned away from Barbara to look over at Jason. His jaw was clenched, and his arms crossed over his chest, "You didn't bother to reach out after Bruce's death, so why bother now?" Everyone, but you had glares on their faces. 

"My phoenix, I wanted to reach out. The moment I heard of Bruce's death, I wanted nothing more than to be right here with you all. I stayed away as a promise to Bruce. I'm glad I did. You all did so much more than what I could have. I'm so proud of you all. Especially you, Jason." 

Watching this big brute of a man melt at the words from a woman much smaller than him was a funny sight. Jason visibly relaxed and you wrapped him up in a warm hug. He hugged you back tightly, and let out a shaky breath. 

"I missed you, Mom. So much."

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!!!Author's Note!!

Sorry for going MIA for so long. I have been very busy, but I am hopefully going to be back in action soon. I've been working on a new series for this blog that I'm excited to present to you all! Enjoy this little imagine, and I hope to see you all very soon! <3 ~ Batty