#seven realms spoilers

[helaenas-queen]

Aegon trying to broke the circle of abuse that his father did with him and his siblings, by being a better dad to jaehaerys and jaehaera and also being a king that worries about the small folk is everything that's right

[zeldriszezinho]

Okay, first of all: Zeldris. You’re looking as handsome as the day I met you.

And also embracing the silly chibi face your brother is famous for. It runs in the family.

Speaking of which, Gelda. She looks so beautiful currently.

And last but not least: “Demons… Assemble!” Wonder how exactly Percy is their savior, it might be something else than just the prophecy right? Who knows…

Overall, amazing, funny and wholesome chapter. I love this clan so much.

[theivesbustamate]

Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced..

[howuart]

IS THAT SEVEN?!?!

[felassan]

New Details on DA4 from this IGN article: "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf Is Officially Being Renamed, With Gameplay Reveal Set for June 11 - EXCLUSIVE"

"BioWare confirmed that The Veilguard will feature seven playable party members, and that it will feature “fun and fluid, moment-to-moment combat” while continuing to center strategy via the unique powers of each companion.

BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.”

“One thing that’s important to remind fans is that every Dragon Age game is a new and different experience and this game, more so than ever, is about you and your companions – a group that you must rally to fight by your side,” McKay tells IGN. “We can’t wait for players to meet, connect and form their own personal relationships with the unique companions that make up The Veilguard. That’s the spirit of this game…of this story. Choosing who will join you on your adventure, fight alongside you, and be there by your side in the end.”

McKay claims that the name change wasn’t a matter of focus testing, which commonly informs decisions like these. He even goes so far as to admit that sticking with Dreadwolf might have been easier.

“We actually think sticking with Dreadwolf would have been the safer choice – ‘Dread Wolf’ is a cool name after all!” McKay says. “In the end, it was most important for us to have a title that was authentic to the companions that are the heart of this adventure we’ve created. We’ve worked throughout development to create really incredible backstories for each companion that intersect with the main narrative in meaningful ways.”

As for why it’s not simply named “Dragon Age IV,” McKay says it’s for the same reason that Dragon Age Inquisition wasn’t called “Dragon Age III: Inquisition.”

“Every game in the series tells its own unique story and the title is an important element to help set the stage for the next standalone adventure inclusive of its own hero, companions, narrative arc, villain, setting, etc,” he says.

Asked what it means for BioWare to finally be able to show The Veilguard to the world, McKay said, “As the studio head and executive producer, it’s been incredible to see the journey, resilience and passion that this team continues to bring every day. We have an incredible group of both BioWare and Dragon Age veterans who have been with us for years, as well as new faces and voices that love the series who have helped to create an unforgettable experience we feel will be worthy of the Dragon Age name.”

So who exactly are the Veilguard? In the lore, the Veil is a barrier between the physical world and Fade, which is Dragon Age’s spirit realm. Solas, who helped create the Veil, now wants to destroy it. Hence, as McKay puts it, “the Veil needs guarding.”

While acknowledging that the why and the how is definitely spoiler territory, McKay says, “The biggest clue I can share is that you and your companions – that make up The Veilguard – are central to taking down a new evil threat unleashed upon Thedas. It might not just be Solas.”

McKay isn’t quite ready to reveal the party members quite yet, but does provide some hints on what to expect, including some initial info on romances.

“We spent a lot of time making our companions feel authentic based on their own unique experiences within this larger fantasy world, which in turn makes the relationships you form with them feel even more meaningful. We’ve tapped into Dragon Age’s deep lore and explored its most iconic factions to bring each of the seven companions and their stories to life,” he says.

“I won’t spoil next week’s reveal but I can say we’ve created a story where you can impact the world and the companions that surround you. Player agency is important to the Dragon Age: The Veilguard experience and allows each player to form unique personal connections with their companions of choice. And, yes, you can romance the companions you want!”

McKay says the decision to pare the number of companions from nine to seven is mostly down to it being the “right number for the story we’re telling.” Each one is intended to represent a unique faction or element from Thedas, and will feature their own arc with “stories of love and loss, each with meaningful choices and emotional moments.”

He continues, “As you accompany your companions to unravel their backstory and earn their loyalty and friendship, you’ll visit more regions of Thedas across a deeper variety of biomes than any Dragon Age before it.”

McKay mostly sidesteps questions of how Inquisition’s characters might fit into The Veilguard’s story, though he does confirm that it will once again feature an original protagonist similar to The Warden, Hawke, and The Inquisitor, noting that each Dragon Game has its own standalone story with its own thread and conflict.

“Games across the Dragon Age franchise are never designed as a game-over-game continuous storyline. There are familiar arcs, factions and heroes important to the overarching Dragon Age universe that weave through the new story we’re telling,” he explains. “The previous games, characters and events aren’t the anchor of Dragon Age: The Veilguard it’s about your adventure with a brand new cast of companions that you must rally to fight against a powerful force.”

He once again teases another villain beyond Solas: “I don’t want to get too deep into spoiler territory but I can say that the Dread Wolf is not the only god players need to be worried about.”

When The Veilguard is finally revealed on June 11, BioWare’s presentation will include 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game, which will help set up the story. On the gameplay front, McKay says that The Veilguard’s combat was a “big area of focus” and something the team wanted to push forward. Among other things, McKay says that The Veilguard will feature an ability wheel designed to give players more direct control over their characters.

“As an RPG, strategy in combat is important as you bring two companions to every fight. Each companion brings unique powers and abilities that have a direct impact on how you choose to take down the enemies at hand,” he says. “To add another layer to that strategic element, we’re introducing a new ability wheel where you can pause the action and set up your next move – whether it’s your companions’ abilities or your own.

“The ability wheel opens up a huge amount of strategic possibilities, giving players the ability to control the flow of combat and link powerful combinations of abilities between players and their companions that can quickly turn the tide of any battle. We think we’ve found an exciting balance between fun, fluidity and strategy for every encounter.”

“This is a game and experience that continues BioWare’s tradition of single player RPG storytelling set in the epic fantasy world of Thedas,” McKay says. “We know Dragon Age fans and the community have been waiting a long time for the next game and we could not be more excited to share our gameplay reveal on June 11.""

[source] (emphasis mine)

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Heart of Ice

Chapter 10 of Moonlight

A/N- I was giggling and kicking my feet tehehe ;)

Warning- some swearing, talks of miscarriage and death, ANGST!, FLUFF, mild NFSW, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There it is, standing so tall that it looks like it’s touching the sky. It’s mesmerizing no matter how many times you’ve seen it, and it never fails to steal your breath.

Yet the wall is at its prettiest when it weeps when the sun hits it just as it rises from the ground. Right now all it does is bring forth an icier chill as the wind blows, making you hold onto your cloak for warmth.

You can only imagine how Jacaerys is fairing, this is his first time at Castle Black.

“How are you holding up?” You make sure to ask your brother as his eyes stay stuck on the towering wall.

“My balls are about to freeze off,” he makes no effort to talk properly in front of you, nor do you remind him to.

You smile at him and look at him with a soft endearment only reserved for those you deeply cherish. “It will be worth it, I promise. I cannot wait for you to see it,” you muse and cup his shoulder.

Jacaerys finally takes his eyes off the wall and meets your gaze with such a warm smile that it’s capable of melting the thickest sheets of ice.

“It better live up to everything you have said,” he remarks lightheartedly, making you drop your head to laugh softly at the ground.

“It will pass your expectations,” Cregan interjects as he finally rejoins you and leads the way to the lift that looks a bit unreliable, but all the people at Castle Black use it, and you have survived after using it so, you walk in. Slowly of course, and you don’t dare pay too much attention to the sounds it makes as it starts moving Jacaerys, Cregan, and you to the top.

“You know,” you take the attention of the rackety noise. “Perhaps one day I will send one of my children over here to take up a role as guardian of the wall.”

“Is that so?” Cregan probes.

“One of your seven?” Jacaerys jokes and you laugh softly but don’t take back what you said, catching him by some surprise.

“It’s a rare thing for a Targaryen or Velaryon to come be a brother of the Night's Watch,” you explain your thought process to the curious men. “But we are the families the people look up to. I mean I understand the sacrifice, but I believe that for us to have a good relation with the North, and for us to protect our realm against what may be out there, we too should be here with a dragon or two.”

Cregan briefly meets your gaze and hides well those emotions you stir up inside since your brother is standing at his other side, but he doesn’t stay quiet, he takes a deep breath before he parts his lips.

“You are right, the sacrifice one must commit is great, but duty is sacrifice,” Cregan begins to say. “It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price. The North owes a great duty to the Seven Kingdoms, one older than any oath. Since the day of the first men, we have stood as guardians against the cold and the dark. Through its long tradition, the Night's Watch cultivated its strength from doomed men who had their life as their only possession. But my ancestor, Torrhen Stark began a tradition by making an offering at the onset of winter; one in 10 men from our household was to be chosen to fortify the Watch. This is not a sentence but an honor. A duty embraced by all who serve the North. Even by mine own kin. Thus I respect your decision, My Princess.”

He talks so well that even these long comments captivate you, and that’s hard to do because you get so easily bored.

“The North must stand ready,” Cregan adds without losing a breath. “Winter is coming.”

“Coming?” Jacaerys interjects. “What is this, then, that falls from the skies and shivers my bones?”

You roll your eyes away and scoff softly.

He thinks he’s so funny.

“This is only a late summer snow, my prince,” Cregan says something he’s already mentioned once before. “In winter, it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten.”

You look through the gaps on the wooden walls but the lift then shakes so you step back and stand closer to Cregan.

“It pleases me to think that over a century ago our ancestors treated in this very place,” Jacaerys mentions with a lighthearted look on his face. “The Conqueror and the King in the North.”

You can’t help but smile at the thought and the history the Starks share with your ancestors. It’s so bittersweet. But it’s all so corny of Jacaerys to say, he sounds just as infatuated as you.

You would tease him, but now doesn’t seem like the time so you just smile wider to yourself.

Cregan’s gaze wanders to you after your brother's words, and you share some of that sweetness with him because regardless of it all, you are happy Jacaerys expressed his fondness for Cregan.

And when Cregan does see your smile some of that hardened demeanor melts.

“You, at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon,” Cregan quips at your brother jokingly, leaving him silent until he queries.

“Did my sister threaten you with her dragon?”

Does he think of you as some wild beast or something?

Regardless, Cregan's eyes soften before he shakes his head and tells him what you did do. “No, but she did threaten to go over the wall and escape when she first got to Winterfell six years ago.” He says and tilts his head over to you, but you look out the window and shake your head.

“I was having a hard time adjusting,” you remind him. “And I did not end up going over the wall.”

“No,” he mutters softer as if speaking with admiration. “You did not.”

You lift your eyes off the icy wall and let yourself meet and hold his gaze with a soft look just until the lift finally lands on the top because when it comes to a sudden halt the wooden lift shakes, and you’re reminded why you hate coming to the top this way—You almost reach out to Cregan to keep yourself balanced and safe, but you stop yourself and just stand stiffly until finally he opens the door for you and your brother, letting you feel like you can breathe again when you’re on stable ground.

“My Prince, My Princess,” one of the brothers greets you while you slip your arm around your brothers to hold onto more warmth as the coldness nips at your skin.

“My Lord.”

“My Lord,” other brothers greet Cregan while he walks after you until finally he catches up and leads you to one side.

“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would’ve sooner died than bent the knee,” you chose to return to the previous topic as you watch Jacaerys’ eyes fall on every single detail you pass by. “Unless he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Cregan nods. “You are right in that,” he agrees.

“That unity is now threatened,” Jacaerys goes on for you with another clever workaround to the subject at hand. “The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oaths sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir.”

Again you can’t help but be proud of the way he speaks. But you also know this second attempt won’t mend Cregan Stark’s choice.

“Stark’s do not forget their oaths, my Prince,” Cregan reminds him proudly. “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South.”

Jacaerys glances over at you with discreet disappointment, and you press him an, ‘I told you so’ look right back.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing,” Cregan strengthens his argument. “I need my men here.”

You swallow thickly as you come to a halt just under a post, and Jacaerys turns you around with him to pass Cregan a hard look that furrows his eyebrows. “Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne,” he remarks.

You grip onto him as a warning for him to calm down, but he doesn’t understand.

“If my mother is to defend her claim,” Jacaerys presses while Cregan guides all of you up the stairs. “To hold the realm united she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North…” Jacaerys trails off when he reaches the top and finally sees with his own eyes the never-ending land beyond the wall, the beauty that you promised, and what you could never fully describe in words.

He moves toward the end of the post and you let your arm slip off his to let him admire for himself the beauty and the mystery that is the North, and the freedom it holds in its cold wilderness.

You can now honestly say you know the pride Cregan felt when he first brought you up here because you feel it. You are not from here, but seeing your brother be so captivated by what’s beyond the wall makes you fill with excitement that you can’t put into words, you can just express it with admiration and awe in your eyes.

Cregan notices and admires you while your brother's attention is far away, and to his surprise, you feel his stare and return his soft gaze while you also let your gloved knuckles brush against each other as you let yourself be swooped up once again by the comfort you have been fighting to feel.

Yet you don’t let yourself get completely carried away, nor do you cross the line by letting your fingers touch, you keep your smile and join your brother's side.

“Was it everything you expected?” You ask before you’re brought back to the cruel reality.

Jacaerys laughs softly and nods. “It was everything you said and more…it feels like I could stay here and admire this forever.”

“It would get cold,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“It would be pleasant,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement and dread returning to the sore subject, but you will lose yourself.

“I brought your sister, and my father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall,” Cregan finally rejoins your company. “His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons the greatest power in the world, refused to cross it.”

Jacaerys snaps his head to you and probes for more. “Even adventurous Astraea?”

You look out and nod. “Yes. She perches herself on the wall but never once does she fly over, nor does she dare fly over just to turn. I tried to command her to cross but she disobeyed me,” you back up Cregan's argument and feel a chill crawl down your spine at the reminder.

“Do you think my ancestors built a 700-hundred-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?” Cregan presses your brother in a colder tone that almost works to frighten you.

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan leans in closer to your brother and speaks one word. “Death.”

You swallow back nervously and share your uneasiness with your brother with a simple look that actually helps him let go of some of that tension and ignorance he held.

“I have thousands of graybeards,” Cregan finally offers and breaks the speechless moment between Jacaerys and you. “Who've already seen too many winters. They are well-honed.”

You loll your head to the side and snicker, while Jacaerys says what you were thinking. “So they’re old?”

“I can ready them to march at once,” Cregan assures him and you.

Jacaerys breathes out and accepts the offer. “If your graybeards can fight, the Queen will have them.”

“They will fight hard,” Cregan states with a hint of pride and some faint smugness. “Like Northerners.”

You glance over at him and catch that smugness on his usually serious face and you can’t help your heart from skipping a beat when he glances at you with the same look.

“My Lord,” a man calls for Cregan’s attention, making his face fall hard once again. “A ravens arrived.”

The man approaches the post breathing hard as if in a hurry and hands Cregan a scroll. “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” he announces, making you understand his urgency, and causing you to fall serious and nervous yourself.

But if it is bad news wouldn't it be sent directly to Jacaerys and you?

Maybe?

Unless—

You can’t let yourself think the worst, but you still share your worry with your brother before you watch Cregan unravel the scroll to read what the news is.

He doesn’t take long to read, but it feels like he is reading for eternity in the waiting silence until finally he puts the scroll down and meets your gaze. This time when you lock eyes your heart skips a beat out of worry instead of awe, this time a smugness doesn’t play in his eyes or tug the corner of his lips up, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched like when he makes his face hard, but you can read him clear as day as you simply hold his gaze.

You can see the pity pulling his lips down, and a soft apologetic look in his grey eyes that makes them appear darker. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that what he read wasn’t a simple warning or a call home, they’re dark words that he almost but says.

You want to ask, he knows that, he sees your worry heighten in your furrowed brows and parted lips, so with a simple blink his face softens as he gives you sorrow, making your eyes immediately cloud with tears. While in the back, Jacaerys sees it, your shared past. He figures it out in the exchange that is far more complex than one friends should share, but it all makes sense now.

Your friendship always slightly caught his attention, it bugged him in some way. Not because he felt bad for Aemond that you were so sweet on another man, but all your interactions were always weird he just didn’t figure out why until this very moment as Cregan fails to look over at him after what he read, as he watches this speechless interaction and sees the deep aching softness on the Lord's face and a deep set heartache in your eyes.

He had only seen such a speechless complexity in his mother and Ser Harwin. He was too young to realize it then but as he got older he understood what happened around him, and doesn’t fail to understand now.

Yet as much as he wants to give into this anger he feels boil within him at the thought of Lord Stark taking advantage of you in your five years in Winterfell, the news that awaits him helps him stay collected. Thus he steps forward without causing a scene and finally, Lord Stark drives all the attention to him, letting him finally receive the scroll, and leave you waiting longer without focusing on Cregan any longer. Now you turn to face your brother as he reads what was sent.

Once again it feels like what was written is getting read at an infuriatingly slow pace, but now you’re not impatient to know. You’re scared to know or read Jacaerys' face now. But you keep your eyes on your brother and watch his jaw unclench and his lips part to let out a soft gasp, while his once steady hands begin to tremble, and his eyes…water.

“Jacaerys,” you almost plead his name out.

That anger he had at the waiting completely disappears and he slowly looks up at you with a loud and heartbreaking sorrow.

“Jace,” you mewl.

Said man licks his lips and sniffles before he grabs your arm and gently pulls you aside.

“Listen to me,” his voice quivers and only makes your heart race faster than it’s already beating.

“Is it…” you trail off to catch your breath. “A-Aerion?”

Jacaerys shakes his head and keeps in those tears that fill his eyes. “No, Aerion is fine,” he assures you but you don’t feel relieved.

“What?” You beg for an answer and reach for his hands, but he lifts them and tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“When,” he says shakily. “Lucerys was in StormsEnd, Aemond…”

You start to shake your head and his bottom lip trembles.

“Aemond killed Lucerys,” Jacaerys finally reveals quietly.

A cold breeze hits you and all that you had been feeling gets lost in the wind, leaving you numb.

Jacaerys calls your name but you stare ahead blankly. Theres nothing that crosses your mind, there’s nothing you feel that makes you react. You know it’s heavy and painful news, you knew they were dark words when Cregan told you speechlessly, but you can’t accept the truth that’s given. You don’t want to, you can’t because if you do then it means you will accept that your husband, the man you love…did what was written, and you don’t want to accept that.

However, Jacaerys calls out for you again and this time he grabs your arms and steals your attention, forcing you to once again connect to what you refused to feel.

“No,” you blurt and push him back. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

Jacaerys shows you the scroll as he gets close again. “You can read it yourself. It’s the truth, Lucerys…he’s,” he strains to say. “He’s…dead.”

Your heart drops and a flood of emotions rams through you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and making your legs weak.

Jacaerys grabs your arms and holds you up before you can fall and pulls you to him, letting you see how red his eyes are, and how drowned they are with tears he’s holding back.

“Jace,” you mewl and cover your mouth to sob.

Your brother nods in understanding without you having to express the rest of your sorrow. “I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“Oh gods,” you gasp and drop your head while grabbing at your chest as you can’t seem to catch a breath. You can’t breathe. There’s so much air where you are, it’s so crisp but you can’t manage to take in any which in return only lets you feel the pounding of your heart, the rushing of your blood, and a rush of memories of your little brother Lucerys.

All you can think about is Lucerys, you imagine his last moments, and with every memory and every fake scenario the more you fail to grasp for air.

In the distance, Cregan watches how you’re breaking down, but no matter how much he wants to, he has to stay put even if it hurts not being able to help you when you need him the most. He does get close to trying something small since you are in so much pain trying to breathe, and your brother seems a bit lost on how to help you, but Jacaesys then does the first thing he thinks of and pulls you into an embrace.

Thankfully right away, at the feeling of your brother's weight, and at the feeling of his warmth, all those rushing memories slowly disappear, letting you draw in a deep breath. You pull him closer and bury your head in the crook of his neck whilst you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, and push his head down to let him bury his face on your shoulder so he can express everything he refuses to show to the public.

When he clutches onto the back of your cloak your heart comes to a slow pace, but it doesn’t stop weeping. With every ba-dum, you feel an aching pain in your chest that doesn’t go away.

Eventually, after a short time, Jacaerys pulls back and gives his back to Cregan to wipe away his tears before facing him with a sorrow that isn’t able to wipe off. “We need to go, my Lord. You’ll have to forgive us for not accompanying you back to Winterfell, but with our dragons here we need to make haste to return to Dragonstone.”

You grab at your chest and gently caress it as if that would cure you’re heartache while Jacaerys shares something you agree to without the need for a discussion.

Albeit Cregan is the one who protests. “It will get dark soon, why do you not wait until first light to take flight? Wait until you both have collected yourselves so you don't do anything rash in the heat of the moment.”

You shake your head and interject in a broken voice. “The storm won’t pass, Lord Stark. We’ll just face it head-on and leave, our mother needs us.”

Cregan steps forward, gaining a brief glance from you. “Just eat, and rest…I know the pain of losing a brother, I understand your grief, my heart is with you,” he tries to relate so you would listen. “I have lost many others too, I know the anger, please just let yourselves calm down before you return home. I will stay with you here.”

You know your brother too, you know how angry he can get. You know that once your grief really settles you’ll also start thinking of what happened and you’ll get upset too. Thus you don’t hurry to answer, you look at your brother and he looks at you. And without a word, you come to the same conclusion.

“All right,” Jacaerys says for the both of you. “We will stay, but leave at first light. Thank you, my Lord.”

——

*LATER*

Nothing makes sense.

Why? How?

Those questions are what runs around and around in your head accompanied by different terrifying scenarios that could’ve led to the act. A lot of it points to an accident, you want to believe in your heart of hearts that what…Aemond did was an accident. You don’t want to believe that this remorse got the best of him, he’s supposed to be better, he’s supposed to keep it in for your sake.

He knows how much you love your brothers, he knows he can hate them all he wants, but he can’t hurt them. And yes! You know that war was going to happen no matter what, and violence was going to be dragged in between your families, but Aemond went out of his way to…kill Lucerys when all he was was an envoy.

He killed your brother. Your husband killed your brother, and in turn, betrayed you in the worst way possible. He tore your heart out, and what hurts more is that he hasn’t said what he did in the multiple ravens he’s sent! Just like always, he never tells you a thing!

What are you supposed to believe, but the worst? You want to believe he’s good behind all that hard demeanor, you defend him against your family when they say something bad because you want to believe he has a good heart, but what does killing Lucerys prove? That you’ve been wrong all along?

Gods!

Damn it! Why did he have to do it? Why did he take Lucerys?

A knock raps on your door, but you’re so drowned in your heartache that you don’t hear the sound. It’s not until you hear your name being called out softly behind that door that you almost wake up from your stupor.

“It is I, Cregan,” he announces without the need to, you knew who he was the moment he uttered the first word. “Can I talk to you? You didn’t come for supper.”

You blink repeatedly to relieve the dry spell in your eyes after not blinking for a few seconds and clutch onto the ring you were fiddling with before you get up and unlock the door. You don’t proceed to say anything, you walk away from the door and stand against the fireplace, but Cregan takes the unlocked door as an invitation and walks in, finding your food untouched, you in your nightgown, and your head down.

“I came to check on you,” he says softly as if careful not to hurt you even more with his voice. When he gets no response or even a small breath, he walks in further and notices now how unkempt you are; you’re usually so precise with the way you keep yourself, you always look so clean and tidy, it was only in the morning when you first woke up that he would catch you off guard, but now it’s like you don’t care how you look.

“I hope you are not going to bed with your hair down like that,” he tries to be lighthearted. “You hate having your hair tangled in the morning.”

He waits for a reaction, a soft ‘oh’, but you stay quiet and it just deepens his concern.

“Darling,” he uses your pet name and you finally break from your stupor and turn partially to face him.

He expected a sweet look just out of instinct, but those usually wonder-filled eyes are clouded by agony and tears that can’t even fall down your cheeks anymore; while the fires fierce light brings clarity to your deep set frown, knitted brows, and puffy face worn out from crying.

“Here,” he breathes out and catches a gleam coming from in between your fingers. When he fills his curiosity he notices that the firelight is dancing on a sapphire ring you cannot stop fiddling with in between your fingers; a ring he had not seen you take off once since he saw you. Which must mean your husband gave it to you.

He doesn’t want to ask for many reasons, so he approaches you from behind and gently starts braiding your hair in silence you cannot seem to fill. It’s almost like there was no one inside your body, you were a hollow body left soulless.

“I understand why you locked your door,” he mentions in hopes that would get him a simple reaction. “However, it does not seem necessary, your dragons are restless and it stirs up fear in the brothers. And I am here as well.”

Your back raises as you draw in a deep breath, but rather than filling the silence with a dry response, or some remark, you just breathe out, making him steal a glance at the side of your face that he can see from behind you, before he pulls out the leather strip that keeps half of his hair out of his face to keep your own braid in place instead. He then proceeds to shuffle to your side to grab your arm.

“Sit down, Princess.” He commands softly.

You don’t fight him, you let him guide you down to your seat, and once he’s feeding the fire more wood your hoarse voice finally fills the room.

“I should have gone back to King's Landing…A—He sent me a raven the day after when my grandsire the King died. He didn’t tell me of course, but he told me to go back…I should have listened, I…” you pause to catch your breath. “Maybe then Lucerys…” you trail off and whimper whilst you drop your head in your hands.

Cregan leaves the last piece of wood in the fire and then wipes his hands on his shirt while he stands up to close the gap between you.

“Don't,” he says firmly and crouches down in front of you to grab your hands and pull them down so you can meet his gaze. “Do not blame yourself for your brother's death. What happened is not your fault to carry. What happened is dealt with, don’t dwell on things that can no longer happen.”

You hold his gaze while you process his words for a second and then look down at the ring you still hold.

“I’m sorry,” he says sorrowful words that bring your heart some comfort, but also make your body tremble while those tears that you once couldn’t muster, come rushing down your already stained cheeks.

Nothing else is spoken, and nothing is asked of either of you, but out of instinct your arms slip around his neck, and he returns the embrace and follows you to your feet where he keeps holding you and lets you cry on his shoulder; for hours? For a few seconds? You don’t know, you dwell in his comfort that you missed and relish in it until you stop crying.

He probably should have been the one to pull away, but he doesn’t complain, not once. He lets you pull back on your own time, and even then he grabs your arms to keep you close so he can cup your cheeks and caress them for a final piece of comfort to your aching heart.

Yet that proves to be a mistake because as you linger in his proximity, your eyes fall on his lips and you’re overwhelmed with a passion-filled heat that pushes your lips against his.

At first, Cregan is so stunned by the warmth of your lips on his, and then he’s taken by the excitement of feeling your lips reconnecting that he closes his eyes and kisses you back, but when his lust begins to rush through his blood he pulls back and groans.

“No,” he shakes his head and slides his hands down your face to grab your shoulders, leaving a burning trail down your skin. “You are married. No matter what happened you are still married, and you’re grieving.”

You want to forget your pain for a moment and be consumed by the comfort, bliss, and excitement he provides, but he’s also right. And how can you do that to Aemond…

But…

Maybe you don’t care if it hurts him because he hurt you. He won’t know either way—But you will know, you will know that it’s something that can hurt him, and you…don’t care. But Cregan…is right.

“I’m sorry,” you throw out and step away from him, feeling a chill hit those parts of you that he kept warm with his touch—“you are right. I’m sorry.”

Cregan turns away and swallows back thickly, feeling somewhat disappointed that he has to turn down this heat of the moment. “Perhaps I shall bid you a goodnight now.”

You swallow back to hide your disappointed sigh and nod. “Yes, goodnight Cregan.”

Said man avoids looking at you when he turns. It makes it easier to walk away from you. But when his hand touches the door handle he doesn’t turn it to open it, he stands there frozen with his back turned to you as he feels his honor start to slip.

He turns his head but doesn’t peek over right away, he fights himself but quickly falters when he feels the ghost of your wet lips haunting his. And when he fully looks back and sees the shadow of your sculpted figure in your white nightgown his inner battle is lost. He only proves his loss by locking the door and turning completely to face you, turning around as well.

“Cregan?” You query, puzzled by his presence.

Said man draws out a deep breath before he strides back to you with determination in his step and surprises you by grabbing your face the moment he can. You want to utter his name, but a small gasp is all that goes past your lips whilst you drop the ring that Aemond had gifted you.

“I pride myself in my honor,” he says while his eyes flicker between your parted lips and your shocked gaze. “But when it comes to you it’s turned to ash, nothing stops me from wanting you, from…” he trails off and leans forward, but you don’t allow your lips to touch. You shift your head away, but he follows you to keep your breaths unfurling over each other's lips.

“…desiring you in every way a gentleman shouldn’t. I burn for you when you’re far, and even when I dream of you. It is wrong.” He nods, and you nod too without much effort. “But you are my weakness, you have always been my weakness. You’re my joy, the reason I laugh, and also the reason I don’t march to King's Landing and bring you to Winterfell to make you mine,” he whispers against your lips, making a smile make an appearance on your saddened face.

“Tell me this is wrong, tell me to leave now,” he tells you and drags his eyes up to meet yours so you can know he’s being serious. “And I will. I will leave your chambers and when morning comes I’ll bid you farewell with no remorse and as nothing more than friends.”

As if being hypnotized to his lips you lean forward, but only let your lips brush, leaving your heart pounding as it screams for you to connect.

“I still have to leave,” you make it known while you gently cup his jaw to touch some part of him. “I have to return to Dragonstone no matter what.”

Cregan’s eyebrows pinch together and he hesitates before he nods. “I understand,” he mutters and glances at your lips again. “But that doesn’t change a thing if you tell me to leave.”

You should. You're still married even if Aemond betrayed you by killing your brother. And deep deep down a lot of your conflict comes because you don’t know if you did stop loving the man who killed your brother, but that reason is also why you want to give in to your deepest burning desire.

That reason is why you’re selfish and don’t resist Cregan or stop your heart from swooning at his confession.

“Don’t leave,” is all he needs to hear to smile widely before he finally feeds your desire by kissing you slowly, fueling that passionate heat that completely takes over your body, and leaving you still and breathless for a moment as you relish in the sweet taste of his soft lips melting with yours, guiding your every movement, and driving you mad with lust.

You had forgotten this dream-like feeling, you had forgotten how fast he makes your heart race when he’s kissing you, and you forgot how hot you burn when his fingers explore the perimeters of your body. Furthermore, you forgot how eager he can get until you feel his grip on the back of your gown.

You pull away quickly and protest. “No, no, wait, do not rip it.”

Cregan fingers loosen and you start to giggle. “Why do you always want to rip my gowns?” You bring up, making his lips lift to a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between heavy breaths.

You press a kiss on his lips and then tell him, “gently.”

He breathes out deeply and nods once before he slides his fingers back to the ribbon tying your gown together, and slowly begins to untie it while you drift your lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, and then kiss his jaw before you graze your lips up and kiss the corner of his jaw.

Cregan lets out a groan from the back of his throat, making you feel chills grow on your skin.

“I hate all these layers,” he musters while you continue to leave a trail of kisses down to his neck. “They are so infuriating.”

You smile against his neck, causing you to feel his nails dig in your skin.

“It keeps me warm,” you tell him and lick a stripe up to his lips. “Your North is cold, my Lord.”

Cregan clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “A little less with your presence,” he completely wins you over, making you grin and look at him in awe.

“I missed you,” he finally lets himself confess to you. “My darling love.”

You sigh and whisper back. “I missed you too.”

His eyes gleam brighter and that short absence is filled once again with your lips while he finally slips off your gown, leaving you under a simple sheer gown that he slips off with ease.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with awe, and his eyes dark with lust.

“It’s no fair,” you argue between kisses and slowly drag your hands down to help him pull off his layers. “And you say I wear a lot of layers,” you comment, making him scoff.

You finally end up pulling the last one off and throw it to the side mindlessly as you’re captivated by his toned torso and those thick arms that he unfairly hides under all those garments.

“Kiss me,” you command in a voice oozing with honey.

“Gladly,” is all he says before capturing your face to smash his lips on yours and this time make out more roughly as he’s filled with a much more hungry need.

Your own need lets you multitask by unbuckling his pants and tugging on them so he can pull them off in the brief pause you have between devouring each other. Yet when his member is out for you to see, you take a moment to admire how girthy and hard it is, and how perfect every vein is on his length.

You can’t help but start to go on your knees, but he grabs your bicep and pulls you back up to drift you away from that need.

“No,” he says out of breath and instead wraps his arms around you, and presses his lips on your neck to start leaving wet kisses on your flesh while he also slides his hands down your body, making you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands caressing you gently.

Without lifting his mouth off your neck he drifts his hand behind your knee, and with no explanation, he pulls your leg up to help you climb up and wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you back to the edge of the bed, and gently put you down.

Once you’re lying on your back he pulls back but leans down to press his hands beside your head, and simply hold your gaze with this endearing look that makes his eyes smile.

“I'm going inside you,” he warns you, making you shiver and swallow thickly as you already imagine the stretch. “You need to be quiet.”

You part your lips but utter nothing, instead, you lift your head and he responds by giving you what you wanted, a deep kiss, while he grabs his length and aligns himself with your hole. When his tip touches you you gasp and he grins before taking your lips again to distract you while he slowly penetrates you.

Albeit the stretch is so wonderful and filling that you claw your nails on his back and scratch his back as he keeps going in deeper. Once all the way inside he finally pulls his face back to whisper. “You were made for me. You belong with me.”

You don’t respond with words, you cup his cheeks and brush strands of his hair behind his ears before you slide your hand to the back of his neck to gently pull him down. “Cregan make me yours,” you finally fill the silence, feeling as if his cock hardens even more before he finally starts moving his hips, filling you with a blinding ecstasy that heightens this passionate moment, and makes you only think about him and the pleasure he feels and gives you. You forget your sorrows and the grudge. You forget the war and the responsibilities you have.

You’re selfish in the lust-filled night and remain ignorant even before it's time to get out of bed. You just relish in Cregan's presence for a bit longer.

“Cregan…” you whisper, and the man hums in response letting you sigh before you share what’s been bothering you. “I do not like that I am the reason you disregard your honor. I do not like putting you through that.”

The hand on your back stops moving and a small huff rolls out of his nose. “I think it’s late to start thinking about that.”

You blink repeatedly with discontent and abruptly sit up to face him. “I am not jesting,” you press sharply. “I’m being serious. You hold your honor in high regard, I hate to be the one who makes it falter.”

A faint smile tugs on his lips without regard to your comment before he leans forward and assures you. “I have my honor, I never forget it, but I love you more. I’m being selfish without disregarding everything to be it. I know how to hold myself back,” he says firmly and cups your cheek to bring you closer to him. “I know where I stand, I am just choosing to have a taste of happiness. You, my darling, are my happiness.”

Your eyes water and your heart swoons, there’s nothing you can say that would measure up to the kind things he just said, all you can do is press a lingering kiss on his warm lips before you lay your head down on his chest, and hold onto him like he’s your security blanket.

“I…could offer you and your Aerion refuge here,” he offers and makes your pounding heart hurt.”

“Here? In Castle Black?” You tease without sounding too amused.

Cregan scoffs and starts to caress your arm. “Not here. In Winterfell,” he clarifies without a hint of falter at the mention of your son who is fathered by someone else who does bring him pangs of jealousy every time he remembers you’re married, and when he hears his name. “I would make sure no one could touch you and your boy there. He wouldn’t have to grow up around so much violence and you would not have to worry.”

You tilt your head down to kiss his shoulder before you give his offer an answer. “It's a nice offer, but my place is not hiding in a cage like some frightened bird. My place is out there, with my mother, with my brother, and the rest of my family fighting with the dragon I have. My mother needs me and I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Cregan doesn’t interject with anything, his chest rises and slowly falls back down, letting you know your response slightly wounded him.

“Instead of having her husband with her when she lost my sister,” you begin to say quieter but filled with frustration. “Daemon was out leading her council. I was the one who held her when she cradled my sister's lifeless body. I…have to be there for her now.”

“I understand,” he doesn’t falter to assure you. “But you must know if you ever find yourself needing somewhere to go, Winterfell is yours. You and your son are welcome.”

You lift your head off him to face him in the little space left between you. “I will always remember that. Thank you,” you say from the bottom of your heart.

A smile twitches on his serious face, and he proceeds to press a feathered kiss on your lips before he grins and says. “Sing for me? Just for me.”

You giggle and gently smack his shoulder. “No,” you answer bluntly and lay back down basically on him.

“Why not?” He chuckles. “It's not like you have to fear enchanting me with your song, you already have.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. Anyway!” You change the subject. “I was supposed to stop writing to you. I had already planned it.”

Cregan sighs and his chin rests on the top of your head. “I know,” he mutters. “You stopped writing as much as you would recently.”

Your smile falls but you grow desperate and hopeful. “But…you will answer me when I write to you in the weeks to come, right?”

He shrugs and interjects. “If that’s what you want, I will.”

You nod softly. “I do.”

You lift yourself up again to face him so he knows you’re being sincere. “I do.”

He grabs your cheek and his eyes soften. “Are you frightened?” He makes sure to ask.

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “No. Nervous, but not scared.”

He smirks and slides his hand down to caress your chin. “That’s my girl. You know how to fight, use that.” He tells you.

You laugh nervously. “I’ve never had to actually use my skill for violence.”

Your swordsmanship and your skills with archery were never for the intent of being some warrior, you like the idea of being like Queen Visenya Targaryen, and Princess Alyssa, but mostly your need to be trained with a sword and with archery was because you took it as a challenge. They said you couldn’t have it and you challenged them. Thus now that you’re having to face this war and the potential of having to use your skill, you’re honestly quite nervous.

You’ve never admitted that. You don’t want to admit it to anyone but him so they don't feel like you aren’t reliable.

“It won’t be easy,” Cregan says the truth. “But when you face your enemy, do not hesitate. Think quickly but be smart and do not let them gain the upper hand. You have a dragon, use her, and you have skill, good skill. Use it.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in comprehension. He offers you a gentle smile and pulls you down to press his forehead against yours.

“You must know I will wait for you. Just a while longer.”

Asking what will happen after a while passes scares you, so you leave it be and just give him an honest response. “If fate ends up letting me choose, I will finally come home to you.”

He flashes you a charming smile that eases that worry in your heart and only works to sink you further down into this little escape.

“Now,” he coos against your lips. “Will you sing for me?”

You roll your eyes with a flattered smile featured on your face before you pull away to lay back on his chest and finally do as he asks of you as a parting gift where there aren't multiple people watching you, and pushing you down to hide or pretend that you’re nothing more than friends. You sing him a song for only him to hear before you take your leave and face reality once again.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

What good is actually facing reality? Facing a dead beloved brother, and the fact that it was someone who you loved that killed him?

Dragonstone is a painful reminder of what happened while you were away. Only now that pain in your heart is tenfold and you don’t think anyone can actually know the pain that plagues you. Who can truly understand what it is you carry? No one is married to the man who killed Lucerys. They can hate him with ease, but you?

You want to despise him, you fought yourself the entire flight back to Dragonstone to hate him and view him as another enemy, to view him like you view Aegon, but as much as you think you hate him, your heart fights hard to try and tell a different tale. And that’s what makes it worse.

Thus it's easier, it was almost healing, having an escape with Cregan, but now there’s no one who will silence your cries. And what makes matters worse is facing your heartbroken mother. You don’t like seeing her cry or be hurt, when she lost Visenya your pain could never equate to what she was feeling, but you hurt too with every groan, with all the blood that she spilled, and every sob. Now you’re moments away from her and your heart and soul are already shattering.

However, after you watch your dragon disappear into the caves with Vermax, and take a step inside the castle, a hand wraps around your forearm and you’re pulled into a dark dead end where there aren't prying eyes or nearby ears.

“<Tell me the truth,” Jacaerys spats in a whisper so no one would hear the sound of his words also protected by High Valyrian. “About you and Lord Stark.>”

You can’t help yourself, you blink repeatedly in disbelief and gape like a fish out of water.

“< There's no point in lying,” he only further surprises you. “I figured it out when he got the letter from Dragonstone. I would see it every time you would talk but I never pieced it together until yesterday. It all made sense then, the glances, what you would tell each other, and every story you told about him.>”

Tears fill your eyes and your heart echos in your ears as you’re struck with shame. Not for loving another man, but that Jacaerys found out.

“<He touched you?>” He proceeds to ask in your shocked silence.

And it’s in that silence where he figures out your unspoken response and finally lets go of your arm to turn away with a scoff.

“<He never forced himself on me,” you defend Cregan. “Everything we did was because we wanted it to happen. We love each other.>”

Jacaerys turns on his heels with frustration and clutches onto your arms to sneer. “<You saw how much mother suffered because she was with Ser Harwin. Did you not learn anything?>”

You know he’s remarking all that stuff to your face because he cares. He’s being thoughtful in his way but it doesn’t stop you from crying, and when you shed tears you hit a cord in your brother's heart and he lets go of you with a sigh.

“<If you weren’t already married I would turn back and force him, but alas,>,” he mutters and sighs again before turning and dropping his head in his hands.

“<He would’ve too,” you defend his honor. “But I did not want Aemond to hurt him with Vhagar. I choose not to marry him, please don’t blame him. He’s a good man.>”

Jacaerys shakes his head in disappointment and turns to face you with his eyes narrowed into a fierce glare and his lips curled in a snarl. “How am I not supposed to blame him?” He remarks in the common tongue. “He had his way with you and did not do what he was supposed to do! What an honorable man would do!”

“I told you already, I told him not to because of Aemond.”

Jacaerys grabs his face and rubs the bridge of his nose, so you continue to try and calm him down.

“He was always respectful and kind. And…” you pause and lick your lips before you utter the reality. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. There's no use in being upset, I am married and that won’t change even if I love him unless Aemond dies. So please,” you plead softer and step towards him to grab his arm so he can face you. “Please Jace, keep it a secret. No one must know. It’s in the past. Please don’t tell a soul.”

Jacaerys eyes snap to you and he clenches his jaw as he looks at you thoughtfully for a few agonizing moments before he sighs and whispers. “Fine. I will not tell anyone only because there’s nothing I can do now.”

You sigh with relief and wipe away your tears before you offer him a thankful smile and a sweeter comment. “Thank you so much. Thank you, Jace, really. I love you.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep breath and his face slowly lets that frustration go, and instead slowly falls to express a soft sorrow. You slide your hand down his arm to cup his hand and slowly mirror that grief as you remember what you lost and that pain you both now harbor.

No matter how hard you wish, there’s nothing in this world that can change what happened, no one can bring back your fallen brother. And what’s even crueler is that no matter how hopeful you were for the news to be a lie, you’re home now and that hope lies with Lucerys.

You both come to the same realization and speechlessly exchange it, bringing you both into each other's embrace to cry now without care.

And deep down you both want to stay close in just the way you are so neither of you run the risk of losing each other the way you lost Lucerys. It’s a foolish thought, but it’s one brought by grief, and a new fear set in both of your hearts because no matter how much you love your little brothers, nothing can compare to the bond the three of you had. A bond that now consists of Jacaerys and you. Just him and you.

“Jacaerys,” your moment is interrupted by a feminine voice that also speaks your name but does not belong to your mother. And when you both break away and look over you see Baela stand at the end of the hall with her hands clasped together and a pitiful look in her eyes.

“Baela,” you greet and wipe your tears away while Jacaerys turns to wipe his own tears away.

“Welcome back home,” she speaks sweetly.

You offer her a thankful nod before you walk over to her and meet her halfway with an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

You nod and then interject. “Thank you.” You pull back and glance around in search of her twin. “Where’s Rhaena?”

Baela sighs. “In her chambers.”

You wished to greet her just as you returned home, but now you’ll have to speak to her after you speak with your mother.

“And what about…” you trail off and hesitate. “What about my mother?”

Baela glances behind you as Jacaerys approaches you and then gives you the answer you wanted. “I’ll take you to her.”

You offer her a thankful smile and watch her walk to Jacaerys to wrap her arms around him and offer him sweeter condolences. When the moment passes she guides you to your mother and your heart begins to pound, while your stomach twists and makes you feel almost nauseous at the anticipation. You already know you’re going to break even more, but there’s something about thinking about your mother being heartbroken that already tears you apart.

And maybe a part of it is because…it feels like you had a hand in her heartbreak because it was your husband who killed Lucerys.

It was not really you, you know that. You were oblivious to your husband's affairs, but no matter what anyone says, yes, that’s what is dwelling within, your guilt. It rattles you to the point you can’t be comfortable in your own skin.

As you get closer to your mother's quarters breathing gets hard once again, and your surroundings begin to dim, leaving only the narrow path ahead visible. You want to run away and not face the pain you’ll see. But when the doors to your mother's quarters open and you see her sitting across the fireplace, alone and in the dark, that panic settles as if she was the fresh air you needed to calm down, leaving you with the need to be embraced by her warmth and comfort, while also giving the same in return.

“Your Grace,” you greet her softly once Baela clears the room and leaves only you and your brother with your mother.

Your pounding heart starts racing once again, but it’s not out of fear, it’s racing out of a need to ease your pain, and the pain you clearly see on her delicate face. Yet you hold strong with tears stinging in your eyes already.

“Lady Jayne Arryn has pledged her support,” Jacaerys breaks the emotional silence to share the support you both gained when you were away on a mission. “…In exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale,” you hear the tear in your brother's voice, and when you glance over at him you see him fiddling with his hands while his eyes grow more and more teary, making your already weak hold, falter.

You still want to continue for him, but when you part your lips you can’t utter a word, it’s all lost in your grief that heightens the longer you watch your mother.

“And,” Jacaerys continues sounding even more brokenhearted by the second. “Lord Cregan Stark,” he pauses and takes a deep breath, but doesn’t seem to find the will to finish. He falls breathless and that wall he usually has up to be perceived as strong, and a protector crumbles, leaving him shaky.

You reach over to grab his hand while tears start to roll out of your eyes as you trail on for him. “…Lord Stark…promised 2000 men,” you manage to share with all the might you can muster.

Your mother doesn’t respond, she instead stands from her seat with her face contorting with grief and approaches the both of you, making you completely lose the faltering hold you had on your emotions.

However, when she’s close, Jacaerys reaches out first and she welcomes him in her arms. You want to do the same, you’ve been aching for it, but your guilt hits you and you stand there frozen with your head down.

“Mother,” you mewl with streams of tears. “I’m…sorry.”

Your mother pulls away from Jacaerys just slightly, leaving her arm around his neck to approach you and caress your cheek with no disdain in her eyes; nor does she look at you like you were the one at fault, her eyes are sad, but she expresses her reassurance before she slides her arm around your neck and pulls you in her gentle embrace and confirms that she doesn’t hate or blame you.

It’s such a relieving comfort that it works to lift some weight off your chest. Weight Cregan couldn’t ease when he talked to you.

Now you can ease in your mother's embrace without feeling like she hates you. Now you can caress her back without the fear of getting rejected.

Soon thereafter, neither Jacaerys nor you attempt to leave your mother's comfort. Nor does it feel like your mother wants either of you to pull away from her embrace that protects her two eldest from the cruel reality that took her third child.

You stay interlinked and weep on each other's shoulders until she pulls away to face you both.

“I have been waiting for your return to light…Lucerys pyre,” she shares. “Is it fine if we light it tonight? The sun is setting and the winds are calm.”

You and Jacaerys don’t find a reason to push the funeral back. You also know there are other matters to attend to that don't give you the luxury of sitting in your grief.

But, oh wouldn’t that be nice?

You don’t want to ignore what happened, no, that’s not what you want. You just want to take a moment to process what happened, and who did it, and tell yourself that you will no longer see your little brother Lucerys.

But no, war forces you to face reality and deal with your grief harshly on the same night you arrived from Winterfell, and at the same spot where your baby sister's funeral pyre was lit.

This time the crowd is smaller though, more intimate. Daemon isn’t even here, which isn’t surprising, but it is also disappointing that he can’t be at his wife’s side as she deals with the death of her son, and lights yet another funeral pyre. And what grows your hatred for him even more is that he can’t seem to be bothered to be a father to his daughter who just lost her betrothed. It’s a good thing Baela is at her side.

It’s also good that you can be with your family this time, dealing with your father's grief alone was devastating. There was no one besides your handmaiden Vanessa to hold your hand and embrace you when you wept. Comforting letters could never measure up to the comfort of your mother's arms or that of your siblings and your grandparents.

Now though, you stand amongst them around the fire that will burn away the only pieces you have of Lucerys, which are his things. There's not even bones to turn to ash, nothing was found of him but his cloak, and a part of his dragon's wing.

Thus Jacaerys steps up first and throws in a soft red blanket along with a piece of his clothes. Besides a few tears rolling down his face, he holds strong now, unlike before when he was in the privacy of just you and your mother, which is assuring. He definitely seems to comfort Joffrey, who throws a wooden horse in the fire, leaving you to step up next.

Yet when you step up and lift a small wooden ship you sob for the brother you’ll never be able to see grow into a man. You’ll never be able to see him marry, or see him command his fleets. You’ll never be able to watch him build a family of his own, nor will you be able to dance another song with him, he’ll be gone forever.

You throw away all those possibilities you’ll never get to see in the fire, and watch the flames eat away at the small wooden ship, and turn to ash everything you couldn’t watch your brother do.

Thick smoke rises, it infiltrates through your nose and stings your throat and eyes while also helping you realize something through the stinging pain, that being your hate for Aemond, your husband, and best friend. You were clouded with confusion before, you couldn’t let go, but you see it clearly now in the thick smoke, you hate him.

And it’s because of your realization that you don’t realize your mother is next to you until you catch her throwing in a piece of Lucery’s clothes with agony contorting her face and clouding her eyes. She lingers by the fire for a moment and you watch her shoulders shake before she steps back. You fall by her side and glance down at her empty hand before you reach over to grab it and once again be the comfort she needs in her moment of pain.

A need to go to Rhaena’s side does grow. You feel called to her side to comfort her, but once the fire starts to lose its power, and all the wooden logs turn black, you step away from your brother and mother's side, but come to a stop right away as you feel guilt again. Your mother might’ve speechlessly assured you, but Rhaena’s anger and grief is different, what if she does blame you for what Aemond did?

If you weren’t away you probably could’ve stopped Aemond, but you weren’t with him. What if she blames you for Aemond taking her betrothed?

You don’t want to be the source of more pain for your cousin, so out of fear and guilt, you don’t approach her. You avoid her and instead, let your grandfather give his condolences before embracing your grandmother.

“I heard the Queen made you her hand,” you interject and pull back to face her with a proud smile. “Congratulations, grandmother, I could think of no one more capable than you.”

Your grandmother caresses your face and offers you a sweet and thankful smile. “Thank you, my Sweet. How are you doing?” She asks with a concerned gaze.

You sigh. “I’m dealing with all my emotions, but I’m relieved that I at least don’t have to go through my grief alone this time,” you share, earning a faint smile.

“I was wondering…” you roll out hesitantly whilst you hook your arm around his to head back inside together. “…does anyone accompany you on your patrols?”

Without needing to hear the rest of what you wanted to ask, she figures out the direction you're taking this conversation.

“No,” your grandmother assures you.

“Oh, well I was wondering,” you finally get to your question. “If I could accompany you? The sea is large, together we could cover more ground. Besides,” you sweet talk her to persuade her. “Astraea is fast, and she’s grown large from her time at Winterfell. She’s good at sea. She likes to dive with me on her. And I am a good archer on Dragonback. We could help you.”

Your grandmother scoffs and flashes you a smile. “Well as much as I would like your help, we would have to ask the Queen first. Bring it up with her and if she accepts I would love to share patrol with you, it would relieve me of some work.”

You smile excitedly and nod eagerly. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll ask her at the next council meeting.”

Your grandmother offers you an encouraging smile and helps you feel some joy in the dark storm that casts over you.

Of course, no one or nothing brings you more joy than your little one, your beloved Aerion. When you see him fast asleep in his cradle your dim world lights up and you muster a happy grin.

As much as you want him to wake so he knows you’ve returned to him, you let him be and just crouch by the cradle to admire him as he sleeps.

You admire his cute round cheeks, his tiny little hands balled up to fists over his head, his thin eyelashes he got from his father, and those pink thin lips he also got from

Aemond. But most importantly you watch his chest carefully to make sure he’s breathing.

You could watch him sleep for hours on end and never tire. Especially because sometimes, just like now, you catch him smiling in his sleep and you just can’t help but swoon.

You always wondered what it is they dream about, fairytales mayhaps? Food? Their parents?

Does he dream about his father now that they’re apart? A father who loves him, and takes pride in his son? A father that you hate and…cheated on…

He killed your little brother, and you lay with Cregan because you wanted to, because you missed him, and you were upset and selfish, but now that you’re looking at your son sleeping away a different pang of guilt punctures your heart.

A guilt you shouldn’t feel, Aerion is young, he won't remember this conflict, but he will feel shame if he ever finds out you cheated on his father.

Yes, his father hurt you first, Aemond betrayed you first. He hurt you in one the worst ways possible! But…now…

Now you’re looking at Aerion and you think of how this could also hurt him. He’s young, a baby turning five months old soon, he won’t remember his life as an infant, but your secret won’t be forgotten, especially if in the future Cregan and you aren’t together.

It would hurt him so much if he ever found out. That’s what makes you cry with guilt. Not regret, you don’t regret your night with Cregan, he made you happy, but you do feel guilt and shame.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

Does Aemond’s crime justify what you did?

You can’t help but think of that, you can’t help but think of the hate you harbor, but you also can’t stop thinking about him. About the way his family doesn’t show him the affection you do. He protects them and takes care of them, but they will never return it in the same amount.

He’s probably lonely, and brooding. He’s probably silently just lurking in his brother's council, and breaking his fasts alone.

You always tried breaking fast and eating dinners together. He always smiled when he saw the way you were dressed, especially when you wore purple. He always gave you a kiss before you drifted apart for the day, and when you saw each other he kissed you with need as if you had gone years without seeing each other.

When night came, or when you found yourselves just in a calm moment, he let his guard down and let himself be vulnerable. You loved those moments the most because it felt as if only he and you existed in this world.

Actually, he treated you like you were the only person he has ever loved. You came first all the time, even before your son. Which is selfish, but you never minded because who could treat you the same?

Cregan’s people come first, the North comes first no matter what he says. That’s why he’s not marching over here to fight himself because other priorities come first, but with Aemond, he may have his goals and his pride, but you were never held lesser than something. His anger got in the way. It’s blinding but you understand why.

You understood at least…because the truth is you can’t defend him now…

He deserves his solitude. You hate him for taking Lucerys away. That much is true and you put that over everything.

“Princess,” Vanessa’s sweet voice cuts through the blowing breeze of the sea, making you pick your eyes off your son to look into the distance.

“Vanessa,” you entertain your handmaiden with what you know she’s leading up to.

“I was wondering,” she parts her lips, but before she can finish her thought the sound of your name coming from someone else’s lips interrupts the conversation. You look back and smile faintly when you see your grandfather Corlys.

“Grandfather,” you greet sweetly as you stand up to watch him approach you at shore.

“I’m surprised to see you out here so early,” he mentions, making you scoff softly and look down at Aerion watching your grandfather carefully.

“When I saw Aerion he was sleeping, so I wanted to make up for it and spend as much time as I can before I’m called away,” you tell him and study him, noticing he’s standing up a lot straighter than before, and still using a very nice wooden cane. “I wanted to apologize for not going to visit you when you were abed. I’m more than glad to see you up now and attending to your fleet.” You smile brightly and watch him get close to watch Aerion in your arms.

“It's quite all right,” he assures you and meets your gaze. “You are a dragon rider, and the Queen's daughter, there’s a lot to do. I'm happy to see you safely returned, I know Aerion has missed you.”

You glance at your son, and as if he knew you were admiring him he glances at you and smiles before laying his head on your shoulder.

“Rhaenys and I would take him on strolls when the day gave us time,” your grandfather catches you by surprise. “The poor lad would be cooped all day with your mother gone.”

Considering Aerion the son of Aemond, you didn’t think your grandparents, especially your grandfather would much care for your son, but hearing his report really brings a warmth to your heart.

“I noticed that young Aerion quite enjoys being by the water,” your grandfather adds, making you grin and nod.

“Yes, he loves it when the waves roll over his feet,” you share giddily and caress your son's head as you return your gaze to your grandfather. “And he gets lulled to sleep by the sound of crashing waves.”

“He’ll be a fine sailor in no time.”

You hum happily at your grandfather's comment and then watch him glance out at the never-ending sea before he sighs softly, and then looks back at you with a faint smile that lets you catch a look in his eye that makes you think he’s up to something.

“Why don’t you and Aerion accompany me to Driftmark? It’s still early, and you can come back by dragonback before you’re needed,” he suggests.

You have been meaning to keep your mind off all the racing thoughts that kept you up at night, and well, you are extremely curious. It’s not common for him to invite you to accompany him anywhere. That’s what your grandmother does.

“Vanessa,” you address your handmaiden, and give your grandfather an answer. “Return inside, if anyone asks for me tell them where I am and that I will return soon.”

Your handmaiden offers you a comprehensive nod and goes off to do as you asked, letting you walk with your grandfather toward his boat under the morning sky pampered with fluffy white clouds that make you feel a smidge of joy as certain memories infiltrate your mind.

“On nice days like these my father would take me sailing,” you muse with your grandfather. “I’m pretty sure the septa giving me lessons would despise when he would pull me from my lessons since I was a princess and had no business doing boy stuff, but,” you grin softly. “He was the prince consort, he did as he pleased and my mother never minded. Besides, I encouraged him,” you pause and feel your eyes begin to sting without much warning.

“He taught me a lot of ships…I miss him,” you finish in a whisper.

Your grandfather lets out a deep sigh and you see him nod along with you from the corner of your eye.

“Did he teach you how to read maps?” Your grandfather wonders.

You nod. “Yes, and star charts. I could learn more about those, but I could follow the stars North and to King’s Landing with no map. He…never tried to leave anything out, he was always so excited.”

Your grandfather hums and you glance over at him to address something else on your chest. “I’m glad you decided to side your fleet and Driftmark with my mother.”

His dark eyes meet yours and he quirks a brow. “Why would I side with Aegon?”

Well besides him being a man, there’s also the fact that it’s highly theorized Daemon killed his son. You believe and hate him for it, but no matter how much you want to share that belief, you bite your tongue and shrug as if it was just a concerned-filled thought.

Your grandfather understands your speechless response and holds your gaze as he gives his vague response. “I had many reasons to side with your mother.”

You offer him a simple proud smile and reach his boat in a peaceful silence only filled by the crashing waves and the cawing of seabirds. You had hoped to feel a hint of those exciting and tender feelings you oftentimes felt with your father when you were out at sea, but even if you walk with his father, those feelings you ache to reconnect to aren’t anywhere close, reminding you that you’ll never be with your father ever again, or have a bond with any father-figure.

Albeit your grandfather does let you sail the boat to Driftmark, but as excited you do feel to show off your skills and once again maneuver a boat, you still feel empty within.

“My dragon loves the sea,” you begin to say with the intention of persuading him to use your aid at sea whilst you keep an eye on the distant waters. “And I have learned how to use a bow and arrow on dragonback, perhaps I could be the dragon rider to protect your fleet when battle hits our shores, or we attack theirs,” you finish and peer back at him with a sly grin, unknowingly reminding him of his son when he was your age and eager to prove his worth. You even wore the same sly smile Laenor wore when he was proving himself a fine sailor and dragonrider.

“That…” he starts off quietly but then clears his throat and sounds as mighty as ever. “That would honor me.”

You offer him a happy smile over your shoulder and then let your gaze fall on Aerion strapped on your chest, noticing him watching the waves with his eyes wide and full of wonder.

However, the wonder slowly gets lost as he starts to get lulled to sleep. He tries to fight the sleep to keep watching the moving waves, but he’s outmatched and loses himself to sleep not long before you arrive at Driftmark’s shore.

Unlike Dragonstone, Driftmark is more lively with people; both townspeople and soldiers from the fleets as well as those who work on your grandfather's massive ship. Some seem worried that something could happen at any given moment, while others seem to be happy just mindlessly living.

You begin to wonder about that happiness, you don’t envy their joy, a part of you resents all these people being so happy and living their lives unaffected by the death of Driftmark’s Heir. You wonder why it is they don’t feel what you’re plagued with, you want them to feel your sorrow.

But then you do realize that you’re just letting your pain cloud your judgment.

“Besides having you accompany me,” your grandfather interjects, pulling your attention away from the large ship. “I wanted to share something I have been thinking of as of late.”

You clasp your hands together and out of instinct reach out to fiddle with the ring Aemond gave you, but you’re then surprised when you feel that your ringer finger is bare.

You spare a glance at your finger and drift your gaze to the ground, but you’re then reminded of the fact that you left your ring behind in your borrowed quarters at Castle Black.

You probably won’t ever see it again…

“…I was hoping that when Aerion is older he could be my ward,” your grandfather catches your attention and makes you furrow your eyebrows and look at him with disbelief, and slightly bothered.

“Of course,” he continues, “he won’t have to join me until he’s much older, but he is Laenor’s grandson, I want him to know the sea, and I want to teach him about ships and how to command fleets like I taught your father.”

You glance at your sleeping son and cradle the back of his head as if protecting him from being parted from you.

“He’s the son of a second son, he won’t inherit a crown or a castle from his father, but he could inherit…my title.”

You snap your eyes over to him and come to a slow stop as you’re overcome with surprise. You want to be filled with pride and joy, but there’s an obstacle that stops you. “But,” you mutter your thought out loud. “He is Aemond’s son. A man who opposes us. A man who killed your heir.”

Your grandfather turns away from his ship and faces you, and doesn’t fail to nod in agreement. “Aye, he is the son of Prince Aemond, but Aerion has salt-littered blood. He is the grandson of Laenor Velaryon, my son.”

Aerion is also your son, and you are also your father's firstborn, and only biological child, but he doesn’t seem to ever mention that! What are you, a painted portrait?

You would’ve loved to inherit Driftmark and his title of Lord of the Tides, but no!

You would ask about Rhaena getting that chance before Aerion since she is the daughter of his only daughter, but you don’t see that having a good answer, so you don’t even waste your breath.

“What of Joffrey?” You bring up. “He should be your heir.”

Your grandfather sighs and nods stiffly but quickly counters you. “Perhaps, but I want it to be Aerion. The grandson of my son.”

It’s not hard to realize the actual truth behind his response; Joffrey is the bastard son of your father. With Lucerys gone, he can actually name an actual Velaryon his heir. It doesn’t seem fair, your father loved your brothers whether they were his or not, but who are you to deny Aerion of a fruitful future?

He comes first now, and it doesn’t seem like your grandfather is actually asking your permission or for your actual thoughts, his mind seems mind up, so with a deep breath and a hesitant smile you accept what he brings up. “That…would make me happy. And I’m sure it would’ve made my father happy.”

Your grandfather offers you a smile and surprises you by patting your shoulder as an endearing gesture that brings a…silence where you smile faintly out of pride, but you can’t help but think what next. You’ve never actually spent so much time with your grandfather, and if you do your grandmother has always been with you.

“Why don’t you show your knowledge on the ship,” your grandfather luckily drifts the attention over.

However, just as you approach the plank resting on the dock, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder and interjecting loudly. “Alyn!”

You follow his gaze and blink repeatedly in surprise when you see the same Addam of Hull who fought in your engagement tourney.

When the man’s eyes fall on you beside your grandfather his lips part in surprise, but when he reaches you he closes his mouth and bows his head. “Princess,” he greets you properly right away.

“Ser,” you greet him quite excitedly.

“Good,” your grandfather cuts in and steps back. “You remember each other.”

You drift your gaze to your grandfather and express your confusion with knitted eyebrows that he helps ease with a quick response. “I sent him to check on you for me when I was fighting in the Step Stones.”

Instead of going to you himself?

Whatever.

“Really?” You ask with more surprise. “Well thank you, he was a very excellent jouster who brought Driftmark and me great pride.”

Alyn offers you a stiff smile and bows his head as a thank you.

“Good, I’m glad to hear he can’t show his skill,” your grandfather fills the man’s silence. “Why don’t I let you get reacquainted.”

Without room to argue he walks away and leaves you alone with Ser Alyn—or is it just Alyn since it was your grandfather who sent him?

“Seeing you again makes this world feel small. I never thought our paths would cross again,” you fill the silence to avoid awkward silences.

“In truth neither did I,” he admits. “But it is an honor.”

You offer him a smile and notice how much more muscular he is now compared to before. He’s also a lot more serious too.

“Who—”

“Alyn!”

You both turn your attention to the caller, and you see a tall and thin man with long dreadlocks approaching with a bright and charming grin that immediately works to intrigue you.

Albeit when he notices your unique white hair, your long and elegant red gown finer than any material he’s touched; accompanied with shiny gold jewelry on your hands and neck, he realizes that you are no ordinary woman. The man’s grin slowly disappears at the realization and he slows down towards Alyn. Once he’s finally nearby he straightens up and doesn’t fail to bow when he joins you and Alyn.

“My Princess,” the mystery man greets you with a nervous but charming smile that actually serves to completely get rid of any tension or awkward atmosphere he could’ve brought.

“Princess,” Alyn interjects and looks at the man in blue beside him. “This is my brother Addam. Addam, this is the Princess, granddaughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon.”

You and Addam meet each other's gaze and that snobby princess Addam already imagined you’d be upon laying eyes on you completely falls apart when you offer him a bright smile in return. You perhaps are one of the most majestic beauties he’s ever laid his eyes on, he can’t help but think. Even from afar you were luminous and almost like an illusion, but from up close he could see your beauty was no illusion, he could see a sadness in your eyes, but so much more that intrigued him.

You give him your name and Addam’s eyes proceed to fall on the sleeping infant strapped on your chest. “Who is this?”

You cradle your baby's head and introduce him to Addam and Alyn. “This is my son, Aerion Targaryen.”

“Hm, not one to care about first impressions I see,” Addam throws out boldly, making his brother shoot him a warning glare. You, however, laugh genuinely in return, which is something that surprises even you. You didn’t think you could ever laugh the way you just did again.

“He takes after his father,” you mirror his humor.

“Well, we’ll let this lad get away with it this time.”

You scoff and nod. “I’ll make sure he’s more prepared next time,” you remark lightheartedly.

He hums and glances over at his brother. “Could I ask how you met?”

“At a tourney,” you answer for Alyn. “Last year. Apparently, he was sent by my grandfather.”

“Tourney?” Addam asks as if it’s the first time hearing of it. “Aren’t you supposed to be a knight?”

“Actually I was trying to get to that too,” you share and both wait for a response from the serious man.

“Well I was surprised to see what money could buy,” he remarks. “I was deceitful when I entered. I am no knight.”

You hum and ease his growing worry right away by assuring him. “Well, I would say you were actually quite entertaining and impressive. You fought well and won.”

Addam pats his brother's back and whispers, “I’m proud of you.”

You watch Addam offer his brother a very faint smile and you can’t help but remember the grief you had pushed aside as you remember the brother you lost.

“I was hoping to have some early brunch with my brother,” Addam now directs at you. “But it seems insignificant now that you have graced us with your presence.”

You can't help but smile with amusement and feel slightly flattered. Addam is surely more outgoing than his brother in a way that doesn’t fail to catch your interest and actually helps bring attention to his fierce spirit that you can’t help but feel the need to get to know.

Actually meeting him makes you feel like you found something you had been in search of your whole life.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- romantic or platonic? (For those who have read moonlight before already know but please don’t spoil it for the rest heheh :)

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (10)

X. Lurking Shadows

MASTERLIST

Summary: Keep your friends and your husband close… and your enemies? Well…

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy!, fear of childbirth, discussing death in childbirth and all that comes with it, unrealistic birthing scenes, (I mean, what would I know really?) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,4 k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I think I lost my connection to this story. I know some of you didn’t like where this was going, the reader being so “defenseless” without Cregan, I had to re-read the whole thing to truly return to it.

Summary: Keep your friends and your husband close… and your enemies? Well…

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, pregnancy!, fear of childbirth, discussing death in childbirth and all that comes with it, unrealistic birthing scenes, (I mean, what would I know really?) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: X k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I think I lost my connection to this story. I know some of you didn’t like where this was going, the reader being so “defenseless” without Cregan, I had to re-read the whole thing to truly return to it.

After that horrid and terribly realistic nightmare, you never saw your uncle again, neither in the realms of dreams nor the realms of men, so that was a relief

But how could you see him? He was dead, he couldn’t hurt you anymore…

It took you a while to fully comprehend that, the next nights were tormentous, but then, something happened that brought you back to reality…

Your baby started kicking

You smiled as you felt the little kicks inside of you and touched your belly, that certainly grounded you, it made you come back to reality as of sorts, and it made you more focused, you attended every meeting, you held audiences, and you even appeared more in front of the people of King’s Landing, that gathered every afternoon chanting for you.

You were blooming, and even though you had relayed in Cregan a lot, you were beginning to settle in your post, without a hand.

But you missed him, terribly, specially at night 

days turned quickly into weeks, and then into months, and soon you could barely move, you grew tired quickly, you devoured everything you could during meals, and your babe moved tirelessly inside of you, specially at night

It had moved so much last night, that today at the small council meeting, you were fighting to not fell asleep

You couldn’t help it, you closed your eyes for barely a second, and you managed to open your eyes again, your lords were looking at you with kind eyes and soft smiles

“I’m so very sorry”, you muttered, rubbing your belly, trying to accommodate in the uncomfortable wooden chair

“You have nothing to be sorry for, our gracious lady”, muttered Lord Lannister, “perhaps we should move the meeting”

“No! no”, you insisted, “please continue”

“A new prince or princess to the seven Kingdoms, heir to the Iron Throne will be born soon, is a matter of great celebrations, a ray of hope, an unmistakable sign that the war is over and new times are coming, a new era of dragons, we should celebrate”, Lord Redwyne was a great narrator

“I agree”, said lord Celtigar, “the people need new things to look forwards to, I can see it from reports all over the Kingdoms, everyone should know”

Celebrate an heir you still didn’t have in our arms, gods, it was almost too similar of the story of Queen Aemma, your grandmother, as was told by your mother

“He or she isn’t born yet”, you said softly, and you had come to terms with the fact that there is a big chance you would perish in childbirth, but you were hopeful

“We are aware your grace”, muttered Lord Lannister, “but… as Lord Celtigar said… the people need a reason to celebrate”

“That might be true but, what if we do it after? after the birth, we should send word all over the Kingdoms, and then… when we have her or him in our arms, then we celebrate”, your lords seemed to realize what you were implying, and they of course nodded understandably

“Have we received word from our Lord Cregan?”, asked the maester

“Only his weekly reports of advances in the restoration of the North”, said quickly Lord Celtigar, who was indeed seating in your right as he was the hand

“The one who keeps demanding an audience is still… Lord Corlys”, you looked away, not wanting to face the man, perhaps you were being childish, but… you could not face the man that was supposed to be your grandfather by name 

“I don’t want to see him”, you said shortly

“Very well”, muttered Lord Redwyne, “He has send his bastard son Adam, to the capital, to seek an audience”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually need anything”, muttered Lord Celtigar, “he is looking for a way in”

“Perhaps a meeting with our own master of coin would ease him enough to stop bothering us?”, you tried

“That will do your grace”, muttered Lord Redwyne

“Any other news of importance?”, you asked after a long sigh, rubbing your belly, your back had started to hurt

“We have completely lost contact with the Citadel, and oldtown”, confessed the Maester, everyone looked at him, concerned

“Explain”, you demanded 

“The situation was delicate after the end of the war, I have trusted brothers with which I exchange letters and they have all stopped”, that did truly concerned you

“What about the Hightowers?”, you asked then

“The last report is that they received tons of grains from the Tyrells and then they… stopped sending reports as well”. You took a long breath

“Should we… send someone to Oldtown?”, you suggested

“That would be best”

“Escorted by an army and a dragon?”, you continued, the lords were nervous and they exchanged looks between them

“Your Grace has a point, to send only lords would be a mistake”

“We cannot jump to arms against Oldtown for no apparent reason”

“Keep trying to contact your people, anyone, inside Old Town, if in a moon we don’t get any more news, we will gather a small force, and choose an envoy”, you commanded, and they all nodded 

Finally they released you as the sun was setting, and you thought about taking a nap, but if you did, then you were not going to be able to sleep at night, so you decided to go to the gardens to enjoy the sunset 

You liked to think you didn’t need a master of whispers, that you knew fairly well what was happening in your Kingdoms, but apparently… not…

He came unannounced, one second you were watching a beautiful winter rose bush, and the other, a presence came rushing to you unannounced, you raised your eyes and you thought you were dreaming

Cregan, you gasped with a wide smile, but it wiped quickly when you saw his scowl

“I thought you were happy with me, with our marriage”, you frowned as you looked at him, this is the first words to you for months?, “I thought this is what you wanted”

“It is! I am happy!”, you said quickly

“You must despise it, despise me, if you kept this from me so…”, you took a step towards him and around the bush, he got quiet when he saw you, the roses were hiding your round form but now he looked at you with wide eyes and open mouth

You looked so, so beautiful, in his mind, he had never seen anyone so breathtaking as you

He quieted himself and jumped to grab you in his arms and kissed you hungrily, all his anger slipped away from his mind and from yours and he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you lovingly and tightly

“I fucking missed you, you resentful little creature”, he growled, against our lips, right before he nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper

“I missed you”, you whispered, kissing him back, “So much”, you promised, gasping desperately against his lips, against the short beard he was growing.

There was no more time for anything else… 

. . .

Soon he had you naked in your rooms, resting on his chest after he actually proved to you how much he had missed you, and grabbing you so tightly as a way of a small punishment

“how did you manage to come without being announced?”, you asked, hugging him tightly

“I have my ways”, he muttered back, “but I really need to know”, he said, his voice choking with worry, “why?”, he asked, still caressing you, “I’ve been going over it over and over and many answers come to mind, none of them pleasant”, he needed an explanation of why you kept this from him, and you understood that

“I wrote you a letter”, you defended yourself, he signed, “You didn’t receive it?”

“I did not”, he muttered

“It was moons ago, explaining why I didn’t tell you, told you I missed you and asking you to return, then I received a letter from you asking me to go up there, and I couldn’t, I didn’t want to chance it”, you whispered, he caressed your belly tenderly, and it felt as good as you imagined it, his big warm hand, your babe kick inside your womb, making Cregan chuckle

“Have you been able to sleep?”

“Not when I eat strawberry tarts after the tea hour, then… it moves a lot”, you answered, Cregan laughed softly

“Well, you are carrying a wolf pup in there”, he teased

“Or a dragonling”, you answered back.

“oh gods, how could you let me leave you like this”, he said, he truly, truly felt bad

“When you got sick, and were about to die”, you confessed, “you whispered your son’s name in your fever induced dream, and I realized that if you were truly going to die, you were never going to see your son again, if you knew I was pregnant, you wouldn’t have gone North for another year or so, and your people needed you”.

He thought about it for long minutes, thinking about everything you had told him. And he sighed

You were right

“But what if something… had happened to you?”, he asked then

“I devised a plan, and I made everyone swear on it”, you confessed

“Which was?”, he asked

“If I perished in the birthing bed… My brother was to be crowned King, with the same council, and four regents to rule in his name until he became of age… Jeyne Arryn of the east, you, from the North, Lannister from the West, and a Tyrell from the South”, he nodded, “if our child had survived me, regardless, I asked them to give him to you, with a dragon egg…”, you told him, he was resigning her own children’s crown only for him to go back home where he wanted to be

“Well, it was a good plan”, he whispered. But he felt chills at the very thought of raising a little dragon without her beautiful dragon Queen by his side. Without even realizing he held you more tightly against him.

“But we will not come to that”, he said severely, “but I will go with it, if anything happens”

“Alright”, you whispered, “good to know”

But he was back now, no harm was going to come to you as he remembered the tumultuous this last weeks had been for him…

It took him weeks, a whole moon, maybe two, to get back to King’s Landing, more than he ever thought possible, he had to move a big group of people and as such, it required time… You could have given birth by now.

He thought about it again and again, to where it might have gone wrong.

Well, he now knew the reason why you couldn’t travel up North to meet him, because you were pregnant, he really appreciated you were being careful, and if the reports from the small council had any truth to them, you were doing great in the command of the Kingdoms, without a hand to help you.

You were truly magnificent 

You had managed to send compensations and start reparations for everything that needed repairs after the war, even though some town were ages away from truly recovering, you had even started talks with Dorne

It was a new age, and you were shining like the fire your family incarnated 

He was truly proud

And as Cregan was in the White Harbor, trying to sail south despite the weather, he had to prepare his son and leave him to travel behind with a stronghold of his house to come with im, including maesters and cooks, anyhow, he rode his steed from Winterfell to the White Harbour, he was so desperate he made the trip in half the time it took him last time, and then he sailed on a small, faster ship, back to the capital, he wasn’t even announced, he traveled almost in hiding, hoping nothing bad was going to happen, and it didn’t

That is why he could travel so fast, like no man has ever done before.

In a moon, his son and a small army was going to reach King’s landing, but the important part is that he made it… you were still pregnant, and he could accompany you through the birth, and… he was going to be here, to be with you 

“Please don’t ever keep something like this again, I thought we were trough that”, he reprimanded, and you nodded

“Yes husband”

You promised, inside this room or when it was just the two of you, you were his wife, not his Queen, and… it was hard to balance both, but he was patient, and you were smart.

In the next day Cregan would spend his days trying to get ahold of the current situation in the Kingdoms, and he felt somewhat unneeded, you were doing great without him, but he was happy to be back to take over so you could rest, as he had been told that you were falling asleep sometimes.

He was very concerned about the situation in Old Town, truly concerned, that was dangerous, but at the same time, he didn’t want to risk anyone from the small council, good thing though they had the Lannisters on their side this time

“We should call in the Tyrells”, you muttered as you ate a strawberry miniature pie, “make sure their alliances are still with us”

“Good plan”, he said over breakfast, “that way they will know they are alienated”

You had a bad feeling over the Hightower situation, it made you truly nervous. Summing up to the fact that Cregan wouldn’t leave your side.

It's like he didn’t trust you anymore, he was looming over you, watching you closely. Whenever you had an audience or a meeting he was right beside you 

You had grown impossible bigger, you could barely move, you had to call in your maids and ladies in waiting again, for you couldn’t even put on shoes without assistance.

Your only consolation is that your baby was kicking wildly every morning, and according to the maesters, she or he was healthy and ready to come out at any moment. 

You had also seen them very nervous, consulting with the stars and other methods to calm the small council about your own wellbeing, nobody said it outloud, but you could see the worry in their faces

Also according to the maesters, it was a 50/50 chance that you’ll perish, taking into account your family’s history, but they were hopeful, because you, as Queen, as access to the best maesters, and as it was more at stake, they were going to take great care of you.

Besides, your mother had given birth to 5 healthy boys, and you, and survived seven pregnancies. 

But her mother didn’t

You tried not to think about it

The small council, despise it all, were hopeful and had huge celebrations planned for the arrival of the future Prince or Princess

You were concerned about the future, of you, and of your child, but that was reduced to nothing as suddenly, when you were getting dressed, you felt like a fountain inside of you collapsed, and you released a large amount of water

“The babe!”, cried your lady in waiting, “fetch the maester and the midwives!”, she commanded quickly

Cregan had left early to go on a mission deep in the city, and he wasn’t in the castle when the midwives came to you, changed your clothes to a simple nightdress, and laid you there in your own bed.

You started crying out in pain as the contractions began, and according to the midwife, it could take all day, the process was long

“Mmmmm”, you moaned in pain, “I need to be on my feet”

“My Queen!”, you wouldn’t take no for an answer, they help you up and you walked around the room, rubbing your back with one hand and your belly with the other 

You needed to obey what your body needed, and you felt relieved as you walked around, taking deep breaths

“You are doing great, your Grace”, they encouraged, the sweet ladies. 

Another construction swept over you

“Notify the small council, and please try to find my husband”, you begged them, and they nodded and one of them ran to fulfill your command 

But your sweet and calm disposition didn’t last long

“THAT FUCKING CUNT!”, you screamed, hours later, laying on your bed, legs spread wide open, “I fucking hate him for doing this to me”, the oldest of the midwives just smiled, having flashbacks of Rhaenyra when she gave birth herself 

“Not long now, sweet Queen”

The small council was gathered, nervously waiting for news of you, they had servants all placed from the small council chambers to your rooms, so they could know what was happening.

“I had commanded the high Septon to keep our Queen in his prayers for the last week”, muttered lord Redwyne, who was very devout, but, it was not of great comfort to the remaining men in the room

“She will survive this”, asserted Lord Celtigar

“The maesters and midwives agree that it was a easy pregnancy”, affirmed the Grand Maester

They didn’t know what else to talk about

“Where is Lord Cregan?”

“He reached the Queen’s chambers”, said the Lord Commander, entering the room

“Good”

You felt so relieved when you saw Cregan entering your chambers, kneeling by your side

“Your Grace, is not customary for the King to be present during the Birth”, muttered the lead Midwife

“i don’t care”, he leaned in, kissing your sweaty forehead

“Are you alright my love?”, you barely nodded, grabbing onto him and the bedsheet, preparing for the next contraction that made your whole body tremble

“They are more close to each other, I think it's time”

“It hurts so much”, you cried, the grand maester showed up then, and made you drink the last of milk of the poppy that was allowed for pregnant women 

Cregan looked at the scene concerned, there was no blood yet, and it had been barely a couple of hours so, he was optimistic, you were in good health, and he was there by your side, it had to be alright, it had to.

“Alright, when the next contraction comes, your grace will start pushing, alright?”, you barely nodded, grabbing onto Cregan so tightly he was afraid you’d snap his hand, turning his bones into dust

And it washed over you, more intense and painful than the ones before, with a scream, you did exactly that.

You had never done it before, but it felt like your body knew exactly what to do 

But you have never been in so much pain in your entire life

Never

“Again”, demanded the Midwife, and you were really losing it in the pain

“There's blood”, muttered Cregan, truly concern

“That is normal your grace”, the pain never left you now, it took ahold of you and wouldn’t let go

You started crying, you were in so much pain you feared that there was never going to be relief again.

“Don’t cry my love, you are doing great”, he whispered against your temple

“I’m scared!”, you cried

“Again your grace please, I can see the head”, encouraged the youngest and sweeter of the midwives

“Arrrggghhhhhh!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs

. . .

Fast steps could be heard against the stone walls of the Keep, resounding in the empty corridors

The sun was hiding in the horizon when a young boy interrupted in the small council chamber, where the men inside jumped at the intrusion

“What has happened?”, demanded Lord Lannister

“The Queen!”, he said hastily, there were the longest seconds as he regained his breath

“Well? SPEAK BOY!”, demanded Lord Redwyne, he took a long breath and then he finally managed to spoke

“She is well, and we have a Prince! my lords! a boy!”

They all jumped from their seats and hugged one another

“A prince! send the ravens to every corner of the Kingdoms!”

“Long live our Queen!”

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23

[morphodae]

Lawrence Bluewer | Headcanons

Including: general, relationship (x reader)

cw: none, mentions of “traditional Victorian era” views on heterosexual relationships, but otherwise this is relatively gender-neutral to be inclusive 💙

Read more P4 headcanons here: 🪻x 🌹x 🌱 x

General:

As we all know, Lawrence has seven sisters. He’s the only boy in the entirety of his siblings lol.

When he isn’t studying or remaining loyal to Blue House, he would be a bit more relaxed in private. As such, he’s — to no surprise — an introvert who prefers the company of those he’s known a long, long time. Or, rather, family members.

Even so, his sisters can be a bit… much. So, Lawrence does appreciate his own quiet time left alone when he has the chance.

His parents have tried and failed throughout the years to arrange a marriage for him. While he’s a man of tradition and standards, Lawrence prefers to focus himself on academics at Weston College before worrying himself with a spouse.

Relationship:

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Lawrence has little experience in the realm of romance. Sure, he has sisters and experience navigating how a woman might act, think, dress, and so on. But it’s not at all the same as courting one.

Still, I do see him as the type to be going about his business and bam — he meets someone and becomes a flustered mess against his wishes. It’s not quite the same as “love at first sight” but it’s pretty damn close. Lawrence would be taken completely off guard by someone who seems to connect with him upon first meeting.

You can absolutely guarantee that Edgar would try to play matchmaker, try to give unwarranted advice, or even set Lawrence and his crush on an outing. You know that blond man would.

The chances of Lawrence succumbing to Edgar’s whims or “generous offers of help” — as the blond calls it — are slim to none. Lawrence would rather read books, consult his calmer sisters, and try to do things his own way.

In terms of an “ideal” person, I believe that someone who can mentally stimulate Lawrence would have him swooning. Whether that be through games of chess, academic theories and knowledge, or even just supporting his escapades to seek out new things would be perfect for him.

A bit of manga spoilers that I didn’t include in Gregory’s but implied; having a supporter of his time in S4 at the music hall is also a good way to keep his attention. The sins of his past are haunting him and his friends. You likely wouldn’t know about it but whether you found out about it or not, showing him your unbridled loyalty is enough to make the stone-faced man cry.

To be honest, Lawrence is rather… simple to please. Once he falls for you, and you continue to woo him by showing support, respect, and having meaningful conversations with him, there’s not much else to do.

Outings (dates) are usually simple but nonetheless well-thought out and organized due to his diligence. He’s punctual and likes to ensure everything is no less than perfect for you. It isn’t about impressing you but rather, showing you he’s responsible. Plus, order and absolution have been instilled into his personality since he was young; so it’s likely that any managing or planning skills are second nature to him.

Acts of service is his primary love language. While traditional displays and gifts are common — and of no shortage due to his wealth — he feels much more comfortable doing things to make your life easier and show, rather than tell, of his affection. But, if you preferred a different love language then he would be willing to discuss it further and if it was something unfamiliar to him such as physical touch or words of affirmation, then he would find a compromise with you.

At the end of the day, Lawrence is also one of the two more “traditional men” of the original prefects so I do believe marriage would be in the future for you and him. Despite pressure from his family and sisters, Lawrence much prefers to love you in a way that is practical and altruistic with his acts. He’s patient and respectful, however, and would wait until you were ready for such a large step in the relationship.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing. 

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward. 

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse. 

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse. 

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords.  A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently. 

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs. 

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne.  You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room. 

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that. 

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.” 

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words. 

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles.  “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -”  Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises. 

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’ 

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted.  “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.” 

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?”  He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster. 

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.” 

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts.  “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly. 

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement. 

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment.  “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner.  “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close. 

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.  

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it. 

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish. 

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Babe, Wake Up. New OM World Lore Just Dropped!

So. Nightbringer Lesson 22.

(spoilers, obviously)

The Father of Demons

While cleaning the library, MC finds a book -- one that has the same lines narrated by Solomon in the Prologue video. The book, like the video, ends abruptly at "the demon's name was..." as the rest of the book is gone, pages torn out.

The brothers wonder what the name could be, and Mammon insists it must be Nightbringer, to which Asmodeus agrees. Then, we find out that Satan learned some interesting information from a Celestial Realm book.

So the Celestial Realm also knows of Nightbringer -- but as "the father of demons", thought to be the very first demon born in the world. They go on to say Nightbringer has been known by other names as well, but otherwise, there isn't a whole lot more information on him. Okay, Simeon, please go home real quick and see if you can get this book in undamaged form for us.

That certainly brings a whole new weight to Nightbringer's identity, if he is indeed supposed to be the first demon ever to exist. So far, the game has been heavily hinting that Nightbringer is a version of Barbatos, and this new information would seemingly match up with one of the chats in OG where Barbatos mentions he was never a child, as well as the stories Asmodeus mentions of Barbatos being strong enough to be Demon King himself.

However, the identity of the child, as well as what Nightbringer's actual goals are with MC, is still to be revealed, and this doesn't help to actually clarify any of those questions yet.

The Secret of the Little D.'s

Another major thing we learned is about the Little D.'s -- and that is that they are technically fairies or spirits that came from a tree that the Fairy King used to tend, back when the Fairy King ruled the Devildom. The game goes on to explain that this makes them technically actually fairies or spirits, though the Little D.'s call themselves demons, so their true nature is a mystery -- especially since they are also sometimes born when a new demon is born into the world, but not always!

Interestingly, Barbatos also phrases it as those demons being chosen, so though it's extremely rare, it is seemingly not random, though we don't know exactly why or how.

New demons being born into the world also includes when fallen angels turn, it seems, since the extremely rare occurrence of these spirits being born alongside demons happened with all seven of the brothers after their fall.

So it's not that the main Little D.'s are just lesser demons of each particular sin, but that they are direct spirit counterparts to the demon brothers -- one for each of them, one for each sin.

Which brings us to ...

The Seven Sins

We've always known the seven brothers as the Avatars of the Seven Deadly Sins, but an interesting bit of information we learned in this lesson is that the brothers didn't know why they were given these particular titles, or if Pride, Greed, Envy, etc. were even known as the Seven Deadly Sins at the time the titles were given to them.

Beelzebub refers to them as "keywords", and we again establish it was the Demon King who gave these titles to the brothers. Diavolo says that if his father decided to give these titles to them, they must be important.

We know that the brothers were already exhibiting signs of their assigned "sin" even when they were angels, but as shown by Mammon's behavior in the past two lessons, the full force of each sin hasn't taken over all of them just yet. In fact, Mammon's greed has come out in a dangerous, powerful way as he becomes more of a demon.

It remains to be seen what, if any, relevance this has with MC losing their connection to the OG boys, but we know how they've changed by OG Season 1, where they fully embrace their sins.

We'll just have to wait and see!

[fqreverwinter]

“time-slipping”

— — — —

relationship: loki x fem!reader

summary: you were loki’s teenage love, but he lost you too soon. in his quest to save the sacred timeline, he time-slips to you, not knowing that you are the one thing that could help him.

warnings: none! :)

word count: 2.6k

notes: i guess i’m back in my loki era! this contains some spoilers for season two, so please read with caution if you have not seen it yet!

masterlist

The pain was like no other; time-slipping felt like Loki was being torn into a million pieces while being squished into a small box at the same time. Light flashed around him, making him feel dizzy whilst experiencing the excruciating pain. After the blinding few seconds that the phenomenon lasted, Loki finally landed in whatever spot the force thought he needed to be in next.

At first, he was confused. He was surrounded by trees and mountains—no where he had ever teleported to before. Once he got his bearings, he realized where he was.

Asgard.

It was strange. Each time Loki time-slipped, it was to a place that he had unfinished business in, whether it was the TVA in the past or the McDonald's in the way past that Sylvie worked in. He thought he had no unfinished business in Asgard.

He groaned. Unless it was to deal with his brother or his father.

As Loki began to curse whatever force was behind his teleportation for bringing him here to deal with his family drama, he heard a voice off in the distance. He paused, trying to determine where he knew this voice from. Then he heard it again and his heart skipped a beat.

"It can't be," he whispered under his breath, peeking around the tree that he spawned behind. But it was true. There, you sat, the first and greatest love he ever had.

You were on a stone bench in the middle of one of the many gardens of Asgard. Your hair was blowing in the soft summer breeze as you read aloud—your favorite way to read—a Midgardian book. Loki watched as you smiled or frowned with each line you read, taking in all of the features of your face that he missed so dearly.

You and Loki had met when you were teenagers. You lived in a cottage near the palace with your parents, both prominent jewelers in the realm. He came to their store one day with his brother to pick out a pair of earrings for the queen's birthday. You just happened to be sitting behind the counter talking with your mother when they arrived.

As soon as Loki laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to marry you. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. While Thor worked with your mother to find the gift for Frigga, he walked over to you and began a conversation.

Loki came to the shop almost every day for two weeks, asking about you every single time. You never really frequented the store, so most of the time, your parents would turn him away. After his thirteenth visit in fifteen days, your father had enough and finally took Loki back to your cottage, where you were baking, another favorite hobby of yours. Your father explained that this "obnoxious prince" had tormented the store for too long and just wanted the pain to be over, as Loki stood behind him with a sheepish grin. You laughed and invited Loki to sit with you.

The rest became history. You and Loki officially began dating after a few outings, mostly walks along the forest or snacking on fruit in the palace's courtyard. Loki was enamored with you, as you were enamored with him.

But the worst happened just seven months after your relationship began. Loki left the palace that morning with the intention of bringing you to the library within the palace, somewhere you had expressed interest in seeing but never had the chance to visit. He planned a whole day: explore the shelves, allow you to pick as many books as you wanted, then have dinner with him and his family so you could meet them properly.

As he approached your neighborhood, he noticed swarms of people standing outside the perimeters as guards blocked anyone from approaching. Curious, Loki walked up to one guard that he recognized and asked what had happened. The guard explained that last night, a group of bandits had broken into the home of a jeweler with the intent to steal some of the more precious jewelry that they kept there. The family woke up in the process and they slaughtered all three: a mother, a father, and a daughter.

The words struck Loki like a knife. His heart sank as he started to push past the guards, but they refused to budge.

"Your highness, we cannot let you through. They are removing the bodies."

"No! You must! That's my love!" he cried, still trying to push past. But it was no use. He peeked through the gaps between the guards to see if he could catch a glimpse of the scene. The only thing he was able to see was your hand, one that he recognized because of the gold ring you always wore. It was covered in blood.

Loki shook the flashbacks out of his head as he continued to watch you read on the bench. Quite honestly, he never got over that day. It sent him into a dark spiral, one that probably led him to making all the poor choices he did and landing in this godforsaken TVA in the first place. But then he wondered, why would the slipping bring him here?

He tried to move closer to you without being obvious, hoping that there was something in the surroundings that would explain his sudden landing here. As he tiptoed closer, however, he stepped on a branch, leading to a loud crack! Your head snapped up at the noise, and you made eye contact with him. Loki froze, unsure of what to do.

"Loki?" you asked. "Is that you?"

He hesitated before saying, "Uh—Yes. It's me."

You smiled softly. "What are you doing? Why are you hiding? Come here."

You shifted to the side as you closed your book and placed it on your lap. He took a breath before emerging from underneath the tree. He could see you clearly now, and your beautiful face made his heart began to race all over again

How could this be happening? he wondered. How could you be here?

"You look... different. What's with the outfit change? It's so strange," you said through a giggle.

Loki smiled at your laugh, something that he hadn't heard in so long but always brought him comfort. He cleared his throat and answered, "Um, I was trying something new. Do you not like it?"

You shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's my favorite look of yours, but I could get used to it. Come sit next to me. I missed you."

He took another deep breath before sitting beside you on the bench, moving so carefully in case you were to disappear at any sudden movement. You reached over and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, noticing a new scar on the side of his face.

"What happened, sweetheart?" you asked with a frown, tracing your finger over it. "How could this have happened since last night?"

"Uh, it didn't," he replied, panicking for a response.

You furrowed your brows. "Then how have I never noticed it before? And why do you look so... different?"

You leaned back and looked at him closely, noticing some key differences. He looked older than you were used to, so much taller and so much stronger. He looked exhausted and frustrated and anxious all at the same time. Something in you said that this was not the Loki you knew.

Loki sighed, deciding to come clean. He could tell you knew something was up. And of course you did; he was foolish to think that he could ever pull the wool over your eyes. You were never one to fall for his tricks.

"The truth is, I'm from the future. I'm stuck in this... bureaucracy that controls the timeline of the universe. Something happened and the timeline is falling apart, and I've been slipping in and out of different places in time as a consequence."

You looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. But when Loki's face didn't change, you stopped.

"You're serious?" you asked with a surprised expression.

"Unfortunately, I am," he replied, hanging his head. "For some reason, I spawned here. I have no idea why. You—You're dead. You died, darling. And I don't know if this is some sort of torture from the bastard at the end of time or if there is some other motive—but it's breaking my heart to see you."

You looked at Loki as he sat beside you, breathing heavily and shaking from the emotions coursing through him. His words sat in your thoughts—you die? Well, obviously, you die at some point, but you die young?

You had a million questions to ask him about this circumstance, but you knew that wasn't the reason he was here. You decided to focus on him instead.

"Loki," you began, placing your hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you with tears running down his face.

"Don't cry, my love. You were brought here for a reason, and I doubt it was torture. What are you trying to do with this timeline? Do you need to fix it?"

He nodded, "We have to stop it from branching or—or this dangerous man will escape and start a war."

"Right," you said with a nod, although the entire situation confused you. "So what is stopping you?"

Loki sighed and looked back down at his hands. "I—I keep doing this time-slipping, and I don't know why. I cannot figure out what I am supposed to do. I've been working at it for centuries at this point, and every time I get remotely close, something happens and it doesn't work. And there's one final option left—but I just can't bring myself to do it."

Your heart broke at his lament. You loved him so much, and you hated seeing him so beat down like this. Then, he froze before picking his head up and looking at you with that mischievous grin that you recognized.

"I know! I know why I was brought here! I'm meant to save you!" he claimed excitedly. "I-I can save you from your death, and that way none of this would have ever happened. I can correct the wrongs of the past and just be happy."

His smile dropped when he realized you didn't return his excitement. Instead, you placed your hand on his knee and gave him a sad smile.

"I don't think that's the solution, love."

"No! It is! It has to be! This is the only place that the time-slipping has taken me to that had nothing to do with the people I met at the TVA. Clearly, I'm meant to prevent your death so that we can live happily together and I never made the mistakes I did."

"Loki," you said with a sigh, taking both of his hands in yours. "You said you had a choice to make, that there was a final option. Why won't you do it?"

He looked at you right in your eyes, clearly confused as to why you wouldn't just accept the fact that he wanted to save you. "Um, well, it would mean I'd never get to see my friends again. Like, physically. I'd be able to see them but they'd never be able to see me. And ever since you have been gone, I have had the hardest time finding a group of people to accept me again. I am not willing to let that go quite yet."

"Love, have I ever told you the story about my old dog?" you asked.

Loki looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Uh, no, I don't think so."

"Well," you began with a smile. "Her name was Daisy. She was this gorgeous little retriever who could brighten anyone's day. I got her when I was just four years old, so we pretty much grew up together. She was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Then, just a few years ago, Daisy started to slow down. She was tired all the time, and she wouldn't eat or play. So, we took her to the closest animal expert. He said that she was really sick. We had to make the decision to either try a medicine that might work but could leave her in pain for the rest of her life or let her go out on her own terms. Do you know what we did?"

He shook his head.

"My parents left the decision up to me because she was technically my dog. I decided to not try the medicine and let her die on her own. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I would have loved to have more years with my Daisy, but I knew that she would not be happy. In the end, I had to make the choice that I knew was right, even if it meant losing something I loved."

Loki looked at you with wide eyes, nearly on the verge of tears again. He leaned into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. Somehow, you always knew just what to say to make him feel better.

"So, my love," you began again, holding him close to you. "Sometimes we have to make the hard choice. Sometimes you have to give up something you love. But in the end, it will be worth it."

You held him for a while, no words spoken between the two of you. You could tell that Loki needed this, he needed to just be around you for a little while longer.

Loki, now knowing what he had to do, just took in the moment for as long as he could. It had been years since he felt you. He memorized every curve of your body, every feeling he had touching you, the way you gently rubbed circles on his shoulder, the way you placed a soft kiss on his forehead every so often.

"Thank you," he finally muttered, sitting up and looking at your eyes again. "I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart," you said. "But look at the life you have without me!"

Loki shook his head with a cynical laugh. "I tried to kill Thor, destroy Jotunheim, then take over Midgard until I was captured and forced into this bureaucracy. I have had no life without you, darling."

You looked at him in disbelief for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to all that. "Well, now you have the chance to make up for all that. Be a hero, my love. What's that thing you always say? Greater purpose?"

He laughed, "Glorious purpose, yes."

"Yeah, that! Do that, sweetheart. I'll love you forever, no matter what happens. You know that."

He nodded and stood up, finally feeling ready to take on his mission. As he rose, he noticed the world around you starting to turn into string. He could not bear seeing you disappear again like he saw all his friends. It would be too much, losing you twice. You looked around in confusion as well.

"What's going on?" you asked with a puzzled look.

"It's no matter. Just look at me," Loki replied. You turned to face him. He smiled, memorizing your face one last time.

"Thank you again, my darling. I love you more than you'll ever know."

You smiled at him one last time.

Somehow, Loki had figured out how to control his time-slipping. He felt it in his veins as he was able to spawn back in the TVA without any excruciating pain or blinding light. He looked around at all of his friends—all the people he met on this journey. He closed his eyes and pictured you, the beautiful you he saw sitting on the bench and reading your book. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and formulated his plan to save the world.

[astaroth1357]

My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

[brabblesblog]

Lore Dump: Whither and Remember

Art by my bestie Leira Art

With Remember ye not the former things finished, I can now post a sort of look into the internal logic or lore for these two fics.

Spoilers for the fics below!

Disclaimer: I am by no means saying this is absolute truth. We are all welcome to headcanon as we want, and that is the beauty of fiction.

The main premise for Whither is that the Rite of Profane Ascension did not do anything to alter Astarion’s personality. He was the same person as he had always been - irrevocably changed by what he (and Tav/Ban) agreed to do in the process, yes - but there was no fundamental alteration. The Vampire Ascendant is a new creation by Larian. I interpreted it as him taking a step in combining the benefits of being mortal and vampiric. Raphael after all, had said that the rite would return the 'arousals of man' to him.

Then what are the consequences of such a deed? This is where a quick delve into infernal pacts makes itself valuable.

As revealed in Remember, there are two: the Pact Certain and the Pact Insidious.

From the Forgotten Realms wiki on devils, under Faustian Pacts:

The Pact Certain was a contract that the devils favored, because it was fast. The mortal immediately handed over his or her soul to Baator on death for some services. Barring proving that the pact was signed under some form of duress like threat of torture, these pacts' terms were impossible to adjudicate.

The Pact Insidious was a bit different. Here, a mortal and a devil agreed upon exchanging services. Namely, the devil provided the mortal with something and the mortal had to act in some manner that the devil wanted to. It was possible to make multiple follow-up contracts that gave the receiving mortals more benefits in return of additonal behaviors it had to follow. Failing to act in such manner meant that the mortal lost the contract's benefits. Agreeing to such a Pact Insidious in itself was not an act that shackled one's soul to Baator, but acting in ways that were specified within the contract or contracts meant that one acted in ways that put him or her ever closer to reach Baator on death.

The rite could have concievably been a Pact Insidious. Seven thousand souls for the luxuries that mortals enjoy and vastly increased power. In this situation, Astarion would get to keep his soul until his death, at which time he would inevitably end up in Cania.

This is the dilemma Ban and Astarion encounter at the end of Remember, and what they attempt to address in the third installment, For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell.

Why does his behavior change post-ritual, then? The fics are framed and informed by a background story for the pair that follows in-game dialogs and events faithfully. Readers of Whither already know the answer to this, and I will say the answer is best discovered reading through its chapters.

Anyways. Thank you for listening to me yap! I've had this idea in my pocket for the longest time, and I'm glad it's now out in the world. And if you ever hear these of these pacts anywhere else - you'll know what its origins are.

[justarandomuserbnamiguess]

The "Rules" to Targaryen Dragon Blood, Dragon Riding and Dragon Taming Explained ! SPOILERS!

The Velaryons have been intermarrying with the Targaryens prior to Aegons Conquest. Aegon's mother was a Velaryon who in turn was half Targaryen; their continued condition to marry the Velaryons after the conquest further affirms this. The Velaryons at this point have a little "dragon riding blood" within them, whatever the amount in Addam allowed him to tame the Seasmoke without issue. I'm primarily a book reader. Moreover, generally, the "blood of the dragon riders" is a hand wavy concept in the books itself. It functions as George wants it to function. The function of the dragon seeds narratively is to pointedly undermine the Targaryen doctrine of exceptionalism. They were given said exceptionalism by the High Septon because they had to intergrate with Westerosi Feudalism that strictly follows the faith of the seven (incest =bad but ok for the targs), but moreover, it is a concept by which George can critique those with perceived absolute power being the same as everyone else in reality.

On the topic of dragon taming/riding, there is no clear or even definitive answer to this; the entire narrative point of the Dragonseeds (Bastards with a trace of Targaryen blood; Addam, Hugh, Ulf etc) is to highlight said point - what we can come to generally agree upon is that anyone with a smidge of Targaryen blood increases the chance of taming a dragon but does not guarantee it's assurance. In the show, we have both Rhaena and Steffon Darklyn - Rhaena was noted to almost have lost her life in several attempt's and we see Steffon lose his to Seasmoke. Dragon's are capricious creature's thus there can not be any true way to know what actually goes into taming a dragon. Intriguingly, in his most recent blog post, he dove into the subject of dragons which contained potentially massive revelation for the widely accepted Targaryen (Valyrian Dragon Lord) blood = necessary to tame a dragon belief;

If dragons were nomadic, they would have overrun half of Essos, and the Doom would only have killed a few of them.   Similarly, the dragons of Westeros seldom wander far from Dragonstone.  Elsewise, after three hundred years, we would have dragons all over the realm and every noble house would have a few. 

George is a very deliberate and pointed writer - he says, "every" noble house in Westeros would have a few. If this very specific ascertain is true, it could be interpreted to totally shatters the aforementioned belief that Valryian Dragon blood was necessary to tame a dragon. It's incredibly huge. We will find out the exact specificities later as quoted below;

They bond with men… some men… and the why and how of that, and how it came to be, will eventually be revealed in more detail in THE WINDS OF WINTER and A DREAM OF SPRING and some in BLOOD & FIRE.  (Septon Barth got much of it right). 

At this point, we can only really wait for winds and speculate but the new information provided has somewhat shaken the idea of Valryian Supremacy to it's core, which ironically seems to be inline with his message to start. Only the release of the THE WINDS OF WINTER can provide the answers we really want.

[three-realms-archive]

The Three Realms Archive: Masterlist and Rules!

Welcome to the Three Realms Archive, where you can find stories about the beings that reside in the Three Realms and beyond! Whether it be stories of the Avatars of Sin, the students of Prince Diavolo’s RAD exchange programme, or of the incredible human who became sorcerer under the tutelage of the Wise Sorcerer and Master of the Seven Rulers of the Underworld… You can find their stories here!

Atmospheric introduction aside, welcome to this side blog for writing to do with Obey Me! And Obey Me! Nightbringer. These will most likely be bits and pieces that come to me when they come.

My ideas inbox is currently open (use the ‘Ideas Here!’ tab to send them), but please read the rules below first!!!

This blog is new, so bear with me whilst I work on aesthetics and getting started on writing/uploading some stuff I've written :D

Rules and masterlist under the cut:

Rules and Considerations

Please be kind and respectful to each other!

For personal reasons, this is a non-NSFW blog. Please do not suggest NSFW in the ideas box beyond slightly suggestive - any requests like this will be ignored. I will do my best to place content warnings where I think it's needed.

The ideas inbox is called such because you can be as vague as you want - even a single word. However, it is also called this because they are ideas and - depending on various factors like my schedule, how inspired I am, and how much certain ideas inspire me to write - there is no guarantee I write for every idea, or the same amount for every idea. Thank you for understanding in advance :D

I’m a fairly new OBM player, so if anything I write is contrary to the canon, please let me know and I can add a note or rectify it. Most of these are meant to be “imagine the character in this situation” and my personal interpretation.

Have fun!

Masterlist

🌟Inspired by an ideas inbox request!

Oneshot Fics

Checking In: The House of Lamentation family check into a human-world hotel.

Beware MC, the Kind: Sorcerer MC is gaining a reputation similar to that of their teacher, Solomon the Wise. But for what reasons?

Let's Form an Idol Group: Will Asmo's next attempt at making his brothers into a boy band succeed? (This one has a cute commenting challenge - please check it out!)

Dramatic Drama: Telenovelas can be very emotionally-investing for demons.

🌟A Small, Little Lie: TSL Arranged Marriage! AU. The sentence "I love you" means very different things to the Lord of Masks and his spouse and former-knight, Henry.

Love Me, Or Not: Satan pulls on flower petals, hoping to get the same result you did.

Was Never Your First, After All: A childhood friend visits you and Mammon realises ‘first man’ doesn’t suit him much anymore.

First Dates: A collection of first date thoughts from each Avatar of Sin.

Short Snippets

Ante Up: Mammon finds he's a lot more motivated to win quickly when he's at the casino with you.

The RAD School Play: Ideas about MC’s role in a school play at RAD.

Six Pillows and a Tattered Armchair: An angsty (ref. to Lesson 16) accompaniment to ‘Beel is Pillow’, exploring Belphie’s relationship with sleep in the aftermath of his actions.

The RAD Cheer Squad: 2, 4, 6, 8 - who do we appreciate? … Probably not whoever came up with the RAD Cheer Squad.

What Is Up, Fellow Celestials?: Luke finds this one human really, really cool. MC and Simeon suffer the consequences.

Just Wanting To Be Included: Mammon and Beel post a FabSnap video, but their brother just wants to be included.

Debuting Change: Diavolo invites a special guest to a special occasion.

Just A Study: Solomon tries to convince himself that living with you was just a study. Spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 40!

Relent: Belphie has a super, super smart plan to get you to cuddle in bed with him.

A Rainy Day Indulgence: Simeon dances with you in the rain, and it reminds him of something.

Headcannons

Unhinged™: A bunch of silly headcanons that could each be their own anime episodes. Chaotic things the OBM! cast have done. Inspired by this post by @leniisreallycool.

Series

Beel is Anything, If You Beel-ieve

A very unserious collection of slice-of-life snippets, where Beel goes on a journey to become as many things as possible.

Beel is Pillow: Beel is pillow.

Beel is Paint: Beel is paint, according to Asmo.

Beel is Anime: Beel is anime, and Levi is not okay with this.

🌟 Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences

A series exploring slice-of-life snapshots of the Obey Me! characters in the aftermath of Lesson 16. Each chapter is made up of two posts: a oneshot centred around one of MC's scars, wounds or minor inconveniences; and a post with the general headcanons inspiring the oneshot. Features references to injury and spoilers for Lesson 16 of OG Obey Me!.

Phantom Pain (Oneshot + Headcannons): Mammon is used to your 'needles-thing' by now. He doesn't mind it. After all, he has his own things he does every now and again.

A Weak Wrist (Oneshot + Headcannons): Your wrist is still weak from the TSL Quiz; so Lucifer doesn’t understand why you trust Leviathan more.

Nightmares (Oneshot + Headcannons): Belphegor relishes you and Beel growing further apart... until he doesn't, when Beel's dreams change.

Splintered Arms and a New Bedtime Routine (Oneshot + Headcannons - Coming Soon!): The angels are confused at the weird routine you and Beel have before bedtime during a sleepover at Purgatory Hall.

Better, Quicker Reflexes (Oneshot + Headcannons - Coming Soon!): Lucifer used to think his form of discipline was effective.

[creed-brooding]

random instances of MC being godlike. obey me spoilers as usual

pacts over all the brothers and can absorb their power at will

cab open a gate to heaven

can teleport between worlds

has access to everyone's private text messages

even diavolo thinks we're on some next level shit

and we got here in like 3 years

survived like 4 demon attacks

has entered the subconscious of demons numerous times

in NB, they technically can see the future (since they came from there)

power so strong the earth started blowing the fuck up

has whipped the demon king. and the seven rulers of hell. and they were just cool with that.

^literally and metaphorically

somehow used the power of their dead angel ancestor so that's pretty cool

even death thinks we're sexy

gave god the proverbial middle finger by coming back from death a few times

studies on the same level as demons

defeated those same demons in a relay race before

periodically rolls up to the celestial realm

it'd be super cool if u guys added stuff to this list