#it’s like the sweet embrace of death | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-coloureddfunk · 24 days ago

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And When You Move, I'm Moved, joel miller

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ daddy kink, p in v, riding, dirty talk, soft joel, hurt & comfort if you squint, praise kink, use of pet names ( baby girl, sweet girl, etc )

it's past christmas but I had this idea and fell in love with it and procrastination will be the death of me...

The night seemed to drag on forever.

It was almost 12:35, and Joel hadn’t come home yet— a broken promise that he had whispered in the morning, with a kiss to the tip of your nose, crossing his heart that he’d be back in time to hold you once more and open presents.

Supplies were running low in Jackson, including penicillin and other medications that would be useful for a rainy day. Selfishness claws at the edges of your thoughts each time he has to go, a relentless whisper that begs him to stay—to choose the warmth of home and the safety of you over the unknown out there. It gnaws at your resolve, urging you to tell him to forget about the world, to let it fend for itself, and to stay here where it’s quiet, where it’s just the two of you.

Instead, you put your heart’s desires to rest, giving him a meek nod as you kissed the lips, which you came to know as your own goodbye. It wasn’t fair. However, nothing was ever fair when it came to your Joel.

At his core, your Joel was a giver— the kind of man who would give until his knees buckled from beneath him, and even then you were sure he’d pour what little remained of himself into the world. He bled for you, his devotion etched in every sacrifice he made, and though he’d never admit it, he bled for Jackson too, an unspoken loyalty for the town he called your home.

So if Jackson needed something, Tommy and him were always the first ones to act.

And all you could do was wait.

But the worst part wasn’t waiting. It wasn’t the fear of hypotheticals or counting every star in the sky and praying on each one that he’d be alright. It was the knowing. Knowing that one day your Joel might not find his way back into the safety of your embrace. That one day, the fucked up world around you might win. And it was as obvious to you as it was to those around you— you wouldn’t be able to endure that. The possibility of leading a life without him because to you, he is the world.

Joel is the sun and moon, and the stars are him.

You shift subconsciously on the bed, hands gripping the white sheets, a desperate attempt to ground yourself from this nightmare. You wanted to wake up. You wanted to wake up in his arms, the feeling of his breath fanning against your neck— a tangible reminder that he was yours. You longed to trace the outline of his nose with your eyes like you always did when he was fast asleep next to you— not wanting to surrender to sleep because that would mean another moment spent without him.

And yet, somehow, even in sleep, you still dreamt of him. Always him.

Then, amid the deafening silence that accompanied the dark, the door creaked open slowly. You blinked in an attempt to focus on the figure that lingered in the doorway. It stepped through, gently shutting the door behind, and you saw him— Joel, Your Joel.

The exhaustion on his face doesn’t go unnoticed; bright eyes now sunken, and the pink plush lips you had kissed in the morning were red and irritated, no doubt from the harsh weather. Eyes bloodshot from fighting sleep.

“Joel…” You could finally breathe, rushing to your feet. You leaped out of bed and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pressing your face against his jacket's material, you felt his heart's rhythmic beat. He was here. He was safe.

“M’okay.” He soothed, lips brushing the top of your head as his arms came around you, “M’here, baby. M’here.”

You guide him to sit at the edge of your bed, standing between his legs as they rest on either side of you. He reaches out slowly, arms wrapping around you to pull you into his lap by habit. Once you’re there, you get a closer look at his face with the help of a nearby lamp. Small cuts adorn his face, and a prominent one that you notice lies on the bridge of his nose.

Tommy and him weren’t the only ones searching for supplies.

You cup his face gently, fingers ghosting the gray whiskers of his beard. He leans into your touch, eyes closed, completely melting at the contact. He shudders at the feeling of your lips pressing against every knick that taints his skin. Whoever did this to your Joel, you wish the weight of their cruelty returned tenfold—a life heavy with regret and haunted by shadows, never to know the peace they carelessly stole from him.

“C’mon, baby girl, let's get you to bed.” He rests his forehead against yours, fingers caressing your sides with a feather-light touch, “S’real late.”

Ever the giver. Even in the quietest moments, he pours what’s left of himself into you.

You shake your head gently, fingers coming up to undo the buttons of his winter coat. Once the constricting material is off, his shaky hands work on his favorite green flannel. He curses under his breath as his hands tremble. They feel numb and stiff from the biting cold, refusing to obey his commands. Frustration flickers across his face as he struggles with the flannel buttons, his breath coming in shallow puffs of irritation.

"I can't... damn it," he mutters, the words edged with a helpless kind of anger—his fingers fumble, clumsy and uncooperative.

Placing your hands over his, you offer him a sympathetic smile and take over, undoing each button for him. He shrugs off the flannel, leaving the sight of his broad chest in front of you, revealing another scar, though this one is more familiar. It lay above his lower stomach, and you’d seen in passing within these same four walls when the man in front of you whispered filthy things into your ear, the weight of his naked body against yours, holding your hand as he fucked you into the mattress he was now sitting on.

Still, on his lap, you moved to work on Joel’s pants, using your hands to rub at the top of his inner thigh gently. His grip on your sides tightened slightly as he let out a strained breath, peering at you through hooded eyes. Now, standing between his legs, you peel off his jeans and boxers, throwing them to the side of the bed to deal with another day.

Joel’s hand comes to toy with the thin strap of your nightie; his fingers dig under the silk, slowly dragging both straps down your arms to reveal your naked body to him. His eyes dance along your chest, admiring the swell of your breast and the sight of your nipples that harden from the chilly air in the room. He pulls you into him, kissing the valley of your breast to the exposed skin of your neck. You giggle softly at the familiar beard scruff tickling your soft skin.

Your hand drifts between your bodies, finding his aching cock. Wrapping your hand around his girth, he twitches in your hand with a low moan. You knew what he needed– Relief. And you’d be more than willing to provide that for him.

“Take those off f’me, baby.” He removes his hands, letting his eyes drift to your panties, the only thing shielding all of you from him. You hooked your fingers around the soft cotton material, yanking them down so they could pool at your legs. You stepped out of your panties and closer to Joel, watching his hefty hand stroke up and down his cock, watching you unravel yourself for him and him only.

“Wanna take care of you daddy.” Your hands find his shoulders, rubbing them to soothe the ache he felt from the day. Joel did so much for you. He kept you safe and full in many ways without expecting anything in return. You’d never lift a finger as long as he was around, and that was apparent from the first time he took you to bed and made you cum two times with his fingers and once with his mouth. Sometimes, you wanted him to be selfish because he deserved it more than anyone.

“You’re so sweet, baby girl.” He smiles up at you, still pumping his cock. Your eyes fall to his length and the bush of wiry hairs above it, “Gonna ride daddy’s cock n take care of him real good? Make him feel better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Spit on daddy’s cock, baby.”

You lean down to his length, eyes meeting his as he gives you a nod of approval. You gather the salvia in your mouth, letting it fall from your lips to his length. Joel’s eyes darkened, watching your spit drip down the head of his cock onto his shaft.

“One more time.”

You spit once more, and Joel removes his hand completely, arms reaching out for you. You step towards him, letting his hands find their way onto your hips. He pulls you into his lap once more, positioning you to his liking– both of your knees on either side of him as your wet entrance hovers over his cock. Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel the hot tip of him rub against the wetness of your core.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, eyes closed. His hands hold you firmly in place. “She’s dripping onto me– filthy girl gonna ruin these sheets.”

You whined, trying to move yourself onto him, but Joel was stronger, able to manipulate you however he wanted. You let out a sigh, just wanting anything he would give to dull the ache between your thighs.

Joel tsked, “Be patient baby, m’gonna make you feel better.” He moves you forward just enough so his tip catches at the notch of your cunt, “Daddy spoils you so much that you're always used to getting your way, hm?”

You gasped, burying your face into the crook of his neck at the feeling of his cock against your clit, “No, Daddy, m’your good girl, promise!”

Joel’s hand gently cupped your face, his fingers softly caressing your skin as if to reassure you that he was just teasing. He knew you were spoiled objectively but loved being the one to indulge you. More than that, he loved how much you needed him. It gave him a sense of purpose, something he would never tell you himself. He thrived on being the one you turned to, the one you trusted to take care of you. Knowing that you relied on him, that you needed him in ways no one else could. It wasn’t just indulgence; it was connection, it was love, and it was everything he never knew he craved.

With his other hand, Joel moved you back to your original position hovering above him as he guided you to sink onto his cock. Joel’s hand was steady on your head, forcing your gaze to meet his own, already pushing you further down on himself. You moaned at the slight ache fading into pleasure from his size, splitting you open.

“You’re doing so good, baby, y’almost there.” Joel sighed, eyes glancing down to where your bodies met. He was painfully hard from the sight of him completely stuffing you full, “Gonna give you some more.”

“Daddy.” You whined, body slumping forward in Joel’s grip as he pushed you down so you could take all that he was giving you. He was thick and hot inside of you, his member pulsing at the feeling of being where he’d longed to be– and almost always ended up every night.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” He soothed, kissing your cheek. He let you move against him a bit, letting you feel how deep he was inside you. Your gaze cast downwards to see where you disappeared inside of him, his cock buried snugly in your warmth.

Joel’s hands guided you up and down, setting the rhythm for you to mimic. You held a death grip on his shoulders, rolling your hips on top of him, a little cautious, not wanting to disappoint him. Joel noticed your apprehension and offered you an encouraging smile, his warm and steady gaze melting away your nerves. He knew how much you wanted to be his good girl, but to him, there was nothing you could ever do that would disappoint. Even if you faltered, even if you stumbled, in his eyes, you could never truly fall short.

“Fuck, look at you. Got the prettiest thing in all of Jackson bouncin’ on my lap.” He praised you with a moan, throwing his head back and focusing on how well your body always took him, “Doing such a good job for daddy.”

You watched Joel’s eyes rake all over your naked form, moaning when you’d sink back down onto his cock. His hands had reclaimed their place at your sides, moving you against him at a faster pace. One of your hands came to rest on the side of his face as you asked breathily, “Like this?”

You rode him at the pace he wanted, pulling his forehead to rest against your own, wanting to feel him as close as possible, though it probably wasn’t possible. Close would never be enough for you. You’d always want more when it came to Joel. The dark hairs at the base of his cock brushed against your clit whenever you sank onto him, spurring you on further.

“So fuckin’ sweet to me.” He nodded, confirming your earlier question, one hand gripping at your breasts as he licked at the nipple of the other. His tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves making your back arch in pleasure. He loved how you wanted to please him. You really were his good girl. He pulled his mouth off with a pop, “S’just what you needed huh? My perfect girl’s little pussy was just beggin’ t’be full o’me?”

You wanted to respond, but the feeling of him engulfing you made it impossible. Your face contorted the feeling of euphoria rushing over you when you felt Joel’s hips move upward on their own accord, meeting your movements to fuck you even harder.

Joel.

It was like a mantra in your head. It was all too much.

‘Daddy, I– I think m’ gonna-” You whined into the crook of his neck. Joel knew your body well enough that he didn’t need you to tell him when you were close; he always felt it. He felt your hot tears drip onto his chest, bringing his hand up to tangle into your hair as he kept up his powerful thrusts into you.

“Cum for me baby girl, s’okay you can do it.” He breathed out, his hand stroking your scalp, “I’ll take care of you. Let go f’me.”

So you did. You came hard, trying to muffle your cries by covering your mouth with Joel’s shoulder, which was damp from your tears. Your walls gripped Joel’s cock, throbbing as you came undone on top of him, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. With what little energy he had left, both of his hands came to grip the undersides of your thighs as he fucked into you.

His hips stuttered, a sign to you that he was going to come as well. Your walls squeezing him allowed that final push he needed as he emptied himself into you.

You were both left wrecked. Heavy breathing against sweaty skin pressed against each other. Joel’s arms enveloped you, gently rubbing your back as you tried to catch your breath, “Stay inside, please?”

“Okay, baby,” he chuckled, burying his nose in your hair and taking a deep breath. Your head rested on his shoulder as he held you close, keeping you pressed firmly against him. “Do you still want to open presents?”

“After round two, definitely.”

#joel miller #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou smut

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aemondtargaryengf · 7 months ago

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hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

#jia.writes ♡#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys #jace targaryen #jace velaryon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you

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illyrianbitch · 28 days ago

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In Every Universe

Pairing: Reader x Azriel, Minor Elain x Lucien

Summary: Elain catches you asking Azriel if you're destined to be together in every universe.

Warnings: mostly fluff, pining, soulmatism, brief mentions of violence/blood/death, elain as your no.1 shipper, elucien being sweet

Word Count: 3.9k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The wood of the doorframe was rough beneath Elain’s fingers as she lingered in the opening.

Elain loved the Day Court—the sun-kissed glow of her skin, the endless warmth that felt like home. But every now and then, it was healing to return to her family, to see them, to know they were okay. Visits to the Night Court with Lucien at her side were rare since they’d started their family, but they always felt meaningful. There was a peace in these nights, a quiet place to rest and breathe. And sometimes, it gave her this: a glimpse of the people she loved, caught in the small, unspoken ways they cared for one another.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the celestial device. Feyre had told her about it, but Elain’s mind had forgotten to store away the proper name. She blamed it on her pregnancy brain at the time of the conversation. The device glowed as it slowly spun, scattering faint patterns of light over you and Azriel as you stood together, watching in awe.

It was slightly ironic to Elain that she was able to sneak up and observe such an intimate moment without Azriel, the most-feared Spymaster, noticing. But, in all truth, she wasn’t entirely surprised. You and Azriel had your own world, held moments that seemed like they existed only for you two—even Azriel’s shadows became something else entirely, something distracted and completely enamored with you.

“It’s… beautiful,” you said, the words reverent. “Gods, what a wonder we live in.”

Azriel hummed a sound that sounded a lot like agreement— like complete contentment. Elain recognized it slightly, almost felt compelled to compare it to the cat that Vassa and Jurian had dubbed the true ruler of the mortal lands. She stifled a laugh at the thought.

You pointed at something—a star, perhaps—and said something Elain couldn’t hear, your voice too soft. Azriel tilted his head toward you and his shadows swirled around you both, gentle and calm tendrils wrapping themselves through the edges of your hair strands. Azriel murmured something back, and though Elain couldn’t catch the words, she saw the way they made you smile.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he reached out, scarred fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch was light, practiced, and it made him look entirely at home. Of course it did. He’d done it a hundred times before. You didn’t flinch or startle—didn’t even pause. Instead, you tilted into him slightly, the curve of your smile deepening.

Elain’s heart blossomed. She wondered, for a brief, fleeting moment, if anyone had seen such moments with her and Lucien– wondered if her eyes glowed just like yours.

Azriel shifted his gaze to you, and Elain could have sworn she watched his eyes dilate even from feet away. His thumb grazed your temple as he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

You leaned into the brush of his fingers. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Azriel repeated, amused. His thumb drew a lazy circle across your skin. “I can practically see the gears turning in there.”

A laugh. You shrugged, and a glimmer of amusement sparkled in your eyes. “It just makes me wonder.”

“About?”

Elain found herself leaning forward slightly, awaiting your answer as if she had been talking to you herself. You casted a glance back at the device before you.

“What else is out there, you know?” You tilted your head in contemplation, and Azriel pulled you into a soft embrace as you continued, “And that Bryce girl. I mean, if there are other worlds like hers, do you think…”

Azriel wrapped his arms around your center, placing an affectionate kiss to your clothed shoulder. Then, he placed his head into the crook of your neck. “Do I think what, my love?’

You turned your head to meet his eyes. “Do you think we’re together in each of them?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his silence thoughtful rather than hesitant.

And then the room began to shift. Or maybe it was just Elain. She stood up straighter and took a deep breath as the device before you both blurred, its golden light fracturing into something softer, quieter— a divine invitation.

Elain let herself be pulled through.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The cannon fire echoed like thunder.

One, then another, and another still.

Azriel’s head tilted. “Two,” he murmured. “Close.”

You couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Your mind raced through the possibilities—faces you’d seen only hours ago. A girl in the meadow. That boy with the scar. Maybe someone who’d deserved it. Maybe someone who hadn’t.

“So that makes it five.” You gripped the hilt of your blade tighter, sweat slipping down your palm. “Besides us, there's only five left.”

Azriel was quiet.

“Come on,” he said, already turning. “You need to head east, away from the canons. I’ll lead them away from you.”

You caught his wrist. It was instinct, almost violent, and your nails dug into his skin. “No.”

He stopped. Turned back slowly, and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I’m not leaving you behind. We finish this together. You can’t keep putting yourself—”

“I can,” he cut in, voice cold. “And I will.”

“I won’t let you.”

Something cracked in his expression then. His lips parting like he wanted to argue, like he was ready to fight.

“Let me?” he repeated, his voice low. Dangerous. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“And you don’t get to decide for me.”

There was a silence that filled the space between you. Your hand, still wrapped around his wrist, softened into something almost reminiscent of a lover's hold.

“Don’t make me watch you die,” you said finally. “Don’t do that to me, Azriel.”

His eyes softened just enough to hurt.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive.”

“Why?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. “You can win this. You know you can. Why throw away your chances for me?”

His mouth opened, then closed. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like the words were too heavy to say. But when his gaze met yours, there was no hesitation.

“You know why.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“It’s the same reason you killed that girl from six.” His voice was quiet. “For me.”

You didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. His hand, warm and calloused, brushed the back of your fingers.

“So don’t ask me to stop,” he said. “The capitol has taken so much from me. They’ve destroyed everything I cared about. I won’t let them take you. Not while I’m still breathing.”

A loud crack sounded in the distance. The world shifted again, a soft breeze carrying with it a sky speckled with stars.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cicada songs threaded through the air like an ancient hymn. You sat near the embers of a dying fire, the orange glow licking against the edges of the stone walls surrounding you.

Azriel sat a few paces away, his back resting against one of the columns. His tunic was simple, sandals dusty from the day’s travel, but there was something about the way he held himself that made him seem as much a part of the night as the stars overhead.

“Do you think they truly listen?” you asked him.

Azriel’s gaze flicked to you. “The gods?”

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. Your eyes were glued to the heavens above, to the glistening stars that seemed to be leaning closer, listening.

“They hear everything,” he responded. “The question is whether they care.”

You turned to him then, the corner of your lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “You don’t honor them?”

Azriel’s eyes scanned your face before he responded simply, “I’ve been given no reason to.”

“And you aren’t afraid of angering them?”

“I’m afraid of man more than I am of the gods.”

A flicker passed through your face, something thoughtful, contemplative. “What would you pray for, if you thought they did listen?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His scarred hands rested on his knees, the firelight painting shadows across them. There was a weight in his silence, a deliberation that pressed against the edges of the night. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before, almost a confession.

“I’d ask them to leave us be. To let us live without their meddling.”

You studied him. The sincerity of his words seemed to tug at something in your chest. “You think they’d grant a prayer like that?”

Azriel’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “No,” he said simply. “But I’d still ask.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “Stubborn,” you murmured, though your tone was warm.

When he fell silent again, you observed him once more. “What else is on your mind?”

Azriel didn’t answer right away. His gaze turned back to the fire, as if searching for something in its depths. “You could be one.”

You blinked at him, thrown. “One what?”

“A god,” he said, his eyes shifting to meet yours. “A proper one. A kind one.”

Your chest tightened, nerves prickling at the edges of your mind. “Azriel,” you said, your voice low, almost a warning. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “If I can see it, do you think they can’t?”

You glanced up at the stars, as if expecting them to strike him down then and there. “Because it’s not for us to claim,” you whispered. “And because it’s not true.”

Azriel leaned in slightly. “It is true,” he said, as though daring you to contradict him. “You stand apart. You always have.”

“Azriel—”

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softening. “If they did listen, if they cared, they’d envy what I see in you.”

You didn’t know how to answer. Azriel reached out then, his scarred hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. You swallowed hard.

“And what of you?” You asked. “If I’m to be a god, would you be one, too?”

He shook his head and a sweet smile made its way onto his face. His brows furrowed softly. Your fingers twitched as if you ached to smooth the crease between them.

“I think I was born to follow you.”

The fire light around you flickered, and the music of the cicadas began to reverberate, stretching and pulling like a ribbon in the wind. Soon, sounds began to fill the air—smooth instruments, slow and electric.

Warping, stretching, bleeding into something else.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were perched on a velvet stool at the edge of the bar, watching the crush of dancers sway in time to the music. There was a faint scent of cigarette smoke that clung to the air, a smell that somehow mingled perfectly with the sharp tang of liquor and the sweetness of spilled champagne.

Azriel appeared beside you without a word. He wasn’t dressed to stand out— black suit, white shirt, no tie— but somehow, in the haze of golden light and shadow, he drew every glance. You adjusted the strap of your dress, the sequins catching what little light there was, throwing sparks of silver onto the walls.

“You’ve been hiding,” he said.

You turned your head to meet his gaze. There was something steady in it, like he’d been waiting for you to notice him. “I didn’t know I was being looked for.”

Azriel’s lips curved. “You always are.”

Your breath hitched, just enough to be noticeable, but you masked it with a sip of your drink— one with fading bubbles. “And here I thought I was just another face in the crowd.”

“Not to me,” Azriel said simply, as if it were the plainest fact on Earth. His gaze didn’t leave yours. “Never to me.”

The band transitioned into a slower tune, the saxophone drawing out a melody that made your face soften. You looked down to hide your growing smile, cheeks now rosy from Az’s attention.

“You’re not dancing,” he noted, eyes flicking briefly to the crowded floor.

“I don’t know if it's the right night for that.”

“Maybe you just need the right partner.”

The suggestion hung in the air, and when he held out his hand— scarred, steady— you didn’t hesitate to take it. He led you to the dance floor with a gentle hold, drawing you into his arms.

“You didn’t have to come find me,” you murmured, your gaze tracing the lines of his face.

Azriel’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a soft smile. “I’ll always find you.”

The music slowed, and the world softened with it.

And then, the light dimmed, fading into the deep, quiet shadows of something colder, untouched, an air heavy with the scent of pine and earth.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Two wolves emerged from the shadows, moving together, their coats brushing in fleeting touches. It was a quiet language— small movements of instinct and closeness. One was a shadow itself, dark fur absorbing the moonlight. The other was lighter, sleek and graceful, its movements quieter but no less assured.

The darker wolf paused, tilting its head toward its companion, a huff of warm breath visible in the chilled air. The lighter one hesitated, then stepped closer, nuzzling its muzzle against the dark wolf’s neck, a gesture of comfort—or reassurance. The dark wolf stilled at the touch, its golden-hazel eyes half-closing as if the simple act of connection mattered more than the world around them.

And then it turned, moving quietly into the heavy, shrouded forest. The lighter wolf turned to follow the dark one, glancing back only once before disappearing into the trees.

A sharp shift—the silence of the forest soon replaced by the soft crunch beneath leather winter boots.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You and Azriel approached the house ahead, its exterior draped in a plethora of colorful Christmas lights. The world was still, save for the muffled laughter drifting from inside, and you pulled your coat tighter against the cold.

“We’re late,” you murmured, quickening your step.

Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “I doubt they mind.”

You shot him a pointed look, but Azriel only chuckled again. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.When you reached the door, your hand had barely touched the handle before Azriel stopped you, his hand brushing yours. You glanced up at him, frowning, only to catch the cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he tilted his chin toward the frame.

There, hanging above the doorway, was a sprig of mistletoe.

“Mistletoe,” you said with a sweet hum. You met Azriel’s eyes.

“Cassian or Nesta?” He asked.

“Definitely Nesta,” you said. “She loves her romance.”

He nodded in agreement. “It is a romantic tradition.”

Azriel stepped closer, lifting a hand to cradle your face as he kissed you—soft and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, your cheeks warmed under his gaze, his forehead brushing yours as he whispered, “I love you.”

The words were soft, meant just for you.

“I love you, t—”

The door sprang open and a shrieking voice filled the air with an excited, “Momma!”

You barely had time to turn before your son barreled into your arms, his eyes bright and his arms outstretched. You caught him easily, lifting him with a grin.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hey, buddy,” Azriel said, leaning over to ruffle his messy curls. His mini-me only giggled and nuzzled deeper into the crook of your neck. A true momma’s boy. From inside, more laughter echoed, and Cassian appeared around the corner, grinning wide as he carried your daughter—upside down—by her ankles. Her delighted shrieks filled the house.

“Cassian!” you called, trying to suppress a laugh.

“What? She loves it!” Cassian shot back, clearly pleased with himself.

“Put her down,” you said, stepping inside as Azriel snorted behind you.

Cassian finally relented, lowering her to the ground. She didn’t hesitate, darting forward to wrap her arms around Azriel. She barely reached his hip, and he crouched slightly, holding her close like it was second nature.

“Sorry we’re late,” you said, closing the door. You wiped your shoes on the matt below you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nesta’s voice said, drifting into the room before she rounded the corner from the kitchen. Her hair was in a loose bun, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She stopped at Cassian’s side, offering her husband a small nudge. “Our date nights always run late too.”

Her daughter trailed behind her, blue eyes already half-rolling. "Yeah. We need to talk about punctuality in this family."

She breezed past you and Azriel, offering you both quick hello’s before darting up the stairs.

Nesta rolled her eyes, but the action was affectionate. Comfortable. “Teenagers,” she muttered. Cassian slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. “She’s going through a phase.”

“Heard that!” came a sharp voice from upstairs.

You stifled a laugh, glancing at Azriel. His eyes widened slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a crooked, almost reluctant smile—amused, exasperated, and entirely Azriel.

Nesta gestured toward your son, now half-asleep against your shoulder, and your daughter, who was eagerly tugging Azriel toward the living room to show off the fort her and Cassian had made. “Enjoy this,” Nesta said with a smirk. “While it lasts.”

A dreamy smile spread across your face as you watched them. “Oh, Nes,” you said softly. “I plan to enjoy it all.”

The room seemed to shimmer, the sounds of laughter melting into something darker, quieter.

And then, without warning, the world changed.

Cold. Hollow. Dark.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“God, you look beautiful.”

You turned to Azriel, breathless, a wicked grin pulling at your lips. His golden-hazel eyes burned as they swept over you, lingering on the streaks of blood splattered across your cheek.

“You really think so?” you hummed, stepping closer, boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the floor. The room reeked of iron and fear, the man slumped against the wall choking on his last breaths.

Azriel tilted his head, his shadows twisting and curling at his feet like they were alive, waiting for a command. “I’d argue you’ve never looked more stunning.”

Your grin grew, something divinely sinful, and you pulled the gun from the back of your waistband. The barrel gleamed in the dim light. “Would you like the honors, my love?”

Azriel’s hand brushed yours as he took the gun— perfectly smooth skin speckled in streaks of red. “Of course.”

The man whimpered as Azriel crouched before him, his shadows licking at the edges of the room, swallowing the light. You didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as Azriel tilted the man’s chin with the barrel, his voice low and almost tender. You seemed proud, even. Powerful.

“You should’ve known better.”

With a single, swift pull of the trigger, it was over. Azriel stood, wiping the gun against his pants before turning back to you.

“The others are all yours,” he murmured, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, smearing blood across your temple.

“And they said romance was dead,” you said, leaning into his touch.

Azriel grinned, and for a moment, the bloodlust that had overtaken the room seemed to fade. He pulled you close, lips crashing onto yours in a brutal, animalistic kiss. When you finally pulled away, breathless and wild, Azriel’s gaze was sharp—hungry. His eyes gleamed with something darker now.

“You’re the only one who ever understands,” he whispered.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Elain?”

Elain gasped and snapped back to the present, her body slightly recoiling like a thread once strung tight. She blinked and turned her head, watching the beautiful face of her mate come into focus. His eyes were fixed on her, that familiar gleam in them.

“Hmm?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Where did you just disappear to?”

Lucien’s hand gently swept her curly hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, and allowed his palm to settle there— fingers brushing lightly against her skin, thumb grazing the underside of her jaw. Elain melted into the touch.

The remnants of her vision— of that twisted, vicious kiss between you and Azriel– still lingered at the edges of her mind, making her uneasy. But it was already fading, like a bad dream melting away in the morning light, as she looked at Lucien. The warmth of his touch steadied her, grounding her back into the reality of this life— something far less terrifying, far more full of light. Elain let her mind wander to the other thing she’d seen, to the cicada songs and the mistletoe.

“Let me tell you later.”

Lucien’s smile softened in that kind way that made Elain’s heart feel full, like it might spill over. “Alright,” he said.

“Oh, Elain, Lucien!”

Your voice broke the quiet, pulling their attention toward you as you approached, Azriel in tow. His shadows moved faster than he did, twisting around you in fluid motions, draping themselves over your limbs like they were part of you instead of the shadowsinger himself.

“Have you been here for long?” You asked as you met them at the doorway. “I’m so sorry we didn’t notice. We were in our own world.”

Azriel greeted her and Lucien with a small smile. But, as usual, his eyes drifted to you immediately, brightening in their glow as he watched you.

“No, no,” Lucien answered, noticing Elain hadn’t responded yet. “We were just making our rounds.”

You beamed. “Well, you should take some time in here. It’s beautiful.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Elain said softly.

You shook your head, glancing at Azriel for a moment before you leaned into him, placing a hand on his chest and giving it a light tap. “We’re actually about to leave. We’ve got reservations for our anniversary.”

“What does today mark?” Lucien asked.

Azriel’s voice was light as he wrapped an arm around you. “430 years.”

“Can you believe he’s put up with me that long?” you said, a teasing smile on your lips.

Lucien laughed. “I’d say its the other way around.”

Azriel laughed, then, too, rolling his eyes in a way that seemed so brotherly that Elain’s smile almost split her cheeks in two.

“You’re meant for one another,” Elain found herself saying. “Happy anniversary.”

Azriel nodded in thanks as you smiled and moved to leave. He patted Lucien’s shoulder as he brushed past, and Elain let her gaze linger on your retreating forms for a moment, catching another small moment as Az cheekily smacked your ass, causing you to let out a small amused shriek and push him away.

For a moment, Elain was almost tempted to ask Lucien the same question you’d asked Azriel: Do you think we’re together in each life? But it was silly– fruitless, really. Because Elain knew, with certainty, that she’d find her loyal, flame-branded mate in every universe. In every form.

She’d seen it herself.

So instead, Elain grabbed his hand, interlaced their fingers, and said, “Let’s admire our world.”

And as always, Lucien followed her without protest.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note:

I had a vision (tehehe) of this one shot and i dont think i did it justice but alas, here she is. also are you truly soulmates if you arent evil sociopathic villains in at least one universe? me thinks no

also fun fact, 5/6 of these au’s are scrapped ideas i’ve had🫣

thank you for reading <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻 (this so desperately needs to be updated, i fear):

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @paradisebabey

azriel tag list🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits

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gabessquishytum · 2 months ago

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Hob is like "match my freak" and Dream is like "your freak is that you want to live forever, I'm not matching that, I crave the sweet relief of death's embrace" and Hob is dragging Dream to therapy screaming "match. my. freak!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #this is the post canon relationship in a nutshell. to me

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 7 months ago

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Aemond x brothel reader 👀

So what if instead of Aemond visiting the older woman in yesterday’s episode - he goes to the brothel and immediately regrets it and is about to leave until he sees reader and is mesmerized by her beauty. They have their little moment and she gives him comfort. Definitely feel free to add more or change anything! This is just a thought that I’d like to see created. Thank you!

Request: Aemond and a brothel girl (maybe a dancer idk) like the scene in the episode. Except they are more intimate and not weird age gap like the madam. It gave me the ick… He truly feels for her.

Warnings: mention of (past) character death, mommy issues,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The mysterious customer under a cloak all piqued your curiosity. You never had the chance of properly seeing him, always immediately escorted to a private bed. Some girls said he was disfigured, and that it was the reason he covered himself with a cloak. Some said it was Aegon Targaryen, but you knew the newly crowned King favored Flea Bottom’s whores.

As you danced, your eyes would try to see through the veils he hid behind. To get a glimpse of him. But you never saw anything other than his bare feet. All you knew was that he was with Madam Sylvi and that he requested hot milk.

One late evening, you saw him leaving the veils. His cloak was on, but he saw you. He saw you dancing and moving your naked body to the rhythm of the music, entertaining the customers.

The next time he came by, he asked for you.

Madam Sylvi was not pleased, but he was the paying customer.

You reminded him of his mother — physically —, but more caring and nurturing. He found your voice soothing and loved to rub himself against the fullness of your breasts, making your nipples harden to the stimulation, until he came to rest his cheek on top of it, humming in satisfaction. His mother let him do this as a child, when she was still comforting him, and he missed it.

Every night, he would curl against you, or in your lap, and stay here for hours as you gently caressed his pale skin. Unlike the other customers, Aemond was not there for sexual satisfaction. He just wanted comfort.

‘’Daemon sent them to kill me,’’ he said, his naked body shielded by the veils circling the large bed. ‘’It was my head they wanted, not my innocent little nephew’s.’’

Your heart was heavy as the prince mentioned the murder of Jaehaerys — a child. The barbarous act had everyone in tears.

You rubbed his arm gently, the aroma of calming lavender wrapping around you. ‘’But you were with me.’’

‘’I feel sorry for my brother and sweet sister. She is traumatized.’’ Guilt filled his stomach as he remembered the suffering and painful grief in Helaena’s eyes. ‘’I should be grateful they did not find me, but a part of me wishes they had. Unlike my little nephew, I would have been able to defend myself.’’

‘’We cannot change the past, my prince.’’

‘’I know,’’ Aemond whispered, his cold, princely facade completely down in your company. He sighed deeply as your gentle caresses soothed his weary soul. His body relaxed as he buried his face into your covered chest, seeking solace in your warmth and tenderness. ‘’There’s a lot I would change about the past if I could. I…I do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, and I am sorry for it.’’

You stroked his hair gently, the soft, silvery locks running through your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he rested against you.

Aemond's eye closed at your touch, and a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘’They used to tease me, you know? Because I was different. One time, in the dragonpit, they…they said they found me a dragon. It was a pig. And my brother was part of the prank.’’

’'That was cruel of them,'’ you said softly, leaning to kiss his temple. He leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. ‘’They were cruel to you, my prince. You didn't deserve their taunts and mockery.'’

You felt his hand reaching up and palming your breasts through your clothing. Getting the hint of what he wanted, you untied the front of your dress and freed your breasts. Immediately, Aemond’s mouth started to press kisses over them before. His hot tongue swiped over your nipple. You let him do what he desired, knowing this was his way of finding comfort. The warmth of his hand and the wetness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused on his needs.

As Aemond continued his sweet assault on your breasts, you noticed his cock was getting hard against his thigh, but didn’t mention it. Madam Sylvi never touched him there...or kissed him. Only you — when he asked for it.

The music outside the curtains changed, and he shifted, letting go of your breasts to curl up with his head on your lap instead. You continued to rub his shoulder down to his back, then along his thigh and leg.

‘’When I claimed Vhagar, I felt powerful.’’

His pride and confidence had swelled to an almost unmanageable extent when he returned to Driftmark. He was excited to tell Aegon, and his mother about Vhagar. But his cousins and nephews found him first. They got into a fight over the dragon…and Lucerys Velaryon took out his eyes.

As if you read his thoughts, your finger brushed the scar going through his eyebrow. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through.

‘’Was it why you went after Luke that day? Because you wanted him to be afraid of you and your superior dragon?’’

Aemond grew still at the mention of Lucerys, the memory of that fateful day on Storm’s End, the catalyst of the brewing war, still fresh in his mind.

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly. ‘’Yes... In a way, I suppose so.’’

You hummed, brushing your fingertips along his cheekbone softly.

Aemond wished he could take you to the Keep. To his chambers. It would be nice to not have to hide under a cloak at night and risk getting seen by anyone who shouldn’t. He wished you would be there, in his bed, when he would return from small council meetings, training or even just supper, to take care of him and hold him.

But that was impossible. His mother would never allow it.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale@mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13@cece05@laylasbunbunny@gemofthenight@beautyb1ade@mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog@queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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sonolynn · 7 months ago

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Blood and Cheese

request: Aemond x ( Rhaenyra x Criston daughter ) niece were married and having a son. instead kill aegon son b&c kill Aemond son. How Rhaenyra daughter try to save her son from b&c and what people react after find out about Aemond son being kill. I need this fic so bad…

summary | Daemon took Rhaenyra's words literally. "A son for a son" he said. Who knew that it would be your son?

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

tags | mentions of BLOOD, extreme grief, talk of child murdering, knifes, MORE BLOOD, infanticide, DEATH, extreme grief. mentions of murder

w.c | 3.8k

TW!!!!!!!!! | I personally have a very gruesome writing style when it comes to things like this, so if anything relating to infanticide or violence will trigger or bother you please don't read!!

____________________________________________

You loved your son. You named your son Baelon, after your mothers lost brother. Aemond knew how much you love Baelon, and he would be a fool if he said he did not love his son as well.

Aemond tried to pride himself with being stoic and emotionally unavailable. But the minute they put his squirming son's body in his arms he felt his whole world resolve. The boy was the most beautiful thing to him, and he couldn’t believe that half of this being came from him.

Ever since that night, Aemond became softer. When you weren’t breastfeeding, or when you got tired from taking care of the crying infant, Aemond would immediately offer to take the boy. When Bealon would cry in the middle of the night, Aemond would be up almost immediately, rushing to be at the babe's side. It took you almost forty minutes to convince him that it would be better if he slept with you and not in the nursery.

And everything was fine until the night he killed Luke.

Aemond would come back to the Keep late at night, still shaken from what he had involuntarily done. When he got back to his chambers, he saw his wife, his sweet, innocent wife holding his son.

You had a smile on your face, Baelon coo’ing in your arms as he giggled and reached up to play with your braided, black hair. When you looked up, and noticed Aemond, your smile faltered.

Aemond stared at you, and for a second his face was his normal and stoic, but the minute his son, his little Baelon, reached for him with a smile he broke down.

That night he told you everything; He apologized profusely, and for the first time in all of Baelon’s four months of living, he refused to hold him.

“I’ll only hurt him.” Is what Aemond told you. Your heart broke a little when you heard this, and you tried to reassure him but he wouldn’t have any of it.

____________________________________________

“Aemond?” Aemond stopped, looking at you with a soft sigh.

“Darling, what have I told you about sleeping on the couch?” His voice was tired, full of weariness from having to deal with Aegon’s antics. You smiled softly as you sat up, holding out your hands out for him. He sighed as he sat down with you. He immediately cuddled against you, letting out a long, heavy breath as his head come into contact with your chest.

This was how you two spent most of your time now. At night, Aemond would come to you and he would cuddle against you, yearning for that love and affection only you could seemingly give him. You two sat like this for a while, you stroking his head, and him stroking your stomach.

“...I do regret that business with Luke, you know.”

“I know.”

There was more silence. It seemed that between you and Baelon, the only time Aemond’s mind was quiet now was when he was with you, in your embrace, being held by you. Not being treated as a monster, or a ruthless warrior, but rather just a man. Just your husband.

In the distance, you heard the sound of your son’s wails. You sighed heavily, and you looked down at Aemond.

“Perhaps he wishes for his father’s arms.” You spoke softly, watching as Aemond slowly sat up.

“He does not.” He shook his head, leaning against the back of the couch. He avoided your gaze, knowing the somber look you were giving him.

“Are you sure you do not wish to join me?” Aemond sat still, a look on his face that held some sort of thought before he shook his head softly.

“I’ll see him first thing in the morning, my love.” You smiled at the thought, and you held his hand as you walked away. He watched you leave, a sad smile on his face. The wails from Baelon stopped moments later, and Aemond sighed heavily.

Tomorrow, he thought, i’ll see him tomorrow.

The worst part about this sentiment is that Aemond would see his son tomorrow. However, Baelon would be on a pyre.

____________________________________________

The night started off peaceful. You sat in your rocking chair, rocking back and forth with Baelon in your arms. You smiled to yourself, holding the-now-sleeping babe in your arms. You hadn’t even registered the two men behind you.

When one of them accidently knocked something over, you immediately jumped.

“Aemond?” You whispered, quickly turning around. However, you were met with the face of two, unruly men you didn’t recognize. You saw the bag they held, along with the rat traps. “Who-Who are you?” You tried to stay strong, but you knew your voice gave away your fear.

One of the men, the taller, bigger one looked you up and down. He turned to the other man and spoke softly. “Who is she?”

“This…Is the one eyed prince’s wife.” Your breath hitched as the shorter man spoke. They both looked reasonably dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew something was wrong.

“There are no rats in here.” The two men started to walk towards you, murmuring something about your husband underneath their breath. You had half a mind to turn and run, but they seemed to have the same idea.

The shorter man came to you, and put a knife to your throat. You gasped, and clutched Baelon closer to you. The boy whined softly at the pressure.

“Give us the boy, and we won’t hurt you.” The taller man spoke. You looked at him and held Baelon tighter.

“You have no business with my son-”

“Give us the boy!” The taller men yelled. You flinched, and at the sudden noise, Baelon started to cry. You looked between the men, and you felt tears in your eyes as the anxiety started to build up in your chest.

“I-I have uhm..I have many valuable items. I have gold! I have lots of gold that I have no need for-”

The taller man kicked the edge of Baelon’s crib and you held back a scream. The taller men started to speak to the shorter man, but the words they spoke didn’t process fully in your brain. All you saw was an open door.

“AEM-” You started to scream your husband's name, but the man with the knife to your throat pushed the knife further and grabbed your hair roughly. You cried, and Baelon wailed in your arms. The taller man put his hand on Baelon’s head and tried to pry him from you grip.

“NO!” You cried out, trying to pull him back, but it didn’t work. With a quick snap your boy was pried from you. The shorter man threw you back, causing you to hit your head against the chair you were previously rocking in.

Your head was fuzzy, and all you heard was the wails of your son, painful wails that slowly died down. When you sat up, you saw the men putting the tiny head of your son in a bag. Your whole world stopped, and just as the men escaped down the hall, you screamed.

Your chest ached, and your throat burned. You stare down at the body, slowly crawling to it as you shake your head and mutter small, inconsistent prayers to yourself. You reached out a hand, placing it on the body’s belly, rubbing it softly as if that would relieve some of the pain that was given to your innocent baby boy.

You choked on your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death in that moment. Screams erupted from your throat; Horrid, painful screams followed by sobs. This pain, this all consuming immeasurable pain you wished on no one. The feeling of your own blood on your hands as you stared at the decapitated body was sickening, but you couldn’t look away.

How could something so small hold so much blood? You thought to yourself, watching as the blood spilled from the clumsy cut.

Alicent was the first to arrive, followed by Aemond soon after. Alicent stared at the scene in front of her, and while she resented you (seeing you as a constant reminder of Rhaenyra’s blatant lie to her), the pain she felt for you was disgusting. She backed out of the room slowly and placed a hand on her stomach to ground herself.

Aemond couldn’t step into the room. He just stared down at you, his son's body. The thought that this headless, infants body was his own son’s, his baby boy’s-

He couldn’t move. The pain for him was nothing short of paralyzing. But what broke him the most was you.

You sobbed, violently sobbed as you placed your hands in your son's blood and tried to pull it back. As if that would fix everything. Aemond felt nauseous, seeing you so desperately cling to the idea that you could fix this. Once the realization started to settle that this was not helping, your body seemed to shut down. You laid down, holding your hands on your son's body as you sobbed.

No words were exchanged, not knowing what to say. Aemond leaned against the door frame, mind numb as he slowly slid down the frame. He stared at nothing, his mind replaying all the times he held the boy, watched him smile.

____________________________________________

Aemond stood next to you the following day, watching as your baby boy's body was burned on a pillar. He was numb, his face pale and full of so much grief that it sobered anyone up. You were a mess. Tears and incoherent sobs escaped your throat, and you clung to Aemond. Aemond stayed still, gently holding you as if any small movement would cause the last shred of resolve to leave your body.

As the fire burned, you buried your face into Aemond’s chest, refusing to watch. Aemond let you, holding your head softly.

But Aemond stared. He watched as the wrapped body was consumed by the flames. He forced himself to watch as the flames consumed his son, his own retribution for not being there, for not helping you, for not holding his son one last time.

As he watched the ashes of the pyre falter, Aemond made a promise to himself.

He would kill Daemon Targaryen with his own hands.

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a/n: guys im sorry.

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