#paid tribute in this way

[emiplayzmc]

Alr started playing Roblox a little more frequently SPECIFICALLY for Doors, and

Ralsei Deltarune and Kinito KinitoPet in Doors REAL

[the-patchwork-girl-of-oz]

The rainbow and pink, white, and orange hearts symbolize their friendship.:3

[eddie-rifff]

im getting my chris squire tribute tattoo in september :)

[thedeadthree]

VALAENYA (asoiaf) / ILLYRIA (hotd)

ELAENAERA (hotd) / KAROLINA (btaj/john wick/c*od)

YELENA (fo3) / FAYE (resident evil)

TAGGED BY the dears @marivenah, @dihardys, @shellibisshe and @florbelles to make the girls with this beloved meiker! ty so much! <3

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @denerims, @queennymeria, @chuckhansen, @jackiesarch, @aartyom, @kingsroad, @arklay, @stormveils, @roofgeese, @leviiackrman, @malefiicarum, @loriane-elmuerto, @unholymilf, @belorage, @aceghosts and you!

[mynqzo]

reposting this information to it's own post because asker was a racist.

What's going on right now in the Republic of Georgia / Sakartvelo? A new legislation just passed that official bans - human rights essentially, gay-marriage, gender-firming care and surgery, any 'promotion' of queer identity. Soon after this legislation passed, trans model Kesaria Abramidze was murdered as a direct consequence of this.

Why is this super extra bad? Besides the several many lives at stake, the safety of queer families and the lethality of hate crimes, Georgia's wish to enter the EU is falling to a complete simmer due to this, soon to be extinguished completely. Here is an article about the international reaction to this legislation:

What can you do to help? The biggest thing we currently rely on is international push back especially from the EU members and the possible overturn of this in the upcoming election. It does not help that this law is implemented due to greedy fucks and Russian puppets in Georgia who benefit from this. source:

You might hear many refer to this as 'Russian law' which is due to the fact that Georgia, under this puppet-leadership mimics Russian laws like the 'Foreign Agents Law' that was put into work only a few months prior the law assumes 'only receiving foreign funds makes an organization a foreign agent.' and I don't think I have to explain how horrendous that is.

We also rely on our president to veto the legislation before it goes into 'full effect' (though the consequences and effect have already begun) but even with this the political party which instated this legislation argue to over-ride her veto in parliament. source:

The most important thing right now is vocal pushback, and public support of the queer community. with what happened to Kesaria (may she rest in peace) a lot of trans people are fearing for their lives, and queer families no longer can remain in their own country if they want to continue to be themselves in any way.

Spread love, a lot of it like as much as you can offer to queer Georgians everywhere.

[getmybuzzup]

Rakim & LL Cool J Pay Tribute To Marley Marl With 'Paid In Full' & 'Around The Way Girl' - LL Cool J goes hard https://wp.me/p1PuJR-5Edf Please Reblog!

[sunderwight]

Thinking about SV demon culture as one struggling under the weight of imperialism, a violent ruling class with a might-makes-right mindset, and a lot of warfare.

I really don't like fics that imply that Luo Binghe's conquest of the demon realms just automatically improved living conditions there. I think both versions believed that they could conquer things, establish a new regime, and fix a lot of political issues in the process, I just don't think that would actually be the result of a violent takeover on the part of a cultural outsider with a patchy understanding of the actual multitude of demon cultures involved, whose only asset was an extreme capacity for physical violence and resilience against death.

Like, no wonder Bingge was always putting down uprisings and "rivals" for power -- a lot of his empire was probably actually being run by the demon wives or families of the demon wives he favored most, like Sha Hualing, or by preferred subordinates like Mobei Jun, who very probably pursued their own interests just as doggedly as they had prior to his rule. Only, this time they'd have been doing so with the added leverage of Luo Binghe's violence answering anyone who "rebelled" against "his" authority.

Demons in SV have myriad subtypes and subcultures. It seems really likely that a lot of them have been persecuted by others, that there are demon communities who have been subjugated, muscled out of ancestral homes, enslaved, wiped out, etc. This would probably even explain some "invasions" by demons into the human realm -- I'd imagine numerous cases across history of refugees being taken for (or described as) marauders by cultivation sects, or human communities unprepared or unwilling to deal fairly with visibly inhuman "monsters" and answering their approach with violence, or even displaced demons who did in fact become bandits and such in the fallout of various conflicts causing problems.

But there also would probably have been demons that succeeded in making their way in the human realm, and disguising what they were well enough that the sects never even knew. After all, most of the methods for alerting the sects to the presence of demons involve demons doing something violent (like the Skinner demon) or people seeing demons and going "ahhh!" about it. A demon or a family of demons uninterested in serial killing and only looking to get by and avoid the violence would likely not attract that kind of attention, just so long as they could pass as human too.

I do wonder if the reverse has ever happened as well. Human wars driving humans to seek refuge in the demon realms. It would conversely seem a lot more dangerous (demons are physically tougher than humans, and the demon realms are notoriously harsh), but in some cases it was probably like, well, life is hell already, at least the things trying to kill us in the demon realm are straightforward about it?

There are probably way more half-demons out there than just Luo Binghe, and even more demons with human ancestry or humans with demon ancestry. I wouldn't be surprised if demon ancestry actually played a roll in some humans being cultivation prodigies compared to others -- demons seem to have a natural physical power that most humans don't, and while their cultivation uses different energy, it would make sense of some aspects of things like a physical inclination to store, accrue, or manipulate energy in general could benefit even predominately human descendants of mixed blood.

But anyway, back to politics.

Tianlang Jun didn't seem to be a terribly proactive ruler either. Which on the one hand can be a good thing (he wasn't a tyrant, wasn't interested in waging wars or conquering others, didn't much care to throw his weight around), but someone was actually ruling in his absence. Conflicts were still happening, and being resolved. Tributes or taxes were still being paid to him, for him to live any kind of lavish lifestyle, which means they were being collected, rates were being determined, enforced, etc, which does beg the question of who was doing it. Not Zhuzhi Lang, certainly.

In Bingmei's time, the person actually running things is Shang Qinghua, which means also Mobei Jun is actually running things to some extent too. Shen Qingqiu loves demonic beasts but doesn't seem like he could care less about politics, and Luo Binghe only got this job in the first place because he was trying to impress him, and the post-canon extras would seem to indicate that they check out of the process as often as possible.

Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua's rule probably makes things pretty hard for the southern demons who are traditionally loyal to the Heavenly Demons. I mean, apart from not being able to beat Luo Binghe in a fight, self-serving ambition would definitely be a motive for Mobei Jun to throw his lot in with him as soon as possible, right? "Give" the emperor your palace, your service, your resources, etc, and the emperor basically becomes Mobei's own tool to reinforce his sovereignty. In PIDW he even uses him to do that in a more immediate sense by bringing him to the fight with his uncle. In SV he decides Shang Qinghua is more suitable, which, symbolically, is even true. The cost of wielding Luo Binghe's authority is having to submit to it, but Shang Qinghua has elevated Mobei Jun even without that.

No wonder the southern demons couldn't get on Tianlang Jun's side fast enough when he reappeared. Given both Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua's bias, the North has probably been running rampant with their own interests while the South gets hamstrung and dealt crumbs by comparison. Sha Hualing's clearly been trying to get on Luo Binghe's good side with minimal success ever since he got out of the Abyss. Unlike in PIDW, where she's a major player, here she's just an underling desperately playing catch-up and accidentally offending him all the time.

I wonder how that's impacting the complex arrangement of political alliances, cultures, and conflicts among the various factions in the demon realm. It'd probably be like if the remote and somewhat isolated North and Winterfell in ASOIAF/Game of Thrones suddenly became the new capital of the empire, and White Harbor became the main trade hub, while all the southern lords struggled to even get a foot in the door with the new king and kept pissing him off all the time. And every time they try to break free or rebel or kill him, it doesn't work and they get personally murdered by him. Meanwhile the northern lords are making off like bandits, with the current Lord Stark gay married to some inhuman warlock who does all his paperwork and somehow knows all your embarrassing secrets.

...That comparison got away from me. But I mean, it's kind of fascinating? A huge mess and likely miserable for a lot of demons, but still. The implications...

[pawnshopbleus]

The Songbird

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Summary - Lucy Gray Baird was the talk of this year's Hunger Games. She had the beauty and the voice to charm her way through the games, but what happens when rumors spark up around the Capitol that her mentor and your boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow, have shared a kiss?

Warnings - Mild angst, Speculations of cheating, Smut (Coriolanus Snow eats you out), Bad communication, it gets sort of better at the ends so just trust me, Very mild Lucy Grey slander (Rachel Zegler they could never make me hate you.), let’s pretend that Snow has the capacity to love, Not beta read.

Being a Plinth meant two things: people hated you because you paid your way to the top, and people loved you because you had enough money to do it. Getting used to life in the capital was hard, but it got easier when you had a boyfriend who cared for you. Your brother, Sejanus, disapproved of his best friend dating his twin sister, but the two of you could care less. 

You met Coriolanus at the Academy. You were charmed by his white hair and the way he carried himself. He also wasn’t as stuck up and snobby as your other classmates. He was easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes. He must have noticed the way you were entranced by him when he asked you out. After many dates and your father's approval, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Now, you were sitting in the lunch room, picking at the sandwich that was in front of you. It was no secret that Coriolanus’s tribute was the favorite of the capitol. She was beautiful and swept everyone off of their feet with that sweet voice of hers. Your tribute on the other hand was nothing more than a throwaway tribute from District Nine. To be frank, he was short and skinny. There was nothing much you could do for him. Maybe he could be good at hiding, but he wouldn’t last long in the arena. 

“Are you going to eat?” Coriolanus asked as he eyed your sandwich. “You need to eat, dove.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grumbled as you took a sip of your water. 

“Can I have it then?”

You nod your head and hand him the sandwich. You watched as he put it in a napkin and placed it in his coat pocket. 

You tilted your head in confusion. Was he saving that for later? “Coryo, if you, Grandma'am, and Tigris need something to eat, you can come over. You know my home is always open to you and your family.” 

He smirked and shook his head. “No, I’m saving it for Lucy Gray.” 

“Oh.” That was all you could say. Of course, he was saving that for his Lucy Gray. Him feeding his tribute would fuel the rumors that Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray Baird were developing a budding relationship. People were already invested in them after his stunt at the Capitol Zoo. 

You grabbed your tray from the table and left without saying another word. You couldn’t find it in you to confront him about what people were saying. Maybe you were being a bad girlfriend, but your jealousy got the best of you.    As the sun set and the moon rose, you lie in your room, hoping that Lucy Gray wouldn’t accept the sandwich. You wanted her to throw it back at him, scaring him so much that he would never visit her again. But this isn’t about what you want. This is about Coriolanus and his mission to get his tribute to win. 

The next morning, you couldn’t eat. You were physically and mentally sick with jealousy. You were meant to meet with your tribute to discuss a game strategy. In your peripheral, you could see Coriolanus with Lucy Gray. He was so alert when he talked with her. He once talked to you like that, but after the first time he saw Lucy Gray on the screen, he’s become distant. He was always talking about her, visiting her, thinking about her. Part of you wanted her to die in the arena, but your wishes fell upon deaf ears. 

For the first time, you were faced to face with your tribute. He was even skinnier in person. Your heart burned for him. You were so lucky that your parents got you out of the District when they could or else that could have been you on the other side of the table. 

“Okay, Finn, I’m going to be honest, you aren’t the person people root for, but I can make sure that you live as long as possible.” What you said was harsh, but true. You could get your father and his friends to sponsor him. With enough sponsors, he could get food, water, and medicine. That’s as good as it’s going to get. 

“We all know that Lucy Grey’s going to win. Her mentor has been visiting her every night. He brought her half of a sandwich last night. I saw them by the gates. I could see them talking. They were close, real close. I could have sworn I saw them kiss, but-” The rest of Finn’s sentence was drowned out by the sound of static ringing through your ears. 

— — — — 

Your knuckles rapped against the door of the Snow residence. It was later in the day, your tribute was thankful that you somewhat believed in him, but both of you knew that he wasn’t going to make it out alive. If anyone killed the Capitols songbird they would surely live a life of shame. 

Tigris opened the door and smiled when she saw you standing there, but her smile faded as she saw the tears streaming down your face. She opened her arms and trapped you in them, letting your tears stain her dress. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her voice was soft and almost whisper quiet. She was a gentle soul and you trusted her with your darkest secrets. 

“My tribute said that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray kissed,” you said through tears. 

Tigris gasped and looked at you in the eyes, searching for something to say. “I’m-I don’t know what to say. That doesn’t sound like Coryo. He loves you too much to do that.” 

“Really? Lately Lucy Grey is all he can talk about. It’s like she’s his girlfriend and not me.”  “Because he wants to win the prize money. We need to pay rent and we don’t have enough.” Tigris said as she wiped away your tears. 

“It doesn’t help that the capitol likes them together. He might as well date her instead of me. I mean, she’s pretty and she can sing like none other. I just-” You were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. In less than twenty seconds Coriolanus was at your side. 

His hands find their place on your shoulders as he pulls you away from Tigris’s grasp. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong, dove? Did someone hurt you?” 

You wipe your nose with your sleeve. Your mother would kill you if she found out you did something so unclassy in front of a man, but right now you could care less about class. Your eyes looked around everywhere, trying not to make eye contact with his. You knew that you would cry again if you looked into his eyes. The eyes that got you hooked on him in the first place. The eyes that Lucy Grey saw flutter close before they kissed. 

Your shoulders wiggled out of his grasp. His hands fell to his sides and you could have sworn you saw his hands ball up in fists, stopping themselves from coming in contact with your soft skin. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “My tribute, Finn. He said that you and Lucy Gray kissed last night at the zoo.” It came out more as a whisper. You hated how pathetic you sounded right at that moment. 

You could see Coriolanus search for the memories of what happened last night. He then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We didn’t kiss,” he began, “but I can see why the other tributes would think that. We were close, but it was only because I wanted to tell her more game strategies and I didn’t want the other tributes to hear.” 

You felt stupid. You felt really stupid to assume that your boyfriend of two years would cheat on you. “But I-I heard people in the shop the other day say that they wanted you and Lucy Gray to get together. They said that the two of you had so much chemistry.”

“First of all, that’s illegal, and second of all, I love you. And only you.” His hand tilted your chin up and wiped the tears that were still falling on your face. Tigris had retired to her room a long time ago. 

Coriolanus leads you to his room. The window that overlooked the Capitol was open, letting in the cold. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, inches away from your lips. 

“Yes,” was the only thing you managed to say before he kissed you. The kiss started off soft and slow, but as his hands found their home on your waist, the kiss got harder. Your lips found a good rhythm as they got familiar with one another. His tongue skittered across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter. Your tongues danced with one another before Coriolanus broke the kiss. 

His lips pressed light kisses along your neck. He nipped at your skin causing you to jump a bit. He smiled into your skin and laid you down on his bed. His hand slid down to the bottom of your dress. You had changed after you got home from the visit with your tribute. You wanted to get that stupid uniform off before it suffocated you. 

“Do you want this?” he asked as his fingers inched the bottom of your dress up inch by inch until the only thing that was left covering your bottom half was your underwear. They were already soaked through. He began placing soft kisses on the skin of your things, but he wouldn’t go any further until he got your permission. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. After all, this was supposed to be about you. 

You nodded your head and Snow nipped your inner thigh. “Words, dove.” 

“Yes, Coryo.” 

“Good girl.” He breathed before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear. He slowly took them off of you, dragging this on as long as he could before you went mad. Your chest rose and fell as you focused on the man in between your legs. 

Right now, the games were the least of your worries. The people who started the rumors of Coriolanus and Lucy Grey could go to hell for all you cared. You finally had the truth. Coriolanus loved you, and no District Twelve songbird could change that. 

Coriolanus nuzzles his nose against your clit as his tongue prods against your entrance. Your hand clamped over your mouth as you tried your best to muffle your moans. You would just die if Grandma'am or Tigris heard what their beloved Coriolanus was doing to you. 

Seconds later, his mouth hungrily sucked on your clit. Your eyes went wide and you let out a silent moan. Overwhelmed with pleasure, your thighs clamp around his head, but instead of pushing them back, he keeps them there. He looks up at you and his beautiful blue eyes flutter close, enjoying the way you taste. 

His fingers trace along your wet hole, gathering your slick. First, he inserts his index finger and then his middle one. His fingers are long and skinny, but they feel oh so fucking good. His fingers fuck in and out of you, stroking along your G-spot. 

You can’t hold on much longer. He can tell by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers. He hungrily laps at your clit, drawing small and tight circles with his tongue. Coriolanus loves this part. The part when your back arches off his bed, when your pussy spasms around him, and when your thighs shake as you let out the prettiest moan. Chills run down your body as you shiver with pleasure. You come off your high as he takes his fingers out of you. They’re soaked with your release and he grins down at them. He licks his fingers clean of your slick and kisses the skin right above your hips. 

“That better?” he asked, lying next to you on the bed. 

You nod your head. You weren’t able to form words right at the moment.

“I’m sorry for making you believe that I would ever cheat on you. I really do love you, my dove.” 

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. You let oxygen fill your lungs before you exhale and turn it into carbon dioxide. “Coryo, I’m sorry for being jealous. I know how much this annual Hunger Games means to you. You know that my father would be more than happy to pay your rent. He knows how much you mean to me.” 

Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s not what this is about. Dove, I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you for your father.” 

You got up and straddled his lap, your bare pussy was just inches away from his hard cock. Coriolanus gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your hands wipe away some hair from his face. “Then what is this about? Please, let me know. I want to help.” 

He hides his face in the crook of your neck. “I want to show the Dean that I can win. I want to show him that Snow lands on top,” Coriolanus mumbles against your skin. 

“Figuratively and literally,” you whisper. 

Coriolanus spent the rest of the night showing you exactly what he meant by ‘Snow lands on top.’

[fanaticsnail]

Can you write something romantic for yandere Mihawk? Like a drabble or headcannons?

🐈‍⬛

I don't think I've ever written yandere before, but I wanted to give it a go. I hope this is what you were looking for! 🖤🐌

Obsession

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,200+

Synopsis: Many believe Mihawk keeps the knowledge of his spouse a secret because he is a private man. Truth of it is, he is simply obsessed with you and doesn't believe any other pair of eyes is worthy of meeting their gaze with your majesty.

Themes: yandere!Mihawk x gn!reader, possessive attitude, obsession, infatuation, pining, longing, lusting, love, romance, kissing, yandere trope.

Notes: I will do anything to write a man in love. I love how period-drama romance looks on Mihawk, and I couldn't not write him with a little bit of a possessive flavour. I made the banner with OPLA's Mihawk wanted poster.

Tag list: @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @jintaka-hane @daydreamer-in-training @carrotsunshine @indydonuts @i-am-vita @sordidmusings

While many were aware that Dracule Mihawk was married, they simply presumed he was a very private man. He enjoyed keeping to himself, and allowing himself the courtesy of remaining in solitude with his spouse while tending to his title as World's Greatest Swordsman.

In some aspects, he did. He did enjoy keeping to himself and remaining in solitude while he lived in the high keep of his castle, surrounded by swirled mountains and his well-tended gardens. But at the crux of his entire life, the center of his world and the prized diamond in his vast treasury, was you.

You ruled his heart, controlled his chin and the direction his gaze fell with a simple whisper of a word or the scent of your perfume. He was a man consumed, humbled by his infatuation to the point where his love fell into captivated, depraved fixation.

To put it simply, Dracule Mihawk wanted to keep you all to himself. He was a man consumed by his bewitchment and infatuation with the owner of his heart.

He was never one for sharing, never joining a crew or forming a bond other than rivalry with another person. As soon as he met you, everything changed for him. His heart soared, his breath was stolen from his lungs, and his eyes never strayed from honing in on your beauty.

He wasn't sure what it was you did or didn't do that had him fall to his knees and begin to worship at your altar. All he knew was he wanted you so desperately, craved to be by your side always, and wanted to shy you away from the wandering eyes of all whom he deemed unworthy to have their gaze fall upon your majesty.

When your courtship first commenced, he attempted to keep his tribute humble and small. But as your eyes lit up at the first offer of a simple rose he carved from his favored floral shrubbery, he knew he wanted to spoil you with lavish luxury. Each gift was catered to your interests and tastes, items you never thought he paid enough mind to your conversation while promenading, hand interlaced within the crook of his elbow.

He paid mind to it all. The way your voice changed when speaking on your passions, the questions you asked him about his life before working for the World Government, how you paused in the garden and listened to the sweet chirps of birds begin courting their mates. He hung on your every word, movement and motion.

For someone so stoic and reserved, the way his heart melted for you the moment your eyes met was as if his cold vessel was chaperoned into the bright light of a warm sunset. He couldn't get enough, and when he was certain you returned his love, he refused any exchange of dowry for your hand.

He wanted you to be his just as much as he desired to be yours. That was more than enough for him, and he would never leave you for wanting or without for all the days of your life.

The first time he was summoned to perform his duty as a warlord for the World Government after your marriage, he was overcome with rage at the thought of leaving your side. He almost took the head of the carrier bird with the summons for his assignment, but withheld his violent act at the sight of you offering the bird your Berry, and gifting them your palm filled with sunflower seeds.

As soon as the bird fled, he lifted your palm within his own, brushed the darkened casings of the remains from the seeds' shells, and rose the flesh to his lips to kiss away the indents of pecks the bird left in raised welts on your skin. Cupping his bearded chin, you rose his amber eyes to meet with yours.

“I will return to you,” his voice mourned for you above the softest whisper, “I will always return to you.” Leaning his cheek and chin into your palm, he closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in deep yearning.

“You are always so good to me,” you responded in a tone that mirrored his own, prompting his eyes to snap open and gaze deeply into your own. “I trust you to find your way home once you conclude this contract.” Ushering his face closer to you, you whisper against his lips before fully making contact, “I will be right where you left me, waiting for you to return.”

Mihawk's eyes darkened, his pupils blown black and eclipsing his honey-hue with the intensity of his possessive gaze. He knew he was many things to you, and good was far from a sentiment he held for himself. His desire to keep you secret was not to keep you safely tucked away from those who wished to do him harm, but because he was truly a selfish man.

As your lips closed in around his own, he was ready to commence his enthusiastic consumption of all that you had to offer him. Each kiss he pressed into you felt both like the first time he had ever felt such passion, and the last time he was ever to claim such a prize.

Hands clawing at your hips, he drew you flush with his own and angled his chin to deepen the oscillation. Tongue darting out to taste yours like a delicacy he was never again to roll over his palate, the muscle ground against your lips and lewdly consuming your kiss with lusting desire.

Both pulling away from one another, he rested his forehead against yours and took a moment to catch his breath. Eyes closed and brow lowered, he shared breaths with you and savored every moment you shared with one another.

“I crave the day we meet again, my precious consort,” he pressed his lips to your forehead, “My guiding light to point me home,” his lips dart down to claim your cheek beneath it, “The crown jewel in my treasury, and reigning monarch of my very soul.” He pressed a chaste and longing kiss once more against your lips before pulling away.

“Always so charming, my love,” you smile up at him, removing your hands from his face and smoothing over his leather shoulder pads of his outer great-cloak. “I will be right here ready to receive you, as I always am.”

“My beloved,” he whispered, his eyes falling half-lidded and dark eyelashes fluttering from your lengthy confession.

“My dear,” you breathed his whisper within your chest and replaced it with your own. You pressed your lips to his cheek, an offer of your blessing to embark on the next chapter of his journey.

Dracule Mihawk was a man consumed with the love he had for his counterpart. He rued each day to depart from your side, and would have no quarrel with offering his opinion as such to the official whom summoned him.

Truthfully, he was a man infatuated by his spouse that it bordered on domination by his strongest emotions, but choosing to keep them beneath the surface to not tighten you with his intensity. It was his addiction, his fix in a world full of darkness and torment.

He was your loyal zealot, knight and fierce protector, and you...

You were his obsession.

[tiktaalic]

catching fire dash simulator

finnicksgirl Follow

my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on

caps4finnick Follow

cinnagirl3000 Follow

anybody heard from cinna lately?

plutarcheology Follow

Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282

revolutionarykatniss

As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?

caesarflickerwoman Follow

anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..

czrflckmn

Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him

caesarflickerwoman

Well you see I’m gay and a man now

theeclove Follow

already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog

siblingvictors

DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER

czrflkmn Follow

everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......

johannadykeson Follow

tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?

#my girl going to get slorn :/

katnissgirlsmakedo

She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core

#lovecore #heartcore #truelove

lucygraydotcom Follow

Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog

finnickforever Follow

I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.

divorceekatniss Follow

hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay

disabledmags Follow

Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3

peetaspride

Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.

disabledmags

As if killing children has ever stopped them before?

#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?

peetaspride

If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.

peetasbabymama Follow

URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama

cupcakeeverlark

this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?

peetasbabymama

ok

district420

isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol

tendinghiswounds

OOMF IS 12???????????

everlarklovechild

the age is the problem here?

marriedeverlark Follow

Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️

beeteemp3 Follow

New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁

3ffietrinket

Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?

peenick Follow

getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck

3v3rlark Follow

ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech

rues-song

you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams

senecacraneofficial Follow

rip seneca you were so babygirl </3

plutarchbaby69

so now you think we can’t fuck old men?

#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Madhubala (Mughal-e-Azam, Barsaat Ki Raat, Mr. & Mrs. '55)—The Venus of India; heart-throb of all who saw her; responsible for the sexual awakening of every single desi lesbian I know (including me!) And my god, she is breathtakingly beautiful. Look at the subtle grace with which she moves, and that smile - the kind of radiant smile that can make you laugh with sheer delight, or cry because of its hidden pain. Those wild curls! That Cupid's bow! The way she tilts back her head and smiles at you with mischief dancing in her eyes! She has a way of looking at the camera that makes you feel she's sharing a private joke just with you; it's something about that quizzical twist of the lips and eyebrows. As an actress, she is inimitable; she seems to effortlessly inhabit roles ranging from a heart-broken courtesan to a laughter-loving socialite. Fun fact : she's had quite the fan following in Greece! Stelios Kazantidis even wrote a song as a tribute to her.

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Madhubala:

An icon of Bollywood, who was well known for her beauty and has continued to inspire performances and songs into the 21st century. She was at times described as "the number one beauty of the Indian screen" and "the biggest star in the world".

SHE IS EVERYTHING AHHH. JUST LOOK AT HER SMILE-

She's been nicknamed the Marilyn Monroe of India and was one of the highest paid actresses in the Hindi film industry (the term Bollywood did not exist yet) during the 1950s. Also an extremely talented dancer and singer

SHE'S JUST SO STUNNING, like seeing her eyes IMMEDIATELY CAPTIVATES YOU, THE DANCING, THE BEAUTY!!!!!!!!! She worked in Bollywood for over 20 years and passed away at a sad early age of 36, BUT THE IMPACT SHE HAD WAS UNMATCHED!!!!!

That sassy sideways glance she does always has me WEAK AT THE KNEES. And when she's making silly faces at the camera to mimic someone ahhhh my gay little heart <3

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

ion words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

[dalekofchaos]

Ways Legend Of Korra could've paid tribute to Suki instead of acting like she never existed

Suki is the cop, not Toph. Suki would have formed the Republic City Police, in this case. The Republic City Kyoshi Guard. Suki enforcing the rules and law makes way more sense than Toph. Lin would be Sokka and Suki’s daughter and would have a brother named Hakoda in honor of Sokka’s father and both would be in charge of the police after Suki’s retirement. Lin always wears the Kyoshi Warrior make up to honor her mother and Hakoda inherits his father’s boomerang and cunning mind. Toph “fuck the rules” Beifong would never in a million lifetimes EVER be a cop. I find it hard to believe Toph, the rebel who hates rules would become the very institution she despised, if anything Toph would be the Founder of Pro-Bending or a nomad Earthbending/Metalbending master and a hermit. Suyin would be her daughter and The Duke or Teo would be the father.

Suki leads a new generation of Kyoshi Warriors that helps train Korra non-bending techniques to counter the Equalists Chi-Blocking techniques.

Just giving Suki a statue in Republic City. Literally anywhere.

One little mention to her existence. Bumi mentioning he was trained by uncle Sokka and aunt Suki would've been enough.

In The Red Lotus Society's attempt to steal Korra, Sokka and Suki died protecting the Avatar

I came up with 5 near perfect scenarios that could've paid tribute to Suki. All Bryke did was act like she never existed or didn't matter. Fuck you, Suki deserved better.

[flowerandblood]

Object of Desire (Epilogue)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: sex content, breastfeeding kink, smut, angst, domination, swearing, mention of postpartum depression ]

[ description: After a difficult childbirth and finding out what kind of man her late husband was, Aemond finally finds the strength to truly understand his wife. Their life becomes peaceful and successful until Aegon is seriously injured in battle and he is proclaimed Prince Regent. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. ]

Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 2 − Object of Despair Part 3 − Object of Delight

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

For as long as he could remember, the image of himself with Aegon the Conqueror's crown placed on his head had flashed through his mind. He had never thought of depriving his elder brother of the throne, but they both knew that he was better suited to the role.

However, now, as his King lay in his chamber, with burns that caused him so much pain that they made it impossible for him to move, let alone rule the kingdom, when he was proclaimed Prince Regent, the weight of the steel pressing down on his forehead and temples seemed to overwhelm him.

His wife stood beside him, seated on the Iron Throne − she was showing her allegiance to him by wearing on her neck and fingers the sapphire jewels, necklaces and rings he had given her, her gown as usual in the colours of her lineage, blue.

He knew that she did not desire rich, shiny gifts, and his presents were not intended to satisfy her vanity − never able to express his feelings and thoughts aloud, he preferred to show his respect and affection towards her in this way, and she accepted it with calmness and gratitude.

She paid tribute to him as the last person to stand in front of his throne − she bowed and wanted to kneel, but he stopped her with a gesture of his hand, ordering her to stand up.

He did not stop her when she approached him, when her hand grasped his, when she lifted it to her lips and kissed it reverently, closing her eyes.

He swallowed loudly, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb, feeling like just grabbing her around the waist and placing her on his lap, the way he would if they were alone in his chamber.

She moved away from him, looking at him with peace − a certainty, a pride that made him feel a warm contentment, something in her violet eyes that always reassured him.

She was his ally.

Not his grandfather's, his mother's, or his brother's.

His.

The mother of his heir.

His wife.

After the ceremony, a council was gathered, led by him, to determine what to do about the situation in Harrenhal, besieged for some time by Daemon. He did not allow his wife to leave the chamber, pointing with his hand to the seat on his right hand that would normally be occupied by his mother. His sire accepted this with humility, allowing his wife to take the seat next to him, herself sitting down next to Ser Criston.

Silence fell.

"How long do we have to tolerate Daemon flying around the kingdom threatening to take the crown from my brother? He laughs in our faces, occupying a stronghold so close to the Eyrie." He said coolly, his voice deep and defiant, certain. He heard his wife draw in a deep breath upon hearing the name of her ancestral fortress, lowering her gaze to her fingers.

His grandfather grunted loudly, twisting in his seat with a quiet creak of wood, looking at the faces of those gathered with a raised eyebrow.

"In my opinion, Prince Daemon wants to provoke you, Your Grace. It is obvious that his target is King's Landing. In my opinion, Harrenhal is a small price to pay to keep the capital, let him hold this fortress if he so desires."

"Harrenhal is the bridge between the North and the South. Daemon will burn Lord Arryn's army if he chooses to come to our call." He replied impatiently, Criston Cole grunted loudly, eager to make his point.

"There is only one King. Prince Daemon must be reminded of that." He said coldly, looking at him intensely, ready to rally their entire army at one sign of his. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his wife, who was looking at him with a gaze he knew well.

As always, she was letting him decide if he wanted to hear what she had to say.

He nodded at her, allowing her to speak.

"You are the rider of the greatest dragon in the kingdom, my king. You must remain in King's Landing. The Red Keep, unlike the Eyrie, can be conquered. Prince Daemon is just waiting for this. I'm certain that when he hears that you are heading in his direction with his army he will join his wife and they will march here together. Blockade of my uncle's army will still be a lesser loss." She said calmly, looking at her hands, his grandfather nodded, his face expressing surprise and some kind of admiration.

"Your wife speaks with great wisdom, Your Grace, and I agree with her completely." He said, and he looked away, hitting the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, thinking intensely about what she had said.

What if he does indeed move on Harrenhal, and finds only an empty fortress with children, old men and women?

What if Daemon humiliates him, tricks him like a little child hoping he'll swallow his bait, and attacks the Red Keep along with his half-sister knowing he won't make it back in time?

"Forgive me, my Lady, however, idleness is the domain of women, not men." Criston Cole hissed, but fell silent, swallowing hard, his lips pressed together as he met his warning gaze.

"You mistake idleness for wisdom and caution, my Lord. Like many men before you." His wife replied, and he clenched his fingers on the base of his nose and closed his eyes, sighing impatiently.

"Enough." He ordered, a tense silence fell around him, his wife looked away − he could see the vein pulsing fast on her slender, long neck, her cheeks red, betraying her annoyance.

"Mother." He turned to her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, as he always did, reckoning with her opinion. He saw her swallow hard, picking at the cuticles around her fingernails in a nervous gesture, her big brown eyes filled with fear, uncertainty and dread.

"I think it's a trap, Aemond. Daemon is clever, he lives to mock others. He's always been this way."

He sighed quietly, feeling that despite his deep desire to lead his army to victory, there was much right in the doubts of his wife, grandfather and mother − when his anger and desire to prove himself began to give way to common sense he recognised that indeed if he left the Red Keep, his half-sister would take the opportunity.

"Let our spies continue to watch him and report his doings to us. We should think about luring him out of there somehow. Is there any news from the Iron Islands?" He asked, Lord Lannister nodded and grunted loudly.

"Yes. They agree to a set sum. They will stand against the Velaryon fleet at our call. However, they demand that their independence from the crown be upheld." He said quickly, nervously, adding the last sentence as if on the fly, clearly afraid of his reaction. He sighed heavily and merely nodded.

Their discussion continued for a few more hours, touching on the army, its supplies and the state of the soldiers' morale, their attitudes, whether an agreement could be reached with Lord Baratheon to remain neutral in exchange for the seat on the Small Council that his grandfather had offered in place of his own, knowing that it was his decision that had caused the betrothal to his daughters to be broken off.

When he had heard all he wished he closed the council by dismissing everyone but his wife.

She looked at him with her characteristic composure, watching as he removed Aegon the Conqueror's crown from his head and placed it with reverence on the top of the stone table in front of him. He gazed at its steel surface thoughtfully, tapping the tip of his finger against it, each time causing it to make a quiet clink.

"All my life I have thought about this moment. But it's not how I imagined it." He said finally, his voice impassive and tired. He heard her sigh quietly with understanding, looking down at his hands.

"I know."

They were silent for a moment, hearing only the sounds coming from outside the windows, the loud conversations of guards and servants shouting in the courtyard.

"They'll think I'm a craven." He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling uncertainty and frustration rising in his chest − he sensed that she looked at him, her hand tightening on his, as if she wanted to give him the courage to do the right thing.

"He knows this is what you fear most. He'll laugh and mock that you're afraid to face him, but we both know he'll do it because he hopes it will break you. Don't let him dictate to you the terms of when and where you will face each other. It's humiliating." She said with a certainty from which he felt a squeeze in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, his thumb running over her soft skin.

"I'm expecting your child."

He shuddered, looking at her with his lips parted in disbelief, his heart began to pound hard at the thought that just a month after she'd given birth to his son, despite their shared promises, he'd come deep inside her when he'd made love to her, unable to stop himself, her hands clenched tightly on his bare buttocks, her sweet moans begging for his seed.

How could he deny her?

"Forgive me." He whispered in a trembling voice, thinking of the nightmare she'd endured, of how long she'd been unable to recover from it, how close she'd come to leaving this world. He heard her hum under her breath as she smiled softly, shaking her head.

"No. It is a good omen. A sign from the gods that they favour you." She replied, looking at him as if she was the one who wanted to comfort him, his fingers intertwined with hers. "I think this time will be different. I already know what to expect and that I can count on your support, my King."

He nodded, lifting her hand to his lips, placing a loud, lingering kiss on her smooth skin.

"They have taken pity on me, sending me you as my wife. My Queen." He muttered, drawing her close to him, gripping her waist, seating her comfortably on his lap, leaning against the back of his chair with a quiet sigh, gazing at her familiar, pleasant figure with tenderness.

She smiled warmly at his words, taking his face in her hands, stroking it with her thumbs. He closed his eyes, letting his body loosen, feeling sleepy and tired even though his manhood clearly expressed its pleasure at her closeness, swelling in his breeches.

"I will order a meal to be prepared for you and brought to your chamber. You have hardly eaten or slept for days."

"Mmm." He hummed, satisfied, as always, that she was watching him, that she knew what he needed without asking him unnecessary questions.

While this would surely have caused his frustration with another woman, her initiative didn't bother him; on the contrary, it made his daily life a lot easier, giving him the feeling that he didn't have to think of everything himself.

She was the one who decided what attire he should wear for what occasion, what they would eat for their morning meal, knowing what he liked most. To his satisfaction, she also found herself in the role of mother, establishing a close bond with their son, Jace's attachment to her and how joyfully he reacted to the sight of her made her eager to hold him in her embrace, letting him watch her feed him in the evenings.

His greatest weakness, as he found out, proved to be not the lack of his eye or control over his fiery temper, but the taste of her milk melting across his palate as his son slept peacefully at night with his belly filled with her food.

He clamped his mouth over her swollen, puffy nipples, sucking on them greedily as his fat cock thrust impatiently into her slick interior, teasing with its tip the spot inside her that made her moan shamelessly with pleasure.

"− my King −" She sobbed sweetly with her thighs spread wide, letting him pound into her with deep, fast pushes, purring with pleasure into the skin of her breasts, swallowing loudly her wonderful nectar. His sound vibrated through her entire body making her walls clench against him greedily, squeezing him, his thumb teasing and trailing around her pearl, making her fingers dig helplessly into his naked, sweaty back.

"− this is a meal worthy of the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, don't you think? − my wife's sweet, warm milk −" He murmured, running the tip of his nose over her nipple only to move his face to her other breast, repeating the same process, justifying his behaviour by the fact that he knew the excess milk was causing her pain and discomfort, and he couldn't imagine it going to waste.

"− yes − it's all yours − f-fuck −" She muttered, tilting her head back, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders with his low groan as he felt her core begin to pulse around his manhood in orgasm, squeezing his seed out of him.

He didn't have the strength to resist and just filled her with himself, sighing in relief, licking her nipple with the tip of his tongue, as oversensitive as the rest of her body − she whimpered, trying to push him away but he wouldn't let her, busy with sucking her milk until she calmed down.

"− Aemond, please − oh gods −" She mumbled softly, completely absorbed in her fulfilment, panting heavily. He remained deep inside her, leaning on his elbow, not wanting to crush her with his body, remembering in the back of his mind about the baby in her womb.

"− what is it? − my wife is overwhelmed? − impossible −" He sneered with a grin of satisfaction − since it appeared that his attention to her breasts aroused not only him, she was soaking wet for him, her fulfilment approaching quickly and violently, making her body completely vulnerable and limp, as if she herself was shocked by how intense the sensation was.

"− I didn't even notice when you filled me again, my King − I'm inclined to think you're drawing satisfaction from my pleasure −" She cooed with a sweet smile, from which he chuckled under his breath, leaning towards her − her hand pulled him closer as their lips joined in a hot, sticky, soft kiss, her swollen breasts pressed against his chest.

He ran the tip of his nose over hers, looking into her eyes, a violet he adored − the shade of her irises slightly darker than his, warmer, shimmering wonderfully in the moonlight illuminating their bed.

He wanted to confess to her the many things that did not slip through his throat, the affection that filled his heart with heat, yet he remained silent, looking at her with a gaze she knew well. She always reacted the same way, her soft hand stroking his jaw as only two words came out of her mouth, spoken in a whisper.

"I know."

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter one

Summary: It has been six months since half the universe came back, six months since Steve left, six months since you lost Natasha, and three months since finding out the man you were sleeping with wanted to end it.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout.

Word Count: 1600

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I have watched TFATWS at least 6 times this week so I am prepared for this.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff

As Sam addressed the crowd at the Smithsonian, you listened to his every word by Rhodey’s side. You let yourself laugh at the appropriate moments and fought back tears as your friend paid tribute to another. Your heart ached as you watched him pass on the shield, the symbol that guided you to become the best agent you could and more.

“I can’t do this,” you murmured almost inaudibly as you slipped away from the crowd, retreating to the quiet street. You steadied your thoughts, taking a few deep breaths. Retrieving your phone from your purse, you hesitated before dialing a number. “Come on,” you urged as the ringing persisted. 

Disappointment washes over you as you realize there’s no answer on the other end, you stand there for a moment. Staring at your call lost, feeling the loneliness creep in as you see that none of your calls have been picked up. Taking another deep breath, you put your phone back and start walking. Each step is a deliberate effort to move forward. 

While navigating the streets of Washington, your thoughts are focused on the events at the Smithsonian. The passing of the shield symbolized the end of an era for you. An era that had taken over your entire adult life. 

~

You enter your quiet apartment and sink onto the couch. The weight of the day, flight, and lack of food were starting to seem heavier, you couldn’t bring yourself to get changed out of the formal black dress you had been wearing since half four that morning. You retrieved your phone from your purse once again, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated whether to try calling again. 

You knew it was getting late but you dialed the number again, heart pounding with anticipation. As the phone rang, you tried not getting your hopes up, but they were crushed when it went to voicemail. 

Sighing deeply, you set your phone down as you got back up from the couch and made your way back out into the street. You were proud of yourself for not letting the tears spill down your cheeks. 

The streets were quiet, and the soft glow of the streetlights offered a semblance of solace. With no destination in your mind, you wandered as the hunger gnawed at your stomach. Searching for a nearby restaurant for a late-night bite, you approached the diner you knew as Izzy. 

Your heart lurched in your chest as you recognized the figure through the window, sitting opposite a woman, she seemed to be laughing at whatever it was he was telling her. Playing a game of Battleship and drinking. “Not like that’s going to affect him,” you thought as you took in the sight. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, the tears you previously held back now beginning to spill. 

~

Once you were home and washed the day off of you, a hint of optimism rose from within you. Deciding to open yourself up to a new experience, you downloaded a popular dating app and uploaded all the photos of you in dresses that hugged your body just the way you loved. The way he once said should be for his eyes only. Swiping through profiles, it didn’t take long for you to come across someone who caught your eye, and match with them. 

You exchanged messages for the rest of the night, at some point agreeing to meet for brunch the next morning.

~

Your date was waiting for you when you arrived at the cafe, a friendly smile lighting up his face. Exchanging greetings, he pulled out a chair for you and helped with your coat and bag. You thanked him, finding yourself relaxed in his company. 

Settling into conversation, you shared stories, laughed, and began feeling a genuine connection. You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly feel this happy in three months, letting yourself let go of the weight that had been pressed into your chest for so long.

“Is that? Is that The Winter Soldier?” your date asked, his focus moving away from you and instead toward the entrance of the cafe. Turning your gaze over to where your date had been looking, it felt like time stopped as you looked into the eyes of a furrowing James Buchanan Barnes. His fist clenched under his leather gloves. 

“Here we go,” you mumbled under your breath as you noticed him making his way over to you. With trembling hands, you reached for the glass of champagne that sat on the table in front of you. Tilting the glass back, you swallowed every last drop of it in an attempt to calm yourself down. 

“I need to speak to you,” Bucky growled, his voice low and commanding as he towered over you. As much as you’ve wanted nothing more than to be around him for the last three months, you kept your gaze fixed on your date. “Now.” 

“I’m on a date,” your tone even with a hint of defiance as you responded to the super soldier. You watched as the eyes of your date filled with fear and amazement. 

“I can see that,” he replied dryly, sarcasm dripping in his tone as he gave your date a pointed look. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the tension between you and Bucky. 

“Whatever you have to say, it can wait,” your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m here with someone else,” you added emphasis on ‘someone else’ as you sensed him tense up beside you. 

Your date cleared his throat, shooting a hesitant glance between you and Bucky. He spoke up, his tone polite but uneasy. “Perhaps I should… give you two some privacy?” He began to stand from the table, making his way over to the restrooms. Bucky quickly sat in the seat he had previously occupied. 

Your gaze was ablaze with a mixture of hurt and frustration as you finally made eye contact with Bucky. “What do you want?” your voice trembled slightly. 

Bucky couldn’t suppress the sarcasm that came from his tone as he looked over toward the restrooms. “Well, he seems like a real charmer,” his tone full of irony. 

You shot him a disapproving look, eyebrows knitting together in a silent warning. “Again, what do you want?” Bucky looked back at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Rolling your eyes, you defended the man you had known for less than 12 hours. “He’s a nice guy,” 

Leaning back in his seat, Bucky folded his arms across his chest as he sent you a knowing look. “If you say so,” he remarked. If it wasn’t for the dry and snarky tone, you’d have thought he was backing down. “And, I’m sure he can handle a doll such as you,” he continued while sending you a wink. 

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me like you have done for the last three months?” you sighed, picking up your fork and using it to move food around your plate.

“I saw the pictures you used for your little dating profile,” he glared at you when he noticed a smirk now taking place over your lips.

You shrugged nonchalantly and replied with a calm tone. “Yeah, and?”

His jaw tightened at your response, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Thought they were only for me?” he pressed.

Your expression softened, remorse flickering over your features as you looked back at him. “Things change,” you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. “I waited five years for you to come back, five years of not even knowing if you were coming back,” your voice quivered with emotion.

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he straightened his posture. “I know-” he began to speak but you cut him off before he could finish.

“No, Bucky, you don’t” you shot back at him, your voice rising with each word. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it was like, not know where you went, or if you were alive or dead, or if you’d even come back,” 

His jaw once again clenched, “I waited over 90 years for you to come into my life,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion and vulnerability. 

Your eyes widened at his admission, you were both surprised and in disbelief, “But yet, you only waited three months before jumping into bed with someone else,” you accused, voice thick with bitterness. “How was your night of Battleship, by the way?”

His hands balled into fists on top of the table, his voice raised to match yours. “Firstly, I didn’t sleep with her,” he retorted. “And secondly, what the fuck is this?” he gestures toward your date as he started to make his way back out of the restroom.

“I’m sorry,” your date now interrupts your conversation with Bucky as he makes his way back over to you. “I didn’t know you two are exes,” 

“He’s not my ex!” 

“She’s not my ex!”

~

Alone in the dimly lit apartment, you allowed yourself to have a moment to rest, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The weight of your date pressing down on your shoulders. Surprisingly, he asked for a second date. Once Bucky had left, he offered to take you out again another time. You happily agreed.

As you began to drift into a state of relaxation, the sound of the television caught your attention. “... it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” 

“What the fuck?!”

---

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[aphroditelovesu]

Kinktober Day Twelve — Exhibitionism

❝ — 🍷 lady l: day twelve of kinktober!! I hope you like it!! Also, art is not mine, credit to the creators, unfortunately, I couldn't find them. Sorry for any mistakes ❤️

❝🍷pairing: yandere!dionysus x female!reader.

❝warnings: smut, NSFW, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving).

❝🍷word count: 1,130.

In ancient times, in the leafy hills of Greece, a fervent worship followed Dionysus, the god of wine, the party and ecstasy. Each spring, when the first sunbeams began to heat the earth, his followers gathered in ecstasy to celebrate his God in a spectacle known as Bacchanal.

The place chosen for this celebration was a clear in the heart of the forest, where centenary trees rose majestically around a rustic altar. Dressed with purple tunics and vine garlands tangled in his hair, followers of Dionysus danced and intoned songs in honor of the god of wine.

As the wine flowed freely into ceramic glasses, joy and passion took over everyone. Musicians played flutes and drums, and the flames of a large bonfire crackled in the center of the circle, casting a dancing light on the ecstatic faces of the participants.

Dionysus was represented by a young man, often chosen for his beauty and grace. He personified the god, and his followers paid homage to him, offering him grapes and wine. In the midst of the celebration, a reverential silence fell over the place when the young Dionysus ascended the altar and, in a gesture of divine communion, shared the wine with those present.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere became more intense and liberating. Followers danced barefoot, losing themselves in an ecstasy that connected them directly with the divine. It didn't matter their social origin, everyone was equal before Dionysus.

The Bacchanal of Dionysus was a tribute to the joy, vitality and strength of nature. In those moments of celebration, followers disconnected from the concerns of the everyday world, surrendering themselves to the power of the god of wine, in a search for spiritual transcendence through the party. And so, every spring, the Greek hills were filled with the singing, dancing and euphoria of Dionysus' devotees, in a festival that reminded everyone of the importance of celebrating life and the passion it offers.

You always knew that Dionysus was an armed exhibitionist and never had problems with that. Part because you were one too, but the idea of letting him fuck you in front of his followers was at least strange and a little uncomfortable.

His followers are all drunk, as they were always in the festivities, and they would hardly remember that, but you were still not sure.

Dionysus, however, already knew what he wanted and he always got what he wanted.

You on your knees and sucking him until you beg for him to fuck you in front of his followers. And he intended to accomplish this fantasy.

Dionysus stroked your face and removed a lock of hair from your eye and admired their color for a moment.

"On your knees." He said in an authoritarian way and you, not knowing how to react, obeyed him and fell on your knees to your God. You stuck your hand under his chiton and you stroked him as you felt his cock hard.

You approached more and pulled the chiton's fabric to the side, giving the complete sight of his cock for you. You could feel your salivary mouth and, without caring about the others, you licked the tip timidly. Your tongue moistened to the glans of his cock and Dionysus gasped.

You took his cock with your hand and suck him, swallowing the maximum of the length of the god you could handle. What was not fit in your mouth, you took with your hand and made light movements from top to bottom.

"F-Fuck!" Dionysus moaned and stroked your hair. The vision of you on your knees for him and sucking his cock was very delicious. He looked to the side and saw his followers observe you with interest. He smiled at them and drank a sip of his glass of wine.

You removed it from your mouth with an obscene sound and smiled to the god, your lips wet. You squeezed his cock and licked all the length, your tongue lingering on the glans. Dionysus moaned loudly and pulled you through the hair, forcing you to stop sucking it.

"Take off your clothes." He ordered and you, hesitantly, obeyed and slid your chiton through your body, giving the vision of your nakedness to all presents. Contrary to what you imagined, it filled you with desire and your core throbbed.

Dionysus removed his own chiton and stood naked too, he sat in the chair and slapped it lightly on his thigh. You understood what you should do and slowly, you took his shoulders, balancing, and after adjusting a little, your pussy was dangerously close to his dick.

"Ride me, sweetie." He whispered and you went down slowly, your cunt swallowing Dionysus's cock as you thrust his cock on you. You took a deep breath and moaned, feeling full. Dionysus grabbed your hip and gave a little push up, causing you to squirm with pleasure.

You moaned and squeezed the broad shoulders of the god and without caring about the crowd that watched you intently, you ride him. Your breasts moved as you moved your body and Dionysus kissed your neck, still squeezing your hip.

You whined when the god sucked the skin with a little force, definitely leaving a mark. You squeezed his shoulders and ride his cock frantically. Your cunt sucking his cock, your body receiving waves of pleasure with every move.

Dionysus looked around and smirked at his followers, who faced you with lust. Some drank his wine, others ate grapes and others kissed and touched.But they all had one thing in common, they never took the gaze from you.

"Your pussy is so good, princess!" Dionysus moaned and squeezed your waist, his head tucked between your breasts and licking your nipple from your left breast. You whimpered and felt your climax approach.

Dionysus threw his head back and moaned your name as he came inside you, his cum filling your tight pussy. You moaned and moving quickly on his cock, you came, your pussy clenching around him, cumming on his cock.

You clutched to the god, your body shaking a little. You did not dare look at others, not wanting to know what they were doing.

Dionysus lazily began to move inside you, his hip pushing up slowly. You looked up and looked at him in his eyes. He smirked.

"Our joke is just starting, princess." He drank a sip of his wine and kept moving his hip slowly. You moaned and grabbed him harder.

His followers never ceasing to look at his body.

[kckt88]

Skoros iksos ñuhon

Summary:

Vaelyssa is not the only one at Storms End seeking the support of Borros Baratheon.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Langauage, Arguements, Vulnerability, Realisation, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C NIECE

Skoros iksos ñuhon - What is mine.

Word Count: 7922

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

Vermithor landed with a heavy thud in the courtyard, water spraying in every direction from the force of his landing. Princess Vaelyssa climbed down from his back; her long silver hair plastered to her face by the rain. She ran a hand down Vermithor's scaled body, feeling the warmth radiate through her fingers. The dragon let out a low, contented rumble as he nuzzled against her.

Suddenly, a louder, more ominous growl echoed through the courtyard. Vaelyssa's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see the massive form of Vhagar, looming over the wall.

If she was here, then that meant Aemond was here as well. The hostility that been brewing between their family over the years had finally erupted, now the Greens had usurped the Iron Throne and had crowned Aegon as King of the seven kingdoms, defying her mother, Rhaenyra's, rightful claim, as set forth by the recently deceased King Viserys.

Vaelyssa took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The knights of Storm's End approached, their armour clinking softly as they moved.

“I am Princess Vaelyssa Velaryon and I have a message for Lord Borros Baratheon, on behalf of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen”.

The knight gazed at Vaelyssa; his expression unreadable as he turned and gestured for her to follow.

"Come-“ he said, his voice carrying over the rain. "Lord Borros Baratheon waits in the Great Hall."

She nodded, casting one last glance at Vermithor before following the knights. The courtyard was a blur of grey stone and wet banners as they made their way inside, the heavy wooden doors closing behind them with a resounding thud.

Inside, the Great Hall was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. Lord Borros sat on his makeshift stone throne, his round imposing figure radiating authority. His eyes were sharp as they took in the sight of the drenched princess.

"Princess Vaelyssa, of house Velaryon"

As Vaelyssa stood silent, her gaze shifted to Aemond, who stood off to the side with one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. He stood tall and confident; his hands clasped behind his back in a posture of ease that belied the underlying threat he posed.

The daughter, a striking young woman with dark hair and piercing eyes, seemed captivated by his presence, her attention focused solely on him.

Aemond's expression was inscrutable, but Vaelyssa could sense the smug satisfaction radiating from him. His presence here was a calculated move, a silent assertion of the Greens' unwillingness to wait for an answer to the terms that Otto Hightower had delivered to her mother on Dragonstone. His singular amethyst eye caught the torchlight, glinting with a mix of amusement and menace.

Vaelyssa's eyes narrowed as she observed him. It had only been a number of days since she had last seen him, strutting out of the dining room after his final tribute to her younger brothers had resulted in a fist fight.

Before that she’d not seen him since that fateful night on Driftmark where he had lost an eye but gained a dragon.

Never would she forget the painful grimace on his face as the Maester’s stitched his skin back together, nor would she forget the crazed look on his mother Alicent’s face, as she demanded one of Luke’s eyes in return.

“There is a debt to be paid”.

The King had demanded that they make their apologies and show good will to one another, but no such apology came, sides were taken, and the chasm between their family widened even further.

But here, now she could not afford to show any sign of weakness or hesitation.

Her mother's claim to the throne depended on her ability to secure Lord Borros's support, and she could not let Aemond's presence intimidate her.

“Lord Borros-I brought you a message from my mother-The Queen”.

“Yet earlier today I received an envoy from the King-which is it. King or Queen. The House of the dragon doesn’t seem to know who rules it” laughed Borros.

Vaelyssa glanced over at Aemond who cocked his head to the side and smirked.

“What’s your mother’s message?” asked Borros impatiently.

Vaelyssa handed a rolled up scroll to one of the escorting knights who rushed forward and handed it to Borros, who couldn’t read a single word that was written and had to summon a Maester.

Whilst the Maester relayed Rhaenyra’s message, Aemond stared at Vaelyssa, his hands still folded behind his back.

Not one to be cowed, she glared back. They had been friends when they were children but gone was the sweet boy who stole honey cakes for her, and in his place stood a man, leather clad and lithe, his features sharp almost as if he had been carved by the gods of old Valyria themselves. He truly was beautiful, just a shame he was such a loathsome cunt.

“Remind me of my father��s oath. King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids-which one of my daughters will your brother’s wed?”

“My lord-I’m afraid that only two of my brothers are of age and neither are free to marry, they are already betrothed” replied Vaelyssa.

“-And what of you Princess?” asked Borros stroking his chin.

The rain outside Storm's End intensified, turning from a steady downpour into a relentless deluge. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and lightning occasionally lit up the dark sky.

“Me? My Lord” questioned Vaelyssa.

“I have no longer have a wife-and you are of age to marry” said Borros “You are young and if you are anything like your mother, I am sure you will give me many sons”.

“My Lord I-“

“My late wife blessed me only with daughters-I am left without a male heir” replied Borros.

“Under my mother’s rule-the eldest would inherit lands and titles regardless of their gender” said Vaelyssa.

“But that is not my desire Princess-“ quipped Borros as he leaned forward slightly.

“Apologise my lord but I am not free to marry either-” replied Vaelyssa, her gaze momentarily fixed on Aemond who’s eye widened slightly at her announcement.

“Is that so?” asked Borros leaning forward slightly.

“My brother travels North to offer my hand in marriage to Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell”.

Again, Vaelyssa looked towards Aemond who’s hand was now resting around the pommel of his sword, his jaw clenched tight.

His chosen Baratheon girl was trying to speak to him, but he paid her no attention.

“Then you come with empty hands-you will tell your mother that the Lord of Storms End is not some dog she can whistle up at need to set against her foes”.

“I will take your answer to the Queen” replied Vaelyssa as she bowed her head politely.

As she turned to go, the wind howled outside, and the heavy wooden doors of the hall rattled in their frames. The storm was worsening by the minute.

"Wait, Princess-" Lord Borros called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the storm. She paused and turned back to face him; her curiosity piqued.

"In good conscience, I cannot allow you to risk traveling back to Dragonstone in this storm," Lord Borros continued, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "The weather is too treacherous. I offer you a room for the night. You may leave in the morning once the storm has passed”.

Vaelyssa hesitated for a moment, then inclined her head in gratitude. "Thank you, my Lord. I accept your generous offer."

Lord Borros nodded, and then his gaze shifted to Aemond, who had been silently observing the exchange with a faint, unreadable smile. "Prince Aemond," Borros said, "I extend the same courtesy to you. It would be unwise to travel in such conditions."

Aemond's smile widened slightly, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Your hospitality is appreciated, Lord Borros. I, too, will stay until the storm passes."

Vaelyssa's eyes met Aemond's for a brief, tense moment before she turned away, following the servants who had been summoned to show her to her room. The castle corridors were dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls.

The sound of the storm outside seemed to grow louder, the wind howling and the rain lashing against the windows.

She was led to a modest but comfortable chamber, the bed adorned with thick furs and a fire crackling in the hearth. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the chill of the storm outside, and Vaelyssa felt a sense of weariness wash over her. She thanked the servants and closed the door behind her, allowing herself a moment of solitude.

As she sat by the fire, her thoughts turned to the events of the day. The refusal of Lord Borros was a setback, but she could not dwell on it now, Storms End might be a lost cause but mayhaps her brothers would have better luck.

Cregan Stark was said to be an honourable man and if he allied with her mother then the rest of the North would follow and Lady Jeyne Arryn was their kin, it was doubtful she would turn against them.

Vaelyssa stood by the window, gazing out into the stormy night. The rain pounded against the glass, and the wind howled like a restless beast. The food the maids had recently brought was only partially eaten, and the wine was bitter on her tongue.

Almost as if he sensed her unease, Vermithor’s deafening roar pierced through the storm. His massive, bronze-scaled form was a reassuring presence in the midst of her lingering uncertainty.

Almost immediately, Vhagar answered with an equally impressive roar, her call reverberating through the walls of Storm's End.

Vaelyssa let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, seeing Aemond here had unsettled her and she couldn’t stop thinking of the look he had on his face when she announced that she was not free to marry, it was the same look he’d given her when she stood next to Jacaerys in the throne room for the petition for Driftmark and again when she sat next to him at the feast.

Never had a man looked at her in that way before.

She began to undress, her mind preoccupied with the events of the day and the challenges that lay ahead.

As she removed her outer garments, the door to her chamber suddenly opened. Startled, she turned to see Aemond standing there dressed in only a cotton shirt and leather trousers, his tall figure framed by the flickering light of the torches in the hallway. He stepped quickly inside, and shut the door, making sure to lock it behind him.

"What do you want, Aemond?" Vaelyssa demanded, her voice steady but edged with irritation. "Leave, or I will make you."

Aemond's lips curled into a smirk, his single amethyst eye glinting with amusement. "The fight would be little challenge," he said, his tone mocking.

“You clearly don’t know me very well” replied Vaelyssa, he face growing hot as she noticed Aemond’s gaze sweeping over her, pausing at her breasts which were no doubt visible through the thin material of her shift.

Aemond closed the distance between them, a determined glint in his eye. "There is a debt to pay" he said, his voice low as he reached up and removed his eyepatch, revealing the sapphire embedded in the socket where his left eye had once been.

Clearly her uncle was trying to intimidate her, but she would not fall for his provocations.

Vaelyssa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is that supposed to frighten me? Because I can tell you now that it doesn’t, and neither does it impress me qȳbor" (Uncle).

Aemond's jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. "What if I demanded your eye in payment for the one, I lost?" he asked.

Vaelyssa met his gaze unflinchingly, her expression defiant. "Not my debt to pay and I thought your claim of Vhagar was worth the loss of an eye," she retorted. "Or is your hoary old bitch of a dragon no longer worth it?"

The insult hit its mark, and Aemond's face twisted with fury. His fists clenched at his sides.

"You dare speak of Vhagar that way?" he hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You know nothing of what it means to ride her, to command the largest dragon in the world."

"Tell me, Aemond," she began, her tone mocking, "Do you truly believe the almighty Vhagar could withstand a combined attack from Vermithor, Caraxes, and Meleys? She might be the largest dragon in the world, but even she is not invincible."

Aemond simply stared at her, his expression unreadable as he processed her words.

"You always seem so eager to remind everyone how large Vhagar is," said Vaelyssa, a sly smile playing on her lips. "One might wonder if you're trying to overcompensate for other-smaller matters."

Aemond's face twisted in anger once again "You think you're so clever," he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "But your sharp tongue won't save you from the reality of this war-your mother is not fit to rule.”

Vaelyssa's eyes blazed with defiance as she met his gaze. "And what about your precious Greens?" she shot back. "You cling to the throne like parasites. Your brother is nothing but a puppet, and you, Aemond, are his most pathetic string."

“You dare-“

“Tell me, does it sting knowing that your older, wastrel of a brother is given everything while you, the dutiful son, gets nothing?”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I do,” Vaelyssa purred as she reached out and ran a finger down Aemond’s chest. “Tell me, do you not envision yourself sitting upon the Iron Throne? Don’t you think yourself worthy to be King? Or are you content with always living in Aegon’s shadow?”

Aemond’s fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. “You think you can provoke me with your petty words?”

“Petty?” Vaelyssa laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “-I’m merely pointing out the obvious. You serve, you obey, you sacrifice, and for what? To watch your drunken, whoring wastrel of a brother wear the crown that you believe should have been yours?”

Aemond took a step forward, his face contorted with anger. “Aegon is the King. That is the order of things.”

“The order of things?” Vaelyssa scoffed. “And you, so loyal and dutiful, never once imagined it differently? Never once thought that you could do better, be better?”

Aemond’s eye blazed with fury, and he took another menacing step toward her. “You presume too much”.

“Do I?” she challenged, her voice cold and piercing. “Or is it that I’ve struck a nerve? You can lie to yourself, Aemond, but deep down, you know the truth. You want the throne, you crave it, it is my mother’s by right, she is the named heir”.

“Viserys changed his mind”.

“According to who?” snapped Vaelyssa, her voice sharp and incredulous.

“My mother was tending to him in his final moments, and he declared in her presence that he wished for Aegon to be King,” said Aemond, his tone defensive but resolute.

Vaelyssa's eyes blazed with fury. “And my grandsire who that very same day, dragged himself out of his sickbed to defend his daughter in front of the realm—only to change his mind hours later? Do me a favour,” she retorted, her voice dripping with scepticism.

“Are you calling my mother a liar?” Aemond's singular eye narrowed, his jaw tightening.

“My grandsire steadfastly upheld my mother’s status as his heir for over twenty years. He wouldn’t change his mind, not like that” Vaelyssa said, her voice firm with conviction.

Aemond's face darkened with a mixture of anger and frustration. “You think I would lie about something like this?”

“You’ll believe what you want to in order to justify your actions-this entire situation reeks of Otto Hightowers manipulations, after the death of my grandmother he shoved his own daughter under a grieving Kings nose and used her to further his own ambitions”.

“That’s not-“ muttered Aemond.

“-What happened? Of course it is. Even down his clever manipulation of Viserys. He played on my grandsire’s fears over my father and advocated for my mother to be named heir because he knew damn well that it would be easier to usurp a woman-”

“Daemon was too much of a risk-” said Aemond.

“The only risk was my father seeing Otto Hightower for what he really is-” snarled Vaelyssa.

“Loyal and unwavering-“

“A CUNT!” snarled Vaelyssa.

“Your language is unbecoming of a Princess-“

“I don’t give a flying fuck-your grandsire is nothing but an oath breaking cunt who seeks to reach far beyond his station and it’s not a question of if my mother takes back the Iron Throne, it’s when and I can tell you that when she does your grandsire will find himself a head shorter, and so will the other treasonous dogs who plotted against her”.

Aemond observed her for a moment, a strange expression on his face before he seized her by the back of her neck, pulling her close. His lips crashed into hers with a fierce, almost brutal intensity. The kiss was rough, a clash of wills, a battle for dominance.

At first, Vaelyssa was stunned, her body rigid with surprise. But as the heat of the moment consumed her, she found herself responding, pulling him closer.

The initial shock melted away, replaced by a fiery passion that surged through her veins. She returned the kiss with equal fervour, their lips moving together in a furious dance.

Aemond’s grip on her neck tightened, his other hand snaking around her waist to press her against him. Vaelyssa’s hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him even closer.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily, their faces flushed. Aemond’s eye burned with a mix of anger and desire, and Vaelyssa’s own gaze mirrored that intensity.

"Is this what you wanted?" Aemond growled, his voice low and rough. "To provoke me?"

Vaelyssa’s lips curled into a defiant smirk, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to see if you truly were a dragon and not a slithering green Hightower snake."

Aemond’s grip on her neck loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. "You’ve seen my fire," he murmured, his voice softer but no less intense. "Now, what will you do with it?"

In response, Vaelyssa leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. The passion between them didn’t wane; if anything, it grew hotter, more intense. The kiss was no longer a battle but a mutual surrender to the heat that had been building between them.

As they broke apart once more, their foreheads resting against each other, the reality of their situation began to seep back in. They were on opposite sides of a war, bound by duty and loyalty to their respective causes. But in this moment, none of that mattered. All that existed was the fire they had ignited between them.

"We are playing with fire, Aemond," Vaelyssa whispered, her voice tinged with a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation.

"Let it burn," Aemond replied, his tone equally resolute. "Let it consume us both."

Vaelyssa had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.

“My niece-my sweetest-” whispered Aemond.

Vaelyssa’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

She bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to slowly tease her entrance.

“None of that. I want to hear how good I make you feel” growled Aemond as he began moving his tongue against her, in rhythm with his fingers.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Vaelyssa, as she writhed against the sheets.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen. Come for me” whispered Aemond, his tongue moving across her pearl.

Vaelyssa arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond slowly crawled up her body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Vaelyssa blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself issa zaldrīzes” muttered Aemond, as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth, sucking off her slick. (My dragon).

Goosebumps erupted over Vaelyssa’s skin as Aemond removed his hand from his mouth and then took hold of her breast, his fingers teasing her rosy bud.

“A-Aemond” whimpered Vaelyssa.

“Sīr gevie” growled Aemond (So Beautiful).

“W-What are you doing?” asked Vaelyssa as Aemond’s hand slid down her body and began teasing her folds.

“I-I need to prepare you a little more” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Vaelyssa.

“I assume you are a maiden-I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond.

“Aemond” exclaimed Vaelyssa as he slowly slipped a finger inside her, the slick from her first peak easing the way.

Aemond buried his face in Vaelyssa’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger, moving them in and out slowly.

“So warm-so wet for me” rasped Aemond, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“I-I think I’m ready” whispered Vaelyssa.

Aemond removed his fingers and then moved between her open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against her slick entrance.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes-I want you Aemond-all of you” replied Vaelyssa as she felt him running his cock along her entrance.

“Y-You must tell me if it hurts” whispered Aemond.

Vaelyssa nodded and shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

“I-It h-hurts-“ whimpered Vaelyssa, the burning sensation bringing tears to her eyes.

“If it’s too much I can pull out-” offered Aemond.

“N-No just give me a moment” replied Vaelyssa softly as the tears ran down her cheeks.

Aemond leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to her cheeks, his tongue catching her fallen tears.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Vaelyssa sighed in relief. 

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I-I think you can move now” whispered Vaelyssa her hands running along the smooth plans of Aemond’s back.

Slowly Aemond withdrew and then moved forward, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“Are you ok?” repeated Aemond as he thrust inside her.

“Y-yes-I think you can move faster”.

Aemond rested his head in the crook of her neck as he thrusts faster, his moans muffled against her skin.

“Ooh Aemond-that feels good” whined Vaelyssa.

“Your perfect-” whispered Aemond.

Feeling a spark of pleasure Vaelyssa dug her fingers into Aemonds back, holding him close.

“P-please Aemond. F-faster. H-harder” exclaimed Vaelyssa.

“Lyssa-” moaned Aemond as he began to pound into her, his hips slapping against hers.

“-I-I f-feel-” whimpered Vaelyssa, an odd sensation creeping across her stomach.

“-Let it happen-my sweetest, peak for me” exclaimed Aemond.

“OH-”

“Fuck-that’s it-that’s it” muttered Aemond as he slipped his hand between their bodies and slowly began rubbing her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelyssa as her peak exploded, making her entire body shake.

“I-I’m going to give you my seed-see you all round and swollen with my child-your breasts filled with milk” moaned Aemond.

“Yes-yes. Aemond. I want it-” babbled Vaelyssa as his thrusts became more frantic.

“Fuck-” groaned Aemond as he felt the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“-Aemond” whimpered Vaelyssa.

“ñuhon, ry ñuhon” moaned Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled rope after rope of his seed (Mine, all mine).

“Ry aōhon” whispered Vaelyssa, as Aemond rested on top of her (All yours).

“A-Are you ok?”  Aemond as he gently pulled his softened cock from Vaelyssa, he looked down and saw the mixture of his seed and her maidens blood dripping onto the sheet.

Vaelyssa nodded slowly, as she allowed him to enfold her in his arms and hold her close.

"What happens now?" asked Vaelyssa softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Are we just to go back to being enemies in the morning?"

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his fingers tracing absent patterns on her bare shoulder. "No," he replied finally, his voice low and steady. "I will accompany you to Dragonstone and declare for Rhaenyra."

Vaelyssa's eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. "You-you would declare for my mother?" she asked, incredulous.

Aemond nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he affirmed. "For you."

Vaelyssa searched his face, trying to comprehend his sudden change of allegiance. "Why, Aemond?" she pressed gently. "Why would you do that?"

“Nyke jaelagon naejot dīnagon ao” replied Aemond (I wish to marry you).

“My father will have his sword at your neck the moment you leave Vhagar’s side”.

“That maybe so, but surely your mother will see the benefits of our union, without Vhagar Kings Landing is vulnerable and my brother’s position as King will be weakened, no doubt your father’s bloodlust will be sated by rooting out the traitors who conspired against his Queen-” said Aemond.

“-If you declare for her, then she is to be your Queen as well” muttered Vaelyssa.

“Only if she accepts my request for your hand in marriage," admitted Aemond, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "-And by our marriage, one day I will be King."

Vaelyssa blinked, processing his words. "Is that what this is? You desire the throne, and your using me to get it” she asked quietly, her mind racing with the implications of his confession and admittedly the thought of him using her did sting.

“Do you remember when we were children, when everyone else had their dragons and we only had each other”

“Yes” muttered Vaelyssa softly.

“-How I used to steal honey cakes for you and then we’d sit under the weirwood tree dreaming of our future-”

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Vaelyssa.

“My vision for the future was of us-together. We have always been fated, bound by more than blood. You label me Hightower, but I am a dragon, and I have found my treasure. We belong together you and I” muttered Aemond.

“-And the throne?” asked Vaelyssa.

Aemond sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "-I do want to be King, but only with you by my side as my Queen".

���Your ambitious, I’ll give you that-but why not just displace Aegon?” mused Vaelyssa.

"When you steal something, you spend your whole life fighting to keep it. I want a legitimate route to the throne, through the bonds of marriage".

“What about your betrothal to one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters?” she asked softly, her fingers tracing patterns on Aemond’s chest. “He might see it as an insult that you promised to wed one of his daughters, yet you plan to take another to wife.”

Aemond scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. “A boar is nothing compared to a dragon,” he said dismissively. “Lord Borros can be placated. If your mother accepts my terms, she can make the necessary arrangements for a marriage between Floris and some lord of note.”

Vaelyssa couldn’t help but smile at his confidence, but she knew the complexities of politics couldn’t be brushed aside so easily. “And you believe Lord Borros will simply accept this?”

Aemond’s expression turned serious. “He is ambitious, but he is also pragmatic. An alliance with House Targaryen, especially one that strengthens Rhaenyra’s claim, would be more valuable than a slighted promise. Besides, Rhaenyra can offer him, a position on the council and favourable marriages for his other daughters. He will not refuse such a boon”.

Vaelyssa nodded slowly, considering his words. “You have given this a great deal of thought” she admitted. “But there may be other who whisper of false promises”.

“Let them,” Aemond replied with a shrug. “The realm is on the brink of war. Loyalties will shift, alliances will be made and broken. In the end, what matters is who sits on the Iron Throne”.

“One might think you’ve been planning this for years.”

Aemond’s gaze was intense as he held hers. “I have,” he admitted, his voice low and fervent. “You are all I’ve wanted, since I was old enough to know the ache of wants and desires. My grandsire usurping the throne convinced me that my dream would no longer be achievable, and that placing the wants and needs of others above my own desires was something I would just have to accept.”

He paused, his fingers tracing the contours of her face. “But your arrival at Storm’s End was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. I am a determined man, Vaelyssa, and I learned long ago that nothing was ever going to be handed to me. If I wanted something, then I would have to take it.”

Vaelyssa’s breath caught in her throat at his confession. “You would risk everything for this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “For us?”

Aemond nodded, his expression resolute. “Yes. I would. Because for the first time, I see a path to the life I’ve always wanted. A life where I am not just the second son, where I am not bound by the whims of others. A life with you-providing of course that your mother accepts all of my terms-”

"What exactly are all of your terms, Aemond?" asked Vaelyssa curiously.

Aemond met her eyes, his expression resolute. "If Rhaenyra wants me to bend the knee to her, then she will allow us to marry," he stated firmly. "Our union will strengthen her claim and bring House Targaryen closer together, just as my dearly departed father always wanted-"

Vaelyssa nodded slowly "And what else?" she prompted.

Aemond's features softened slightly, a hint of vulnerability showing through his stern facade. "I want assurances that my family will be safe," he said, his voice quiet but determined. "-My mother, Aegon, Helaena, their children and Daeron—no harm will come to them. They must be allowed to live in peace."

“You will not advocate for your grandsire?” asked Vaelyssa.

“No-”

“Just as well, as my father wouldn’t allow him to live, not after what he’s done” replied Vaelyssa.

“Your father isn’t my only concern, your mother-” said Aemond.

"-My mother is not the monster you believe her to be," she began, her voice gentle yet firm. "Only those who actively repudiated the succession and conspired against her will be dealt with."

Aemond scoffed, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Did she not demand that I be sharply questioned as a child?" he retorted, his voice growing colder. "To learn where I heard such slanders against her children—slanders which, by the way, are true."

Vaelyssa’s expression softened, a mix of sadness and determination in her eyes. "It doesn’t matter," she said quietly but firmly. "Laenor claimed us as his children, so therefore in the eyes of gods and men, we are his. He loved us as his, cared for us as his."

Aemond shook his head, his frustration evident. "The truth is plain to see, when it comes to your brothers at least, Rhaenyra's claim to the throne is weakened by those lies."

Vaelyssa took a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "The truth of our parentage does not change the fact that we are my mother’s children, and Laenor’s by law. We have the right to be acknowledged and accepted. We cannot let old grudges and suspicions destroy what we are trying to build."

Aemond’s eye softened slightly, though his jaw remained tense. "You ask much of me, Vaelyssa. To overlook what I know to be true, to forgive and forget what happened".

Vaelyssa took a deep breath, looking into Aemond’s eye with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I am not asking you to forgive Luke for what he took from you," she began softly. "But I am asking for an understanding that all were in the wrong that night. Your claiming of Vhagar was ill-timed, at the funeral of her previous rider no less. You could have waited—but I understand. I know that feeling of not being enough, of having an egg that doesn't hatch-you weren’t the only one to be mocked for not having a dragon-”

Aemond's expression hardened slightly, but he listened intently, his jaw tense.

"-Vhagar chose you for a reason, just as my bronze fury chose me" Vaelyssa continued, her voice steady. "Your claim of her should have been celebrated, not marred by conflict. The fight shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have tried to bash Jace’s head in with a rock, and Luke shouldn’t have taken your eye. But he was scared, and only wanted to defend his brother."

Aemond looked away, a mix of emotions playing across his face—anger, pain, regret. "That night changed everything," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Vaelyssa nodded, her hand reaching out to gently touch his. "It did," she agreed. "And we cannot change what happened. But we can choose how we move forward. We can choose to understand each other’s pain, to acknowledge the mistakes that were made."

Aemond turned back to her, his eye searching hers for sincerity. "And what then?" he asked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Do we simply forget? Pretend it never happened?"

"No," Vaelyssa said firmly. "We remember, but we also strive to be better. To not let the past dictate our future. We use our pain, our experiences, to guide us in making wiser decisions, in fostering a realm where our future children won’t have to face the same heartaches."

Aemond’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. "It’s not easy," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "To let go of the anger, the need for vengeance."

"I know," Vaelyssa whispered, squeezing his hand. "But we have to try. For us, for our future, and for the realm. We can’t let the mistakes of our past define who we are now or who we can become, look at what it’s done to those who came before us-We must be the ones to break the cycle, or it will just keep happening until there is nothing left of House Targaryen"

Aemond's expression shifted as he absorbed Vaelyssa's words. A flicker of amusement danced in his eye, and he leaned closer, a teasing smirk curling his lips. "Our future children, you say?" he remarked, his tone playful.

Vaelyssa blinked, momentarily taken aback. "I'm trying to be sensible here and that's what you focus on?" she retorted, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Aemond's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eye. "I quite like the idea of seeing you swelling with my seed," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "Being all full of me. I think we should do all we can to ensure my seed takes”.

Vaelyssa's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, a shiver running down her spine at his words.

She opened her mouth to reply but found herself momentarily speechless as she felt Aemond’s hard cock pressed against her hip.

“Pār gūrogon issa, tepagon issa aōha nūmo se nyke shall tepagon ao nykeā tresy””muttered Vaelyssa as she coiled her hands in Aemond’s long silver hair (Then take me, give me your seed and I shall give you a son).

“Nyke jāhor emagon ao naenie jēdi bisa bantis”  growled Aemond as he rolled on top of her (I will have you many times this night).

“Hae naenie jēdi hae ao jaelagon issa dārys” (As many times as you wish my King).

The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting a golden glow over Storm's End. The storm had cleared, leaving the air crisp and fresh.

Vaelyssa stood beside Vermithor, her hands resting on his warm, rough scales, her cheek pressed against him. "Jēda naejot jikagon lenton issa dōna," she murmured softly (Time to go home, my sweet).

Vermithor trilled happily, a low, rumbling sound that reverberated through her bones.

She took a deep breath, savouring the moment of calm before the journey ahead. As she glanced over, she saw Aemond climbing the rope ladder attached to Vhagar's saddle, his movements confident and swift.

He caught her eye and gave a slight nod, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Vaelyssa couldn't help but smile back, feeling the dull throbbing sensation between her legs—a reminder of the night they had shared.

Aemond had made good on his promise, his appetite for her had been ravenous, he kissed, sucked, licked, and fucked her well into the hours of the night. Never fully satisfied until he’d filled her with his seed another three times.

Even just this morning he had reached for her again; he had refused to let her bathe afterwards and had worked himself into such a frenzy at the thought of her returning to Dragonstone with his seed dripping from her that he bent her over the small desk and fucked her hard and fast. His fingers digging into her hips as he lost himself to the pleasure he sought, his loud moans echoing around the room as he spilled himself inside her.

She placed a hand on her stomach and wondered if his seed had already taken root. She’d had her moonblood a fortnight ago and she would not take moontea so there was a chance.

Her thoughts then turned to her mother. She had been sent to secure Borros Baratheon's support, but she was returning to Dragonstone with a far greater alliance.

Vaelyssa wondered how her mother would react to the news. Would she see the wisdom in their union, the strength it would bring to her cause? Or would she be wary of the potential complications?

Vaelyssa knew one thing for certain: she had to convince her mother of the value of this alliance. She stroked Vermithor's scales one last time before stepping back, ready to mount.

Aemond was now settled atop Vhagar, his gaze steady and unwavering as he watched her. Vaelyssa climbed onto Vermithor's back, her movements graceful and practiced. She looked over at Aemond one more time, a mixture of resolve and tenderness in her eyes.

"Ready?" Aemond called out, his voice carrying over the morning breeze.

Vaelyssa finished securing the straps of her saddle and nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation. "Ready."

With a synchronized roar, Vermithor and Vhagar spread their massive wings, the powerful beats stirring up the air around them. They took to the sky, the ground falling away beneath them as they soared higher and higher.

As they flew side by side, Vaelyssa felt a sense of exhilaration and determination. She was not just returning to Dragonstone with a message; she was bringing back a promise of unity, a chance for a brighter future.

The wind rushed past her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, envisioning the world they could build together—a world where their children would grow up in peace and prosperity.

Opening her eyes, she looked over at Aemond once more, their paths now intertwined by fate and choice. Together, they would face the challenges ahead, and together, they would shape the destiny of their house and their realm.

Vermithor and Vhagar, circled Dragonstone in wide arcs, their loud roars echoing across the cliffs and the surrounding sea, announcing their arrival to all within earshot.

As the two dragons descended, their enormous wings created gusts of wind that swept across the grassy cliffs.

They landed with resounding thuds, the ground trembling beneath their combined weight. Vaelyssa swiftly unlatched herself from Vermithor's saddle, her movements practiced and fluid. She slid down his side and landed gracefully on the ground, her gaze turning to Aemond.

Aemond climbed down the rope ladder attached to Vhagar's saddle, his every movement exuding a calm confidence. When he reached the ground, he immediately sought out Vaelyssa, his eye locking onto hers. He crossed the short distance between them and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

The pair stood firm, side by side, as they awaited the arrival of her mother and father.

It wasn’t very long before the unmistaken shuffle and clang of armour permeated through the air.

Her mother and father were slowly making their way towards them, surrounded by the Queens guard.

Daemon's hand, as always, rested on the hilt of his sword, his gaze was sharp and assessing, taking in the sight of Aemond standing beside Vaelyssa.

The golden crown atop Rhaenyra's head shone brilliantly in the sunlight, a symbol of her rightful claim to the throne and the burden of the responsibility she bore.

As Rhaenyra neared, her expression one of regal composure mixed with a hint of curiosity and concern, as Aemond's grip on Vaelyssa's hand tightened.

"Mother," Vaelyssa greeted, her voice steady, though she felt the flutter of nerves in her chest.

Rhaenyra's eyes softened as she looked at her daughter, but her gaze quickly shifted to Aemond, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity evident. "Vaelyssa” she acknowledged.

Daemon stepped forward, his gaze flicking between the two. "Why is that Hightower cunt here” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of scepticism.

Vaelyssa took a deep breath, standing taller. "Please, Father let me explain-" she began, her voice strong. "As you know I was sent to secure Lord Borros Baratheon's support-but instead I have returned with an even greater alliance."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze locking onto Aemond. "Explain," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

Aemond let go of Vaelyssa’s hand and stepped forward, he unsheathed his sword and dropped to one knee.

“I Aemond of House Targaryen pledge my loyalty and that of Vhagar to you Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm-”

Daemon's gaze bore into Aemond with a piercing intensity, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. "And what assurance do we have, that this isn't some ploy?" he demanded, his voice edged with scepticism. "How do we know you're not seeking to gain our trust only to betray us later?”

Aemond met Daemon's challenging stare, his expression resolute "I swear upon my honour" he declared firmly, his voice carrying across the tense silence "My intentions are honest. I wish no harm to Queen Rhaenyra or her rule”.

Vaelyssa stepped forward, her voice joining Aemond's in earnest plea. "Father, please," she urged, her eyes pleading with Daemon. "Aemond has shown his commitment. He risked much to declare his support openly. We must consider the alliance this could bring."

Daemon's expression softened slightly as he regarded his daughter, then turned back to Aemond. "Words are wind," he stated bluntly, his tone challenging. "Actions speak louder. What will you do to prove your loyalty boy?"

Aemond's jaw clenched briefly before he spoke, his voice steady and unwavering. "I will swear any oath, undergo any trial, to prove my sincerity," he replied, his gaze locked with Daemon's.

Rhaenyra, who had been observing the exchange with a measured silence, finally spoke. "Daemon, let us hear him," she said softly, her eyes never leaving Aemond's face. "Let us hear what he proposes."

Daemon considered his wife's words, then nodded slowly. "Very well," he agreed, his voice gruff. "Speak, Aemond. What oath will you swear to prove your loyalty to the rightful Queen?"

Aemond straightened, the weight of the moment heavy upon him. He rose to his feet and took a step forward, his gaze unwavering as he addressed the Queen and her consort. "I swear by the old gods-" he began solemnly, "-that I will serve the rightful Queen with unwavering loyalty and devotion."

A murmur rippled through the Queen's Guard, and Rhaenyra raised a hand to silence them, her eyes never leaving Aemond's face. "And what do you seek in return?" she asked, her voice cool and measured.

Aemond glanced at Vaelyssa, drawing strength from her presence. "I ask for your daughter's hand in marriage," he said clearly. "And assurances that my family—my mother, my siblings and their children—will be kept safe and unharmed."

"And why do you not advocate for your grandsire?" Rhaenyra questioned; her voice measured.

Aemond met her gaze evenly. "Because it would be a pointless endeavour- he actively conspired against you" he replied firmly.

Daemon's voice cut through the silence that followed. "Who were Otto's co-conspirators?" he demanded, his tone sharp and demanding. "There is no way he acted alone. Speak the truth, boy-"

Aemond's jaw tightened briefly, his resolve unwavering. "I will name those I know of," he answered, his voice steady. "But I cannot guarantee it is an exhaustive list."

He took a breath and began, each name a weighty admission in the cold air. "Tyland Lannister” he stated plainly, his gaze flicking briefly to Vaelyssa "As well as Jasper Wylde, Maester Orwyle and Larys Strong-”

“I shall see everyone of those traitorous cunts suffer for this-” snarled Daemon, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the hilt of Dark Sister.

Rhaenyra considered Aemond’s words carefully and finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke.

"I agree to your terms, brother-" Rhaenyra declared, her voice resonating with authority. "I will guarantee the safety of Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, their children, and Daeron."

Aemond's expression softened slightly, a flicker of relief crossing his features. Beside him, Vaelyssa's eyes shone with gratitude and hope.

"But-" Rhaenyra continued, her tone firm, "-Only when I have reclaimed the Iron Throne will I permit you and Vaelyssa to marry. For now, you will be betrothed, as a pledge of our alliance."

Aemond bowed his head respectfully. "Gratitude-Your Grace”

"Now the two of you will be escorted inside-" Rhaenyra announced, her voice commanding yet tinged with a touch of warmth. "-Baths will be prepared. You both smell of dragon"

Vaelyssa and Aemond exchanged a glance, their expressions reflecting a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Of course, Your Grace," Aemond responded respectfully.

"And I expect the both of you at dinner tonight," Rhaenyra added firmly, her eyes shifting between them to emphasize her expectations.

"Yes mother-” Vaelyssa affirmed with a nod, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within her.

As they turned to make their way back toward Dragonstone, Daemon halted Vaelyssa with a gentle yet firm grasp on her arm.

Aemond hesitated momentarily, but Vaelyssa reassured him with a reassuring glance and a soft-spoken promise to join him shortly. He nodded and followed Rhaenyra and the Queen's Guard towards the castle.

Alone with her father, Vaelyssa felt a surge of pride mingled with a touch of vulnerability as Daemon gently took her face in his hands and turned her head to the side to see the various love bites that graced her skin.

"Well done-” muttered Daemon, his voice gruff yet tinged with unmistakable approval.

Vaelyssa smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude at his words. "I learned from the best,"