#untold princess of hope

[loz-untold-myths]

The Princess’s Heart ⊶⊰❣⊱⊷ Chapter 1

Fate of the Stars .𖥔 ݁ ˖ Under the Stars

˖⁺‧₊˚ Zelink Week 2024 ˚₊‧⁺˖

༺

Chapter Summary જ⁀➴

~ Two young heroes chosen by the stars share a moment beneath them.

Fic Summary જ⁀➴

~ A fairytale told in Hyrule, set in a forgotten age of the golden queendom. Passed by word of mouth from queen to princess, it is a tale of sacrificial love, hope, and determination.

Preview જ⁀➴

“I can’t remember the last time the sky was so clear,” She began, carefully watching the sea of stars as they reflected on the pond’s ripples, “It’s stormed so much recently… and I was growing tired of being locked in my study.”

It was after a moment of drawn-out silence that the young princess realized Link was hardly listening. By all means, he would have liked to, but a tempting slumber had caught a hold of him first. The princess flopped back down beside him to nudge him awake.

She whispered his name once. Then spoke it. Then, she grew rather impatient and poked him with a cold strawberry. “Wake up, Link! Don’t you want to look at the stars with me? That has to be better than whatever boar you’re dreaming about chasing.”

Ao3 Link જ⁀➴

✧ Word Count: 2,839

✧ @zelinkcommunity

𓆩o𓆪 ࿐

[writingnocturne]

Here's a little snippet from my WIP for Zelink Week ( @zelinkcommunity)! It will be a 7-chapter fairytale centered around an original version of Zelink! ✨️ I'll be drawing them a LOT once the fic is posted. :)

¨༺ ~ ◈ ° ◈ ~ ༻¨

It was then that something struck Link; it struck him swiftly and painfully, right in his chest. He realized that, at some point in the years he knew Zelda, something had taken root in his heart. And, perhaps at that moment— or perhaps even earlier— it had burst into a storm of blossoms like none other.

𓆩o𓆪 ࿐₊‧⁺˖

[xoamiiren]

SHINY NEW THINGS, ｡ﾟ☆ 𓈒𓈒 surprise piercings

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, they surprise you with their new piercing, after being inspired by you. PAIRING. uni bf!enha x tattoo artist gf!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. skinship, petnames, mild kissing

authors note ୨୧ First post, kinda nervous. I was heavily inspired by Romance Untold: Inceptio Ver. The blush, the stickers ⸝⸝ just everything!! ◜ ᴗ ◝

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HEESEUNG : Ver. Eyebrow

The soft hum of Heeseung's motorbike drifted through your open window, a familiar sound that brought a small smirk to your face. You looked up from your desk, where your latest tattoo designs were scattered, doodles of delicate lines and intricate patterns.

Moments later, you heard the door to your apartment click open, and the faint shuffle of Heeseung’s steps. He appeared in the doorway of your room, hood up, his face partially hidden. His hair was messier than usual, fluffing around his forehead in a way that seemed intentional, as if he were trying to hide something.

You spun around in your desk chair to face him.

“Heeseung?” you asked, tilting your head curiously as you pointed to your own head. “What’s with the hood?”

He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he took a few steps closer. “Just wanted to see you, princess” he murmured, his voice warm and a little playful. After a few short strides towards you, he turned your chair to face him better before leaning down, and brushing his lips gently against yours, the kiss so tender it sent a flutter through your chest.

As he pulled back, you noticed something glinting just above his eye—a small silver piercing nestled in his eyebrow, catching the light. You gasped softly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to touch it after you combed your own fingers through his soft red locks.

“When did you—?”

Heeseung’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of pride and bashfulness, the corners of his lips quirking up into a grin. “Got it today. Thought it would look cool… kind of inspired by you.”

Your fingertips gently traced the piercing, feeling the cool metal against his warm skin. It added an unexpected edge to his otherwise laidback aura, a hint of rebellion that made him look even more intriguing. It was sexy in a way you hadn’t expected, a perfect, wild contrast to his usually soft, relaxed, manly demeanor.

Heeseung’s gaze never left yours as you touched the piercing, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of excitement and hope, like a puppy waiting for approval. “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your heart swelling at the sight of his starry-eyed expression. “I love it. It suits you… makes you look a little dangerous.”

Heeseung chuckled, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “Mm? Dangerous? I like that.” He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this new piercing was the perfect addition to the boy you adored.

JAY : Butterfly Kiss

The gentle patter of rain against the window filled the room. You lay on the bed, lost in thought, when you heard the front door open. Moments later, Jay stepped into the room, casually shaking off his damp jacket.

"Hey baby," he murmured softly, making his way to the bed. Without hesitation, he crawled up and nestled himself between your legs, his head resting comfortably on your stomach while his arms found their way around your waist, eyes closing as he let out a content sigh.

Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair, but something caught your eye. A glint of silver sat perfectly under his eye. Leaning closer, you saw it—a delicate butterfly kiss piercing.

"Jay…" you gasped. "When did you…?"

He didn’t answer, his lips twitching into a playful smirk, eyes still closed.

"Jay, are you seriously pretending to be asleep?" you laughed, lightly tapping his shoulder. "I see it! It looks amazing!"

He chuckled, eyes fluttering open, a proud sparkle in his gaze. "Surprise," he said with a grin.

You reached out, brushing your fingers over the piercing that sat so nicely on his cheekbone. It added a new layer of sexiness to his already gentlemanly persona, perfectly complementing his sharp features and deep eyes.

"It’s perfect," you whispered. "I can’t believe you got it."

Jay��s grin widened. "I wanted to surprise you. Thought it might make me look a little more… edgy."

"You look incredible," you assured him, cupping his cheek. "It adds this whole new vibe."

He leaned up to kiss your forehead before settling back down. "I got it because your designs are always inspiring. And I wanted something to remind me of you."

Your heart swelled, and you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "You’re the sweetest," you murmured.

He smiled, eyes closing again as he nestled back into you. "I think you’re the sweetest," he whispered.

And there, in the quiet comfort of your shared space, you lay together, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the rain softly tapping against the window.

JAKE : Smiley

You were lying on the couch, fingers gently drumming against your bare belly, absently playing with the dangling red gem of your navel piercing while a TV show played softly in the background. The front door creaked open, and you heard Jake’s familiar footsteps. He came home from classes, his bag slung over his shoulder and a faint trace of tiredness on his face, yet his eyes were bright with anticipation.

He dropped his bag by the door and immediately headed over to you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He settled down beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. You continued to focus on the TV, but you could sense him watching you closely, his eyes tracing over your belly and the gem that hung there.

“Hi love,” he said softly, his voice and signature Aussie accent pulling your attention away from the screen. You turned to look at him, and that’s when you noticed it—a glimmer of silver catching the light as he smiled wide. A smiley piercing, the delicate barbell glistening against his pearly white teeth.

You blinked, doing a double take as the realization hit. “Is that…?” you began, your voice trailing off in surprise.

Jake’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of mischief. “Yep,” he replied, leaning back slightly to give you a better view. “Got it today. Thought it’d be fun to surprise you. And, you know, I wanted to impress you a little,” he added with a playful shrug.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him, a mix of amusement and adoration bubbling up inside you. “It looks amazing,” you said, genuinely impressed. The piercing added a whole new level of sexiness and edge to his otherwise sweet, playful demeanor. It was such a stark contrast to his boyish charm—this little piece of metal that somehow made him look even more intriguing and attractive. It was like he’d unlocked a new side of himself, one that was daring and confident.

Jake’s cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, but he kept his gaze steady on you, his eyes filled with that starry, prideful look that made your heart skip a beat. “I got it because of you,” he admitted. “Your designs, your piercings…they’re so cool. I wanted to show you I can be cool too. Not just the ‘nice guy’ you always tease me about.”

You chuckled, reaching out to lightly touch the piercing with your fingertip. “Oh, Jake,” you murmured, your voice softening. “You’ve always been cool. But this? This just makes you…irresistibly cool.”

He beamed at your words, the glow of his smile making his new piercing shine even brighter. Leaning closer, he rested his head on your shoulder, his eyes still fixed on you with that same adoring gaze. And as you sat there, side by side on the couch, you realized that Jake, with his sweet smile and newfound edge, was even more captivating than ever.

SUNGHOON : Industrial

You were in the kitchen, humming softly to yourself as you prepared a simple snack. It was late, and the apartment was quiet, save for the faint sound of the refrigerator humming and the clink of utensils. You had just finished slicing some fruit when you heard the door open, followed by the sound of Sunghoon’s soft footsteps as he came home from his late class.

Before you could turn to greet him, you felt his presence behind you—a comforting warmth that enveloped you in an instant. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. He let out a content sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Long day?” you asked softly, leaning back into his embrace.

Sunghoon nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to the tiny butterfly tattoo on your exposed shoulder. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled as he nuzzled closer, as if trying to hide from the world. His hold on you tightened a little, and you could feel his heart beating steadily against your back.

Smiling to yourself, you set down the knife and turned in his arms, wanting to see his face and properly hug him. But Sunghoon kept his face buried in the crook of your neck, his arms remaining firmly around you. You chuckled softly at his shyness, gently running your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

It was then that you noticed something new—a shiny silver industrial piercing in his ear, peeking out from behind his dark hair. Two spiky studs glinted at either end of the bar, catching the light and drawing your attention.

Your breath hitched slightly as you took in the sight, your hand instinctively moving to touch the piercing. “Sunghoon,” you whispered in awe, your fingers grazing the cool metal. “When did you get this, baby?”

He finally lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze, his cheeks flushed with a faint blush. “Today,” he replied quietly, his voice still soft. “I… I wanted to try something new…”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart swelling with affection. “It looks amazing,” you told him, gently touching the piercing again. The industrial bar added a whole new level of sexiness and edge to his clean, prince-like coolness. It contrasted so perfectly with his usual composed demeanor, giving him a rebellious flair that only made him more captivating.

Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and shyness as he watched you admire his new piercing. “I was a little nervous about it,” he admitted, his lips curling into a small, bashful smile. “But I thought… maybe it’d suit me. And I wanted to impress you.”

You grinned, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you looked up at him. “Well, you definitely did,” you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. “It suits you perfectly, Hoon. You look incredible.”

His smile grew wider, and despite his initial embarrassment, he seemed to relax a bit, his gaze softening as he stared down at you with starry, prideful eyes. “Thanks,” he whispered, his hands still resting on your waist. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you assured him, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his cheek. “And I love you.”

Sunghoon’s blush deepened, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he held you closer, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered back, “I love you too.” And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have someone as wonderful as him by your side.

SUNOO : Nose

You stepped out of class, the crisp afternoon air brushing against your face as you scanned the crowd of students dispersing across the campus. It didn’t take long to spot Sunoo, waiting just outside with a bright smile on his face. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, and he immediately started walking over, his steps quick and eager.

Before you could even say hello, Sunoo pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you with familiar warmth. Then, with a playful grin, he leaned in and planted a quick, soft peck on your lips. It was so sudden and sweet that it made your heart flutter.

As you leaned back to look at him, you noticed something new—something shiny and sparkly catching the light on his nose. A small, glittering stud adorned his nostril, and it immediately drew your attention. You blinked in surprise, taking a moment to admire how the stud added a touch of sparkle to his already bright and cheerful face.

Sunoo’s cheeks turned a rosy pink, his shyness mixing with excitement. His eyes were wide and hopeful as he waited for your reaction, biting his lip nervously. “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with anticipation. “I got it because of you... I thought it might suit me.”

For a moment, you were speechless, just staring at him and taking in this new look. The piercing added a whole new level of mischievousness to Sunoo’s usual cute, soft image. It was unexpected and yet, somehow, it fit him. The sparkly stud seemed to enhance his playful nature, making his already captivating eyes look even brighter and more mischievous.

You smiled up at him, reaching out to gently touch the stud. “I love it,” you finally said, your voice full of admiration. “It looks amazing on you, Sunoo. It’s like…it adds this little hint of mystery and sass. You look so…different, but in a really good way.”

Sunoo’s face lit up at your words, a look of pure joy spreading across his features. He glanced down shyly, but there was no mistaking the pride in his eyes. “Good, thank you” he murmured, glancing back up at you with a playful wink. “I wanted to surprise you, and maybe show you a different side of me. Not just the cute Sunoo, you know?”

You chuckled, feeling a warm glow spread through you. “Well, consider me very impressed,” you replied, leaning in to give him another quick kiss. “You’re definitely full of surprises.”

Sunoo beamed, his hand finding yours as you started to walk together, side by side. And as you glanced over at him, admiring the way the sun caught the glimmer of his new piercing, you couldn’t help but think that Sunoo, with his sweet smile and new mischievous edge, was even more enchanting than ever.

JUNGWON : Lip Ring

It was late evening at the tattoo studio. The sun had dipped below the skyline, casting a soft golden hue through the windows. You were at your workbench, carefully cleaning up after a long day. The faint buzz of the tattoo machines had finally quieted, leaving a serene calm that settled over the room.

Jungwon had arrived only moments ago and was sitting quietly beside you, watching as you meticulously wiped down your equipment and organized your tools. His hands were folded in his lap, fidgeting slightly, a nervous energy radiating from him. You could feel his gaze on you, a mix of curiosity and something more lingering in his cat-like gaze.

As you reached for the last cloth, Jungwon shifted a bit closer. You glanced up briefly, catching his eye just as he quickly looked away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. You smiled, finding his shyness endearing.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, gently scratching your nose where a delicate shimmery stud twinkled.

Jungwon nodded quickly, but his eyes darted away again, clearly struggling with something on his mind. Before you could ask him what was bothering him, he suddenly leaned forward, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

You felt a cool, unexpected sensation brush against your skin, and when he pulled back, you saw the small, shiny glint of a new lip ring.

“Jungwon…” you breathed, touching your cheek where the kiss had landed. “Is that…?”

He nodded, looking a little sheepish now, but there was a proud glimmer in his eyes. “I got it today. Because of you. I wanted to match,” he admitted, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Your heart swelled at the thought, warmth spreading through your chest. “It’s beautiful,” you said, reaching out to gently touch the ring. “It suits you. Adds a bit of an edge to that perfect model student image of yours.”

He chuckled, a little self-conscious but clearly pleased by your compliment. You could see the nervousness still lingering, but there was also a newfound confidence in the way he looked at you, the way he sat just a bit taller, leaning back on his arms.

You found yourself leaning in, closer to him, until your noses almost touched. “Can I kiss you?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungwon’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching. But then he nodded, a quick, eager nod, his own breathless whisper escaping, “Yeah...”

You closed the distance, pressing your lips to his, and felt the cool metal of his new lip ring against your skin. It was a soft, sweet kiss, filled with a gentle warmth and the unmistakable thrill of something new.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were smiling, a shared glow in your eyes. Jungwon reached up, touching his lip ring again, before biting it gently. That was hot. A small, almost disbelieving laugh escaped him. “I can’t believe I did this,” he said, a mix of amazement and happiness in his voice.

You laughed too, giving him another quick peck on the lips. “I’m glad you did,” you said. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Jungwon’s smile widened, dimples prominent and he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I want to be a little more rebellious,” he confessed. “Just for you.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers gently tracing his jawline. “I’ll love whatever version of you, you decide to be,” you whispered.

As you both sat there, the quiet of the studio wrapping around you like a warm embrace, you knew this was a moment you’d never forget — the start of something wonderfully new.

NI-KI : Venom Tongue

It was a quiet night in your dorm's share house, your roommates asleep and the world outside settled into a deep, peaceful hush. You were lounging on your bed, working on some new tattoo designs, when you received a text from your boyfriend. It was typical of Ni-ki to be playful and mysterious, but tonight's message was particularly intriguing: "I have a surprise for you. Wait for me :)"

An hour or so later, while you were lost in your sketches, you heard a soft rustling by your bedroom window. Turning around, you saw Ni-ki’s grinning face peeking through the open gap. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly as he slipped through the window with practiced ease, landing lightly on the floor.

“Surprise!” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You motioned for him to come closer, your curiosity piqued. “Alright, look at these, then you can show me your surprise.”

Ni-ki plopped down on the edge of your bed, his playful demeanor never fading. As you laid out your designs for him, he took an enthusiastic interest, nodding and commenting on each and every one. But soon, his attention shifted from the sketches to you.

As you finished explaining your last sketch, your voice trailed off as Ni-ki pulled you gently but firmly between his legs, drawing you closer to him by the hips. Instinctively, you leaned down until you felt his breath against your skin as his lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss. The contact was electrifying, and the sensation of something cool and smooth brushing against your tongue caught you by surprise.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes wide with shock, Ni-ki’s smirk was positively devilish. He stuck out his tongue, revealing two shiny metal balls nestled perfectly in the center. The new Venom piercing gleamed under the soft light of your room, a stark contrast to his usual playful grin.

“You got a piercing?” you gasped, leaning in closer to examine the metal balls. “Just like my dimples?”

Ni-ki chuckled, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction as he tapped his fingers gently against the tiny studs in your lower back. “Yeah, inspired by you... Do you like it?”

Your heart raced at the sight. His new piercing was not just a bold choice but an edgy complement to his already wild personality. It was undeniably hot, the perfect blend of rebellion and charm.

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “It looks so good on you.”

Ni-ki’s grin widened, and he leaned in for another kiss, the metal of his piercing cool against your lips. The kiss was slow, sweet, and full of unspoken promises and you immediately knew kissing Ni-ki would quickly become your new favorite hobby. When he pulled back, his expression was a mix of satisfaction and affection.

“You know,” Ni-ki said, “I was a little nervous to show you… but it was worth it.”

You smiled, your fingers lightly tracing the metal of his piercing. “Well, you definitely nailed it. It’s perfect.”

Ni-ki’s laughter was soft and full of warmth. “I’m glad you think so. It hurt like a bitch.”

As you both sat there, wrapped in the intimacy of the moment, basking in hushed giggles and heated kisses, you couldn’t help but marvel at how Ni-ki’s new piercing was not just a rebellious addition but a symbol of your shared connection. It was a night filled with sweetness and a touch of daring, perfectly capturing the essence of your relationship.

[kamotecue]

the untold truth ✬ m. leon

pairing: mapi leon x fem!reader

summary: the truth that’s never been told, why’d you leave without saying goodbye.

part two of here.

as the children rushed to their mother with the bodyguards following behind, frido took a glimpse at mapi, who looked out of breath, flabbergasted even. the spaniard’s eyes has never left the queen who looked like she was in a hurry.

“why did you bow, frido?” mapi’s voice brought frido out of the gaze she was holding, a sigh had escaped frido’s mouth knowing that she’d have to explain.

“you don’t know who that was, do you?” the swedish was calm, her eyes were set to where you were, as mapi tilted her head in confusion—clearly there was something that she was missing, something she didn’t know.

“the children earlier, you had bumped into prince andres of sweden. his sister, crown princess astrid the one who’s hand you shook.” the center-back’s eyes had widened at the realization, while the swedish analyzed her teammate.

it’s been a day or two since the accidental encounter had happened, no one had suspected it was important—until it was affecting the playing style of a certain center back, the training had came to an end. but to those who were there that day had stayed at their respective cubbies.

“when i was a child, there was this girl i met at school—claimed that she was an exchange student from sweden. her name was or is y/n l/n.” mapi had looked at frido, as the swedish’s eyes realized something,

“it was her mother’s name, l/n.” fridolina commented, as everyone who didn’t know looked in confusion, or had their eyebrows raised.

“i was the first one to approach her, she was shy and quiet. maybe, it was the language barrier, but she turned out to be fluent in spanish.” the center-back chuckled at the memory.

“we became friends, i taught her football and she played on my high school team. i ended up falling in love with her, i just kind of hoped maybe she felt the same way.” mapi continued, as ingrid intertwined her hand with mapi.

“then, after graduation she just left.” the spaniard stuttered at the end of the sentence, “no goodbye, then that day at the beach—i saw her again, and apparently she has children.”

“did you say after graduation?” frido softly asked, as mapi gave her a nod.

“have you ever heard of the tragedy of the swedish royal family?” the rest had shook their heads, as ingrid’s eyes widened.

“is that what i think it is?” ingrid spoke, as frido gave her a little nod. the rest were in confusion, as mapi waited for one of them to speak, to explain.

“the downfall of sweden’s monarch, or better known as the tragedy of the swedish royal family—where the king and queen had been assassinated, not to mention their five children.” ingrid continued, as frido closed her eyes—it was a bad day for sweden. some had flinched at the revelation, as mapi sat their star-strucked.

“there was a whole week of mourning, but it was also the preparation for y/n—her highness to ascend the throne. she held her head high, listened to the people’s concerns, and did her duties without mourning her family.” frido finished, as everyone went quiet.

“i never knew.” was the sentence that broke everyone’s heart.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

stories left untold

18+, mdni.

been cooking up this one for awhile i hope y’all like it

readers can expect: fem reader, an established relationship: playful banter with big ‘ol boyfriend jason todd, flirting in a dressing room, car sex, fingering, unprotected penetration (reader is on birth control), a resulting creampie , tw mention and discussion of scarring, it ends a little angsty if you squint

your boyfriend, jason todd, loves literature.

but the only thing you read is him. as long as the two of you are dating, you’ll never want a book.

he’s covered in stories. the scars scattering his body tell you about his past, even if he might be hesitant to. but he humors you, relishes in the fluttery feeling of your delicate fingers all over his massive body.

and sometimes, he’ll tell you the story himself, if you’re lucky.

you’re straddling him, the couch cushions dipping under your knees. you’ve never talked about it, but you somehow always end up on his lap.

jason loves it, because he gets to study you up close, under the guise of you doing the same to him. his hands roam over your thighs and hips, his callouses creating friction against your smooth skin. having you on his lap grounds him, having you so close keeps him sane. you hum as you run a thumb over the scar on his lip, leaning down, kissing him.

“got that one fightin’ as robin-” he starts. you pepper his face with kisses, reaching his mouth again and cutting him off.

he smiles as he kisses you back, pinching your waist and making you squirm for interrupting him.

“as i was sayin’, i was up against some of two-face’s goons,” he continues. “two of ‘em, ironically enough—”

you kiss him again, biting his lip. he groans low in his throat, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“you gotta stop with that. let me finish.”

you shake your head, batting your eyelashes at him. he playfully rolls his eyes, and reaches his own hand up to your face to tug on your bottom lip.

“but i was up against two of ‘em, and while i had it under control, batman dropped in to help me,” he eyes you warily, leaning his head back.

you widen your eyes at him like a warning, a stupid grin on your face.

“but bats surprised me, and one of the goons took that opportunity to split my lip open. thanks a lot, guy, right?” jason pushes his lip out to show you the scar.

“the thing is, i wouldn’t have this scar without the element of surprise, which, in my line of work, is a crucial thing to be able to employ.” his thumb twitches where it’s resting on your waist.

before you know it, he’s spun you around and down, your back on the couch cushions that your knees were just pressed into. a smile plays on your boyfriend’s lips, making his scar dance. he lowers himself over you, flicking the button of your jean shorts open.

round one: you.

he’s following you around a department store as you look at clothes, his muscular forearm supporting the weight of all the clothes you’ve tossed his way.

he lumbers after you dutifully, just happy to be there.

some dude hits your shoulder as you walk past. it was pretty hard, but you don’t even think of it. it’s saturday, the mall is insanely crowded—you’re bound to get bumped into.

you glance back to make sure jason is still following you, but instead catch a glimpse of the daggers he’s staring at the man that shoved into you. you giggle to yourself, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and pulling him away.

he’s still glowering, even now in the perfume department.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say this is you pouting.” you stare at him pointedly.

“people need to watch where they’re goin’.” jason shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

“jay, i’m not some delicate flower.” you smile up at your boyfriend, linking his fingers with yours. he nods, agreeing. “but thank you for looking out for me. i love you.”

“love you too, princess.” his face softens as he gives you a little smile.

you pull up your intertwining hands to eye level. “now what about this one?”

his eyes flash as he realizes what you’re indicating. a scar snakes up the length of his index finger, white and defined against the tanned skin of his hand.

“paper cut.”

you’re in the dressing room now, your giant boyfriend sitting on a little stool next to the floor to ceiling mirror. you twirl, turning this way and that to see all angles of your reflection.

you turn to him, raising your eyebrows. he shakes his head, frowning at the deep blue dress you’re modeling.

you sigh, taking it off to toss it in jason’s face. he makes a choked noise, pulling the dress off of his head. he smirks at your lack of clothing, looking you up and down.

“oh, keep it in your pants,” you scoff, grabbing another dress off its hanger. “so, your finger?”

“bad paper cut.” jason deadpans as he puts the blue dress back onto its hanger.

you blink at him, surprised at the lack of story.

jason nods at you. “a really bad papercut.”

you make a face when you realize he’s bullshitting you.

“no, jay. really.”

he sighs, feigning annoyance. “so nosy!”

you shoot him a look before stepping into the dress, turning around so he can help you. he stands. his hand brushes your ass.

“jay.”

he chuckles under his breath, caught. “sorry, i couldn’t find the zipper.”

“riiiight.” you smile to yourself as he slowly pulls the zipper up your back.

he leans down, brushing your hair to one side.

he kisses your neck, sneaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. good thing, too. your knees would’ve given out with no support if he’d kept up the attention to your neck.

his eyes are on you in the mirror, hungry, tracing their way up your body in this dress. something nudges your ass, and you snuggle back into your boyfriend. he nips your earlobe. his other hand reaches up to your tit, finding your nipple through the fabric of the dress. it peaks at the feeling of his fingers, rolling the nub between his thumb and index. you let out a breath, and watch jason’s eyes darken in his reflection. the spot behind your legs starts throbbing. it sort of jolts you back into reality, and you turn out of jason’s arms. the look on his face makes you want to burst out laughing. you poke his stomach.

“jay, we’re in a dressing room!”

his eyes glint as he inclines his head, wrapping his arm back around you.

“your point?”

he pulls you flush to his body, and the two of you connect like puzzle pieces. you let out a breath at feeling his hard cock pressing into your stomach. you grab the collar of his shirt, and he leans his face down towards yours. he slants his lips, parting them with his eyes fixed on yours. you dodge him, giving him a little kiss on the nose. he harrumphs under his breath at being swerved, grumpy. you wrap your arms around his neck, batting your eyelashes at him.

“take us home?”

“sure thing, princess.”

you turn around so he can unzip you, and you watch him in the mirror. his lips are stretched into a smile. jason kisses your cheek as the deep red dress drops to the floor.

“so i’ll buy this one?” you ask as you put your clothes back on.

he’s got a hungry look in his eyes as he nods, running a hand through his hair.

you check out, your boyfriend tapping his card on the reader and flashing you a smile. the sales clerk is practically drooling. hey, you can’t blame ‘em, but still.

all jason can think about is the way you were looking at him in the dressing room.

he’s contemplating the logistics of installing a floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite his bed when you slide an arm around his waist. his arm automatically slings around your shoulders, and he presses a tender kiss to your hairline.

he grabs the bag from the cashier and your hand with his free one, leading you out to the car.

“baby, what?”

“what? jay, i didn’t say anything.”

“your body language is sayin’ plenty, princess.” he side eyes you, his lips pursed.

“the cashier was checking you out. like, pretty hard.”

jason grimaces as he unlocks the car.

“ew.”

he opens your door for you, closing it after you’re seated and buckled.

he gives you a quick kiss, starting the car. the sun is setting, painting the two of you in a soft, golden light. his hand finds your thigh like they’re magnetized, giving it a squeeze. seeing his fingers pressing into the smooth skin of your thigh reminds you of the conversation you’d been having.

“hey, jason?”

“hm?” he glances away from the road, gauging your expression.

“so what is that scar from?”

“i told you, princess, paper. it’s a paper cut.” the corner of his mouth is twitching, he can’t even keep a straight face.

“jay, oh my god.”

“if you must know, it’s from when i learned how to throw batarangs.”

he launches into the story as streetlights wink in and out of the windows, flashing through the car. his tale involves a much younger batman and a very stressed out alfred standing by with a med kit.

“i almost lost my finger.”

“you’re like, way too nonchalant about that.”

“psh, i’m nothing but chalant, baby.”

you giggle, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as he drives. he suddenly switches lanes, turning the car into an empty parking lot. he parks, turning the car off.

you look at your boyfriend, amused.

“you are so easy.”

he leans over the center console, pulling you into a deep kiss. he bites your bottom lip, sparking a fire in your lower belly. he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

“you can’t expect me to just sit here and do nothing when you play with my hair like that.”

“oh, so chalant.”

he scoffs, scooting his seat all the way back. “just get over here.”

thankful for nightfall, you unbuckle, climbing over the center console to straddle him. you make it onto his lap, feeling his rigid length even through the layers of fabric between the two of you. you cock an eyebrow, surprised he’s already fully hard. jason looks away sheepishly.

“you were bein’ a tease in the dressing room.” he cups your ass, squeezing. “help me out, princess?”

you nod, smiling and brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. a nearby streetlight sheds just enough light into the car, as he runs his hands up your thighs, you grinding your hips against the length between his legs. he groans, and you reach down to unbutton his pants. the wet spot in your underwear grows as he nips and sucks along your jaw. he kisses your neck, moving down to your collarbone as you scoot his pants down his legs. he tenses as you brush your hand along his cock, smiling up at him.

“hi, gorgeous.” he says, as he kisses you on the cheek.

“hi, jason.” you reply, looking up at him through your lashes.

your boyfriend suddenly grabs you by the waist, shifting you so that you’re turned around, facing the steering wheel. you make a surprised noise, repositioning on his lap to get your balance. jason groans in response, your ass flush to his crotch. you lean back against him as his hand makes its way under your waistband, brushing against the curls covering your sex.

“may i?” he whispers, his voice rumbling into your ear.

“mmhm,” you reply, desperate for some relief.

his other hand cups your tit, giving it a squeeze. the familiar calluses on his fingers brush your clit, sending a spark of pleasure through your body, but he goes lower, sliding two fingers along your entrance. he gathers the wetness, rubbing your aching folds. his fingers start working between your legs, rubbing your clit in the familiar rhythm he knows you like. you stifle a moan, the pace already bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“good thing i still have that finger.”

you can practically feel his smirk from behind you.

“oh, shut up.” you retort, shaking your head.

“well, since you asked so nicely.” he replies, punctuating the work of his fingers with kisses on your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. jason nudges your legs wider with his, opening the gap of your thighs to bracket his legs. he reaches into your underwear with his other hand, gathering slick on his middle finger.

“all good, princess?”

“yes, jay.” you peek up at him, smiling.

he kisses your forehead, holding eye contact as he slides his finger into your entrance. you moan at the intrusion, growing louder as he adds a second finger. all the while he keeps up his pace on that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“that’s right, beautiful. let me hear you.” jason kisses your shoulder, his fingers curling inside you, hitting just right.

you say your boyfriend’s name, causing him to pick up speed, groaning low in his throat. you feel his cock twitch under you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. you curl your toes, whining, as it all becomes too much, shuddering as the orgasm crests like a wave. your boyfriend continues working on your clit while you ride out your orgasm. you lean back against him, breathing heavily. he takes his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. he grabs your jaw, kissing you, his fingers wet against your skin. he leans down to take your shoes off, tossing them onto the passenger’s side. he pulls your underwear all the way off, hooking them around the stickshift. he loops an arm around your waist, lifting you off of him to shove his boxers and pants down to his ankles, exposing the muscles of his massive thighs. he sets you back down, and you rub your wetness against the length of his ruddy cock, his tip shiny with precum. jason hisses, his head falling back against the headrest, his eyes closed.

you smile, loving that no matter how often the two of you do it, his reaction is always the same. like he hasn’t been touched in years, like he’s been blessed by the powers that be to have this moment with you. jason peers down at you, his jaw clenching as you grind against him. he scoots down the seat, shifting, taking the liberty to turn you again. you face him, settling your hands on his shoulders. he swipes a thumb across your clit, and you hum, your thighs tensing.

“like that, princess?”

“uh-huh,” you reply, breathless.

“you want more?”

“obviously.”

your boyfriend chuckles at your response, pinching your waist.

“anything for you,” he replies, taking himself in his hand.

jason fists his cock, pumping once, twice, before grabbing your hips and angling you over his length. you suck in a breath as his tip opens your entrance, jason focused on giving it to you slowly, giving it to you so you can take it all. you fist a hand into the fabric of his t-shirt, catching a glimpse of his biggest scar, marring the path of hair from his belly button into the junction of his thighs. he’s never told you the story behind that one. but it’s a harsh reminder of how much your boyfriend’s been through, how hard he’s lived. but he’s still here with you, still here to have these moments with you. he pulls out, only to thrust back in, increasing the stretch. the slight squeeze of his hands on your waist only increases the pleasure, the feeling of being weightless in your boyfriend’s grip only furthers your need for all of him.

“please, jay?”

jason looks up in surprise, squinting at you. you’re not one to beg, and he’s usually not one to make you. he’d give you the world if he could.

“whatever you want, princess.” he slowly thrusts all the way inside of you, still wanting it to be comfortable for you. bottoming out, he groans, grabbing your thigh. “feel so good, baby.”

you hum in agreement, pulling yourself up to find the friction you’re looking for. your boyfriend gets the hint, placing one hand back on your hip, the other with a thumb at your clit. you moan at the sensation, jason picking up the pace. he doubts he’ll last long with how needy you’re being, needy for him, especially in this position. you lean forward into the hard planes of his chest, and his hands find your ass. thrusting into you, fucking you, hard. the wet sounds of skin slapping echoes out into his car, bouncing off of the fogged up windows.

“wet for me, huh, princess?” jason growls into your ear, driving into you harder.

you whine into the crook of his neck, a hand gripping at the hair on the back of his head.

jason grunts at the feeling, nipping and licking at the soft skin of your neck.

“‘m close, baby.” the rhythm he’s found is perfect for the both of you, the angle leaving you breathless.

jason’s thighs flex under you as he finishes inside you with a shout, groaning as he plants a warm kiss on your lips. you lean back, and his hand finds your clit again, circling the sensitive nub. he thrusts into you, hissing through his teeth. your back arches as your second orgasm rocks you, leaving you moaning and panting.

your boyfriend can’t take his eyes off of you, off of your fluids mixing on his cock. jason kisses you, swallowing your sounds as his tongue finds yours, swiping through your parted lips. he rubs your back as you nestle against him, the two of you breathing heavily.

round two: you.

some part of him, some deep, dark part, worries that one day he’ll tell you the story behind one of his scars, and it’ll scare you away. it’s not rational, he knows that, but who said anything about being rational?

you’ll never actually push him for a story, or an explanation, knowing he’ll tell you in his own time.

you doubt he’ll ever tell you the story behind his biggest scar, the one that runs up the length of his chiseled torso, branching off across his chest to his shoulders in a Y shape.

once when you were laying in bed together, talking, cuddling, kissing, you traced it with your fingertip, following the line of it down to his waistband. you stopped when he drew in a breath, pulling your hand back. the acute pain expressed in his eyes surprised you.

you tried to apologize, eyebrows pinched, wondering why he looked like he was in pain when the scar was long healed.

jason was panicked, his heart fluttering behind his ribcage at the prospect of confessing his biggest secret to you. he couldn’t tell you, even though he knows he should. he wouldn’t even know where to start, even though he knows he should at least start somewhere. he just wouldn’t know how to tell you that he’d died and come back to life.

so he kissed you instead.

your mind rushed with thoughts as you wrestled with making him explain or letting him distract you with his lips, his body over yours, his huge forearms bracketing your head. he nudged your legs apart with his knee and you were hopeless.

round three: jason.

[ghouldump]

Oh my goodness I’m so used to writing kind of forgot how to request?? would love a fic with Armand where he reveals his true nature not the soft version that he shows the reader but what he doesn’t and how she responds to that happy ending possibly?

I just need more Armand please and thank you

🎀💕🌸

Beautiful Deception, Untold Truth | Armand x Reader

ෆ remembering the truth sometimes hurts, but perhaps love will prevail

your request immediately made my mind go to beautiful deception, so i hope you don't mind me twisting that story a bit. so happy to be back writing, enjoy! xoxo

Waking up, you lightly groaned, looking over at Armand. He slept soundlessly, his arm loose around your waist. Slipping away from his grasp, you climbed out of bed and quietly made your way into your private office.

A large desk, a swivel chair, an up-to-date desktop, and a few wall decorations — although, you both preferred the minimalist scenery. Clearing your throat, you sat in the chair, rubbing your temples. Opening the drawer, you stared at the envelope, sent from Daniel Molloy.

‘I’ve done some digging, and I found something I thought you might enjoy,’ the note said, attached to the envelope.

Pulling the photos from inside, you had examined each one over a thousand times, since getting them a few weeks back. Older photos of you and Philip, some from your short time at the Grand Cabaret, a few random photos from your time in Paris, and your wedding photo. You remembered the day so vividly, your mother had been so angry, but you were delighted to be marrying him. You looked like a princess, and he, a prince. You could recount times people praised how beautiful of a pair you were together.

“You couldn't sleep?” Armand asked, standing at the door, making you jump.

“No,” you shook your head, laying the photos face down.

“Perhaps I should’ve cuddled you better,” he said lowly, peering at you.

“You were perfect, I guess I’m a little anxious about the book,” you said, as you began to put the photos away, a small note catching your attention. On the back of the wedding photo was written, try to remember your last night.

“There is nothing for you to stress about if anything, they will critique Daniel’s repetitive usage of the word, monster,” he said, watching as you slipped the envelope back into the drawer, accepting his hand. Grinning, he brought your fingers to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each knuckle.

“I love you,” you whispered, as he led you back into the dim bedroom.

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” he said, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You don't know that”

“I’d burn the world down, and build it back up, to prove my love for you,” he said, smirking as you raised an eyebrow.

“And I would be by your side if it took an eternity,” you told him.

“I know, come now, you need your beauty sleep,” he said, watching as you climbed into the king-sized bed, before following suit.

Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed your forehead, as you closed your eyes, allowing sleep to embrace you, and welcome the deep slumber.

“Remeber your last night”

“Daniel?” you sat up, confusedly looking around, but were met with utter darkness. Armand was nowhere to be found, your penthouse, both gone. Standing up from the bed, you fell into a pit of nothingness. Screaming, you flailed around, grasping at the void. Falling onto the cushion, you sighed in relief.

“Y/n, remember your last night,” you heard again.

“What-

Sitting up, you froze as you stared at…you, or what looked like you. At the small desk, you wrote a letter, a few tears slipping from your eyes. Suddenly, it dawned on you, the night you were turned into a vampire. Your last night alive. It was only a few more moments before-

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

"Philip?"

You stood from the bed, watching him. It seemed like they couldn't see you, as you analyzed the situation.

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

"Baby, please, I won't...just let me explain," he said, opening the manila folder.

"It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you. You were going to have an entire page. My thoughts- I can’t explain how, but my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I can hardly think. Before I knew it, everything I wrote always ended up on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone"

"You came to see me perform?"

"Always, this is your dream, and I will always support you, I promised," he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

Rubbing your temple, it was like a memory was unlocked. He had come to your second show, the loudest voice and clapping in the audience, as he let everyone know the beautiful star was his wife. However, before you could ever see him, you would become distracted, talking with Armand — who brought along the extravagant bouquet of flowers.

"This man, he has come to nearly every show, since you’ve started working there. Front row, bringing you flowers," he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around your waist, his lips pressed against your own.

"Philip-

"Just listen," he shook his head, stopping you.

"I went to his theater, to confront him, to be a man and win my wife back, when I found this, in his office," he pulled out more photos.

"He has been watching you since we arrived here, from the moment you stepped off that ship, there are photos of you. Then, I searched around, and what I found is incredibly disturbing. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings," he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

"I think he has been getting in my head, he can’t possibly be a normal human. Since I began to suspect him, I've felt like another person is living inside of me," he said, wiping his tears, going to his knees, laying his head in your lap.

"I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, I could hear the screams of all of those monster. We have to leave, now, we can go home, beg your mother for forgiveness, have a start fresh, leave all of this behind," he stressed, standing up.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the ship. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Watching all of this unfold, you were trying to not accept what your memories were telling you. Armand wasn't the type to mess with someone’s head unless they pushed him to that point of anger. However, he had shared what his gifts entailed, and it was all seemed very familiar.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the most horrifying glare set on Philip.

“Armand, stop it,” you said, but he couldn't see you, walking towards the you of the past.

"Armand?" you called his name, hesitantly.

"Y/n, run," Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

"Philip-

"Run, now," he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

"Run," Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

“You’ll never have her, you think she’ll love you when you're a monster” Philip choked up blood. Your hand went to your mouth, as the tears filled your eyes.

“She’s already mine,” Armand said, before setting Philip on fire.

Turning to run out of the apartment, it didn't take long to see yourself limping, barefoot, sprinting toward the small store.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he killed him, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me," you cried, shaking your head.

"Shh, shh, there is no need to cry," he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

"Why did you kill him?"

"Because he married you," he admitted.

"What are you?"

"A vampire," he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

"They weren't acting," you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

"Not at the end, no," he confessed. Wrapping his arms around you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly. Following behind them, you wanted nothing more than to wake from whatever this was, to question Armand.

Lifting into the air, you gasped in fear, realizing he was floating, no flying. Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head. As your feet came from off of the ground, you flew behind them, to the museum building.

"We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the ship. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams with no plan, so l sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are," Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

"I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?" he asked, his eyes drowning in melancholy.

"He was my husband, he didn't have much, but I loved him," you cried.

"He wouldn't have given you the opportunities you can have, that you deserve. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised"

"You killed him," you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you. Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn’t remember him having that reaction.

"Y/n, I love you, I love you more than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I can give you the eternal gift, lavish you, treasure you, why can't you see, has your love for me left so quickly?" he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart hadn’t turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping the tears from your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

As frustrated as you were with him, seeing the situation to be a little more tainted than you thought to be — his confession warmed your heart. After witnessing him gruesomely kill Philip, something you didn't remember, you knew the beginning of your beautiful companionship was soon to com-

“I could never love you, after all you've done,” you said, crying. Your eyes widened, where was this coming from? Then you realized, could this be the truth, had you forgotten what truly happened?

“As beautiful as you are, you are a foolish girl,” he said, his hand going to your throat.

“Philip was right, you are a monster,” you struggled to speak, as his hand pressed against your throat.

“I hand-picked you, I chose you over hundreds of ancient vampires, to be worthy of my love, and you want to throw it away over one human? Don't be pathetic,” he said, through his teeth, you could see the tears building up in his eyes, the angry expression set on you.

“I’d rather die,” you spat, making him scoff, releasing you to fall from the top of the museum. Turning away as you screamed, reaching to clutch the air, a single tear fell from his face. Holding your hand on your chest, you cried, screaming at Armand, unable to believe this was what happened, but as time went on, it became more evident that it was true.

Just as you jumped in hopes of trying to save yourself, Armand flew off the building, down to you. The flowers in the extravagant garden broke only a bit of your fall, but couldn't stop the fatal landing. Lying in the rose garden, a few thorns pressed into your skin, your breathing was shallow, as your blood painted the white rose red. Attempting to shake your head as Armand approached you.

“What have you done?” You cried, staring at yourself, this version of you felt unrecognizable, yet undeniable.

“Leave me,” you said, your breath ragged, blood leaking from your mouth, but he ignored your words, lifting you into his arms.

“I can’t let him have you in this life and the next,” he cried, the fangs coming out.

“No, no, p-please, Armand,” you struggled, crying from pain and refusal, if vampires were anything like the stories — they could turn humans into their kind.

“Look at me,” he said, caressing your cheek, as you shut your eyes, you would rather wait for death to collect your soul than join him.

“Y/n, look at me,” he commanded, you couldn’t believe your eyes, he had used his gifts against you.

Opening your eyes, you faced him, as he caressed your cheek. “You have no need to fear me, we will soon be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel. You won’t remember what happened tonight, but I will explain to you later. Your love for Philip was not genuine, nothing more than a childish passion. I may be a monster, but I love you. Centuries, I have walked this earth, hundreds of years, of yearning and desiring what was mine. I hate him, and I would kill him a million more times if it meant having this moment with you,” he said, a few tears slipped from your eyes, as you stared hypnotized.

"This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it," he told you, softly pecking your lips. Leaning down, he hovered over you, as his fangs sank into your neck.

Falling to your knees, your hands went to your face, and just as you cried out, you fell through the ground. Except instead of slipping into the dark abyss, you sat up, back in your bed, alone. The windows open, as the moonlight shined. Climbing out of bed, you grabbed your phone and rushed to your office.

“Miss Y/n, your meals-

“Get away from me,” you shrieked, shutting yourself in the office. Dialing Daniel’s number, you paced the floor, stopping to grab the envelope from the drawer.

“Y/n?” Daniel answered, surprised by the unexpected call.

“I remembered, everything, like you told me too, I married a him, after what he has done,” you cried.

“I’ll catch the soonest flight out there, just, try not to kill him,” Daniel said, sounding exhausted, before ending the call.

Sitting down, you opened the envelope, pulling out the photos to stare at. Suddenly, the door opened, and Armand entered.

“You didn't want to eat-what is the matter?” his face softened, taking in your face, puffy and stained with dry blood.

“Stay away from me,” you stood, backing away, as he looked confused.

“Did something happen? Did you have a nightmare-

“I don’t even know who you are,” you shook your head, as he slowly approached you.

“Love-

“You couldn’t stand the thought of him having me in life and death,” you said, realizing crossing his face.

“Y/n, angel-

“No, how many times have you had me forget, changed the story, made me into your brainless pet,” you said, backing away from him.

“I know, and if I could go back and change it, then I would-

“But you can’t Armand, you killed my husband-

“I am your husband-

“You killed my first love, and killed me after,” you said, making him stop in his tracks.

“I love you, Y/n, and I’m sorry for my actions,” he shook his head.

“Get out, I don’t want you back here until Daniel arrives,” you screamed.

He stared at you for a moment, before nodding in acceptance. Backing away, he glanced at you once more, before he left the penthouse.

“Daniel, thank you for coming out,” you said, embracing him. He was taken by surprise before he slowly began to rub your back. You weren’t dressed in your usual extravagant fashion, wearing bland loungewear.

Opening his mouth to speak, he stopped as the headache was coming back. Turning his head, he met eyes with Armand who stood in the entrance.

“I appreciate this, the readers deserve the truth,” you told him, before you turned your head, looking to Armand.

“Y/n-

Ignoring him, you walked to the table in the study, watching as Daniel took out his laptop and notebook. Armand followed behind slowly, sitting across from you.

“Y/n’s memories were suppressed and changed by her maker and companion, Armand. As of 48 hours ago, she has remembered everything from that night,” Daniel spoke into the recorder.

“Armand, is there anything you want to say…” Daniel continues.

“Five hundred years, I’ve wandered, loving others, but never receiving that same love. I admit, that my past has stunted my empathy toward humans. If I wanted something, I knew to take it and you were no different. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew, I would love you forever and unconditionally. As much as I desire your forgiveness, I will not force it. I ask that you remember after you were turned, our first hunt together, first time making love, our matrimony,” he said, his gaze focused on you, as the tears built up in his eyes.

“How different is your reality, from what you were told?”

“He was…unfamiliar and gruesome. He had been in Philip’s head for months, before it happened,” you said, turning your head. You couldn’t stomach talking about it, let alone looking at Armand — who couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Now that you are aware of what is true, has future changed? Do you see Armand still being a factor in your life?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, as he widened his eyes, staring between you and Daniel.

“You don’t know? Perhaps a legal separation or divorce-

“Divorce? Y/n, none of this is necessary, love,” Armand interrupted.

“You set Philip on fire, and threw me from the top of a museum-

“I didn’t throw you”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you let go after I called you a monster,” you replied harshly.

“Why did you do it, Armand?” Daniel asked.

“I was angry, it isn’t an excuse, but I was. He- Philip had burned down the theater, and the woman I loved, sided with him. I let her go, but the thought of her being with him again, I detested, when I needed her. My piece of humanity, only hours with her, left my cold heart feeling more alive than it ever was. When she hit the ground, I heard her bones break, her crying, it shattered what was left of my soul. I couldn’t believe what I had done to my angel, I had to turn her. I am sorry, but making you my fledgling, I will not apologize for, you are my greatest creation,” he shook his head, looking away as a tear fell.

“I need a moment,” he continued, standing to leave, as Daniel paused the recorder.

“How are you?” Daniel asked, hesitantly. You sat stiff but upright.

“My heartbeat is synced with his, he has been all I’ve known for almost a century, I just…don’t get it,” you said, accepting the Kleenex from Daniel.

“On your blog, you explained how ruthless the vampires were and how he seemed different, ‘Armand was my shield, he was feared by many, and being his companion, I was safe’,” he quoted.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“And suppose you forgot that he was a vampire of that time, he too was just as heartless, if not perhaps more. I mean, he had done a fair share of generosity, but it was all for personal gain”

“I don't understand what you're saying Daniel,” you told him.

“I am simply trying to break down every perspective of this story”

“You were having an emotional affair with him, while he pulled the strings behind the scene, sounds like something he'd do. I just have to ask, what hurt your worst, was it him killing Philip, or killing you?” he asked. Opening your mouth to speak, you stopped as Armand entered the room, keeping his eyes down. Pressing play on the recorder, Daniel cleared his throat.

“We left off with Armand’s excuse, although, he didn't explain why he wiped and changed Y/n’s memory. Would you like to elaborate on that?” Daniel asked him, making him glare at him. Groaning, he held his head, feeling another wave of the terrible headache.

“Stop it,” you yelled at him, catching him by surprise, before he put his head down.

“If she didn't remember, then we could pick up where we left off. As monstrous as it seems, it was very simple. My hatred and jealousy for him was far too strong, it was bound to come to pass. I apologize, Y/n, you did love him very much. I just ask that you would look past all of this and see that you were and will always be my angel,” he said before he walked away.

“Armand, you can't just- and he's gone. Armand has left the penthouse, and no longer wants to discuss what happened,” he said, before pausing the recorder.

“Continuing where we left, what hurt worst?”

“I-I don’t know, I would say him letting me go, he was my haven, and to just release me. The look on my face, as I screamed, reaching for him, I was so afraid,” you stated, as he quickly made a small note.

“Are you able to continue tonight?” he asked, setting the pen down.

“Of course, I will be fine,” you nodded, as he pressed play on the recorder.

“Now that you remember your concealed memories, start from where they had been changed”

“I was writing a letter…”

Waking up, you lightly groaned, looking over at the bare space. Your undead heart ached at the lack of his presence, despite your anger towards him. Two weeks had come and gone, the longest you had been away from each other, and as concerning as it may have been, you missed him, dearly.

Sluggishly climbing out of bed, and leaving the room, you couldn't remember the last morning you had been asleep, or the night you’d been awake. Raising an eyebrow at how chaotic the house staff seemed, you tried to think of what made today special.

“What is going on?” You said, stopping a staff member.

“I-for you miss,” the young girl said, directing you to the folder on the nearby table.

“This is a will…” you frowned, staring at the paper inside.

“Yes, from Armand, I believe he left a note,” she nodded, hesitantly. Flipping through the pages, your frowned deepened, skimming the contents. All of his assets going to his spouse, you. Just as you were about to question his motives further, you noticed the small note against the folder.

My angel, a star I thought was only meant for my stage when in reality, you are worthy of much more. Selfishly, I have sheltered you away, when you shine brightly. This time away, although agonizing, has given me a chance to think. There are no excuses I have for myself, I have found myself guilty, and I will deliver justice for you. To experience only a small amount of pain I have caused you is all I can lastly do for you in my final moments. You have made me feel more alive in our century than when I was mortal. I’ll love you in this life and the next, Armand.

Your fingers traced his unique cursive handwriting, as the bloody tears hit the paper, smearing the ink. It looked and felt fresh. Despite being so angry with him, you didn’t want this for him. He had done heinous things, but no vampire was innocent, and you still loved him.

“Do you know where he is?”

“I believe he may be on the roof,” she said, her eyes widening as you rushed out of the penthouse. The sun was set to rise shortly, and you had to get to him quickly.

Anxiety crept up from the depths of your stomach as you ran to the rooftop. Your time in Paris flashed across your mind. First meeting him, the terror as he murdered Philip, the first time he brought you flowers, the fear as you learned that he was a vampire, your first kiss, the pain caused by his fangs as he made you into his fledgling. He consumed your mind and you didn't know if you could take losing him.

“Armand,” you yelled, as you rushed outside.

“Has this view always been this beautiful?” he asked, his back to you.

“Come inside, Armand,” your breath hitched as he faced you. His beautiful stained with dry blood.

“I hurt you,” he said, disgust flashing across his face.

“I know, but you’ll hurt me again if you do this,” you told him.

“Releasing you from my grasp is what you need most,” he said, as you anxiously watched as the sun inched close and closer.

“What I need is for you to come inside with me, now,” you yelled at him, tears pouring from your eyes.

“Go inside-

“If you won't come along, then I will stay,” you argued.

“Y/n, don't be absurd”

“I forgive you, is that what you want to hear? It was a stupid mistake almost a century ago and if you can't accept that, then we will meet the sun together,” you said, as the sun began to move up your legs.

“Please, Y/n”

“No, I will not leave you to burn-

Armand hissed as the sun moved up his arms, but as it came across your skin, you immediately screamed. It burned, it was excruciating. In an instant, Armand had you in his arms, bringing you inside the building.

“I’m sorry,” he comforted you, examining your arms, as he held you close.

“Don’t go,” you cried.

“I won't,” he reassured you.

“Make me forget-

“No-

“Just once more, I’d rather oblivion than another moment of this mental warfare”

“I am sorry”

“I know,” you said, as he lifted your head, to meet his eyes, as he began to wipe your memories.

“Let me get this straight, you're recanting everything you told me?” Daniel yelled over the phone.

“Yes, I would like to keep the original story, Daniel, I will be sure to reimburse you for the inconvenience”

“Where is this coming from? What happened to the readers knowing the truth?”

“The truth is subjective, depending on who is reading will determine what they think is true. I will be in contact soon, bye now,” you said, ending the call.

“Daniel wasn't very happy with me,” you pouted, accepting the champagne glass, filled with blood.

“He will get over himself,” Armand said, as his hand wrapped around your waist.

“I suppose, I still feel bad I’ll have to make it up to him,” you said, leaning into his chest, as you both stared off into the beautiful lights of Dubai.

“Perhaps and what would you like to do about his gifts?” he said, motioning to the stack of old photographs.

Glancing over that the wedding photos, you picked up the only picture that included your mother and brother. Turning back to the window, the stack caught ablaze, crumbling into ash. Armand tensed up at the action, but you turned to face him, kissing his cheek.

“I love you”

“Not nearly as much as I love you”

“Oh but I think I do”

“Really now?”

“I think I could show you better physically, than with words,” you said, lust clouding your eyes.

“After you, angel,” Armand smirked, as you held his hand, leading him to your shared bedroom.

Guilt lingered at the back of Armand’s mind. He was inherently selfish, it was his prerogative — but you were the same. You didn't even realize you were just as messed up as him. You preferred having your memory wiped than to recognize the monster he was. The truth, your past, and death would remain untold, as you accepted your perfect life with Armand — your companion and maker, a beautiful deception.

a/n: guys, it feels so weird posting again lol, i enjoyed my break, but i missed writing on here so much!

[acontrariis]

the prelude.

pairing. Aemond Targaryen x OC word count. 1.3k warnings. mention of miscarriage and death.

summary. Aemond Targaryen never intended to marry, much less fall in love. But fate has a way of flipping a coin, rewriting the stories we thought were set in stone. Bound by a union neither expected, Aemond and Vienna will navigate through the treacherous sea of love in hopes they might just be strong enough to defy fate. In a world where history is written by the victors, "Veiled in Fire" reveals the untold story of a love that could change everything.

History remembers names. 

Rather, whoever’s writing it does. Little does anyone say about the ones that got lost in time. Patches of ink on crumpled paper that have been turned to ashes. 

Pieces of a forgotten past. Buried under the retellings of a deceitful memory.

After all, only those who win get to tell the stories. 

Teach the lessons. 

Erase the failures. 

This is what this story is, a recollection of failures . The black sheeps of the family. The little branch that got cut from the tree. The letters that were burnt. The passages only some knew and even fewer remember. 

This is a journey through the cracks, the secret tunnels that threatened the perfect foundation we now stand on. The remnants of a life that grows in the fissures.

For all it takes is a single ray of sunlight to bring us back to life. 

⸺

Our story begins a few years in the near past. 

History books tell us that Viserys I Targaryen’s reign was decided at the Great Council of 101 A.C. Having yet to produce a male heir, Daemon Targaryen was the closest heir the King had. A young, wild and hot-headed man, unsuited for the throne. 

The two brothers served as two sides of a coin, night and day, the heirs of the Targaryen Household. 

However, what most ignore is the thin line of blood wiped from the records, a reckless child, the third brother, Daeron Targaryen. It is said that with his birth, he took what little life was left of Princess Alyssa. Hated by his father and resented by his brothers, the child grew prone to aversion and hostility. Those who knew him would whisper of the Prince’s indiscretions. 

A privileged child, who had everything but his family’s love. 

From a young age, the little Prince showed excellence in all areas. A lover of arts and a skilled swordsman. 

Perhaps the previous statement should be corrected, he was excellent in all areas that could be taught .  

A quick learner that despite his talents, was not blessed with the natural gifts a Targaryen should possess. 

Perhaps the only true gift his blood had given him, along with the white hair and amethyst eyes, was madness and, as he stared at the egg that never hatched, this one only worsened. 

As he grew, the main pleasures of his life came from sex and death. He controlled the powerless in a way he wished to control his own fate. 

Once he was old enough, he made it his goal to know the Seven Kingdoms. Never staying in one place for a long time, his days passed in a constant turmoil. 

A maid once heard him say if he stayed still for too long, the voices would surely eat him inside. So he kept moving, an enemy to silence and a lover of chaos. It is said he rivaled his brother Aemond in mischief. 

Daeron’s life was a constant loop, a whirlwind of emotions overflowing the body of an unstable young man. 

In a makeshift throne, at the heart of the harvest celebrations, the young Prince was said to meet his match. 

Time stops in the eye of the hurricane. 

Ebony hair reflected the red fire that engulfed her movements.  White pearly teeth shining under the veil of a golden mask, accompanied by deep black orbs that swallowed his soul. 

Elaena. 

Her name came like a prayer, a sip of water to a dying man. 

⸺

Five springs their love bloomed in a long forgotten castle, neighbors to House Arryn on the eastern lands.

Devoted and faithful, their eyes only saw each other and knew no one better than the other. 

Despite the insistent disapproval of the family, the lovers married soon after that first night. 

The Prince was said to happily adjust to married life. Leaving his wandering days in the past, he committed himself to the newfound happiness he had so desperately craved. 

Their days were filled with a peace that came from building a life together.

As their household bloomed with love, it was not to say it didn’t suffer its own hardships. 

Many losses were suffered through the years, the Princess agonizing cries ringing through the castle walls as yet another life was lost. 

Some thought it was a curse, “Perhaps the Princess is not meant to bear children”, the Maesters would say. 

Still, despite the Prince's protests and fears, the new Princess’ attempts didn’t waver. She wanted to give him a family, she would say. 

He deserved that . 

A dried up egg arrived from the Red Keep, as a final effort was attempted.

This time, a Priestess was called. An old friend from another life. 

Seeing the fragile state of the Princess, her first thought was to terminate the pregnancy as soon as possible. The only thing that refrained her from expressing it was the hopeful look on Elaena’s face. 

The once rosy cheeks now hollowed and pale served as proof of the pain she was desperately trying to hide inside. Her swollen belly was too big for her worn out body and yet she caressed it with such devotion, one might think her a saint.

It is said the Prince became a shell of what he once was, consumed with worry and fear for his wife, he would not leave her side if he could help it. It took a nudge and a sleeping remedy for the women to have some privacy. 

There are some things, in a marriage, one must keep from the other. 

Whether that is to protect them or to protect themselves, that is of little importance when dealing with the consequences, which is why the Priestess didn’t flinch when hearing the Princess’s confession. 

- “I won’t live much longer, and neither will my husband.”

A blood curse is not easily, if ever, truly broken, for there’s no curse more twisted than love. 

On the third night of a cold winter night, a black haired babe was born with wine colored eyes, shining full of life as her cries echoed through the castle. And as her father had done before, her birth sealed their parents fate, for the hex was impossible to crack.

The pale complexion of the Princess covered in sweat, showing something close to a smile.

The Priestess, Marmee, held Elaena’s hand in hers, as the latter silently cried, her strength long gone. 

- “I will take care of your child. Whatever the course, I swear to look after her.” 

A promise.

A vow. 

A sentence. 

The Princess’ cries, begging for forgiveness and regretting making their daughter an orphan, echoed through the castle.

Three nights the new Mother bled, the pain driving her to delusions. Her husband held her through it all, and by the time her last breath was exhaled, with it went his. 

For their lives have been joined as one, as only true lovers could be. 

At last, as the couple held each other, their final goodbye was lost in the cries of their newborn child.

⸺

The bards would sing of the Prince’s madness. 

Tired of his brothers’ mistreatments, he took out the rage on those weaker than him. His wife, an unfortunate victim. 

Stories tell they killed each other in a fit of rage, the witch, tired and resentful, made sure that was the last bruise he put on her face. With a dagger in hand, the desperate wife launched her attack, the precise aim of a killer striking the vital points of her lover. 

It is said the wench, covered in the warm blood of her husband, took the knife to her neck, bidding one last farewell to the crying infant in the crib. 

⸺

Rumors said an egg was stolen from a baby's crib. Blacker than the night sky, covered in amethyst jewels, the unclaimed dragon from the hatched egg was a vision in itself. 

Many tried to tame it, their flesh served as fuel for the creature to grow, forever without a rider.

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[zelinkcommunity]

Zelink Community is highlighting... @nocturnalfandomartist!

"I'm working towards becoming a game designer, but in the meantime I write and draw Zelink! I love making fan-game ideas and sketching them out."

Check out some of their work:

A Dance with Danger... Echoes of Wisdom artwork based on the trailers.

Our Little Secret Telma is going through the motions of running her tavern, as usual, and finds a familiar customer. This familiar customer, however, has brought an unexpected guest… And she just can’t figure them out!

The Princess's Heart (Zelink Week 2024) A fairytale told in Hyrule, set in a forgotten age of the golden queendom. Passed by word of mouth from queen to princess, it is a tale of sacrificial love, hope, and determination.

Find Them on Social Media:

@nocturnalfandomartist also has other creative blogs on Tumblr under @loz-untold-myths and @writingnocturne. You can also find them on Twitter/X at @/nocturneartist!

Have something nice to say about Nocturne and/or their work? Drop a comment or send them an ask!

[r3n0-5]

A The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time Poem

Oh Great Deku Tree! Of this kid you should take care Through his blood the destiny runs A hero of Hyrule was born

The forest its secret kept Sacred as the friendship that was made She saved nothing but the hope That in the future they’d encounter through the notes

The castle was not far away Slipped through its gates like a child’s game Patiently, the princess spoke To the hero the story untold

Some greed as darkness could be sensed A red-haired man inside the castle grinned Chasing the princess, he did not thought That his time of giving up one day would come

Seven years trapped in a dream Only to see the evil forces had turned the skies gray The desires of old friends lived on With the melodies of the ocarina the princess threw

Traveling time, wishing to save What Hyrule once used to mean Armed with sword, the hero Mounted his horse to retrieve the Triforce back home

Crossing the forest, the fire, and the water, as the masked man said The enemies soon by the Master Sword disappeared And as the hero the temple stood, the sages woke So the mysterious man his face showed

It was the princess who was behind the mask, indeed Revealing what the true nature of the red-haired man would bring At that time, she did not know That Ganondorf himself was there all along

The final battle came without a prelude Fought two times like an adult The hero felt the victory close As clear as the crystal the princess couldn’t escape from

With courage, he and the sages freed The princess and Hyrule from the death Leaving the crumbling castle, they saw The end of Ganondorf as we know it

Childhood is where the sweetest memories remain A link to the past must be made To make this knowledge flow along The cruel times that could be saved by the right chords The castle was not far away Slipped through its gates like a child’s game Patiently, the princess saw The hero save Hyrule once more

[ijustwantogethigh]

good evening, a request please, from apollo x reader poseidon (the reader is percy's half-sister, she arrived at the camp at the same time as him) the reader danced with the nayades in the river while apollo

He fell in love when he saw her dance (like Poseidon with Host), or when I can write you, there is no pressure or anything, I apologize if it is not understood, I use a translator

HEY ANON! thank you for requesting, I tried, but it was a long time ago since I read a Percy Jackson's book,so it took time bc I re-read the book to be more accurate it's a little OOC, I hope you don't mind,and i put more things to not make it too short so I love u for using the translator thank you!

Poseidon!Daughter reader x Apollo

dam jokes..A lot, Percy's nickname for reader is blobfish, she is 16 and Apollo..Yeah more than 15000 /it's Apollo not Lester my friend/ Apollo nicknames y/n as ASTERI that's star in Greek♥

Sunrise 𝓐pogeum.

It's been two weeks since the Manhattan war ended, and everything was fine, campier doing his chores, some others packing for the next summer ready to go home, he was standing next to Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the new Oracle, now he was complaining her to rest in the spare room in the big house, Rachel was pretty.

but not pretty as y/n, the gorgeous Demigod alive, if she wasn't a Poseidon child, will mistake her as a Aphrodite Daughter, her hair shine with the sun, her brownish-tanned skin, Kissed by the sun, her melodious voice!, he was so down for her, but she still was a demigod, and gods and demigods did not mix together but it is not like Apollo cares right?…right?.

Rachel was resting now, he come back outside, walking through it was the camp, when he saw her, again, the first time both meet, was during the war, she was undoubtedly angry, her hands bloody, and even a big cut in the side of her cheek probably will left a scar, she didn't take care of it, she fought side-to-side with him.

but she didn't even notice, now she was dancing dancing with a group of nayades in the lake, he felt so odd, she moved like swan, she was obviously wet, a beautiful girl,he felt like enchanting her to make her his wife, make her an immortal demigod, he was in love from a demigoddess, the Nayades feeling his predatory gaze against the girl, covers her, and the god leaves, not seeing his girl anymore, he gets bored.

Monday!

But he didn't let it die until this day, he left a poem for her, stick in the back of a mirror, with little seashells on the edge of it, and it was blue.

''In golden rays where shadows play, A sunlit heart beats bold and Bright, He casts his warmth upon the shore, While waves embrace their ancient lore. A daughter of the ocean's grace, With laughter bright, she weaves her space, Her spirit dances in a sea-like swirl, Unknowing of the sun that longs to twirl. He paints the sky with hues of fire, While she swims deep, lost in desire, The tides of dreams pull her away, From the warmth of love that seeks to stay. With every dawn, he rises high, A silent wish, a longing sigh, While she, beneath the azure dome, Knows not the heart that calls her home. In realms of water, air, and light, Two worlds apart, yet spark ignites, For in their depths, a tale unfolds, Of sun and sea, a love untold''

-The mirror is for you, so you can look how pretty you are, and to remind you that with no sun, it's not fun to go to the beach princess. att: 𝓐.

She smirked looking herself in the mirror expecting something, he saw through the distance, well hided, she looked both sides, expecting the stoll brothers to tell her is a weird prank.

but the smirk morphed into a frown, she didn't like those jokes, they were mocking about her appearance? How down!. Until Percy, comes out saying

''why is the door open, close it, I hate those dam fly's!''

''are you just worried about the fly's?''

'' They are mocking about me and you care about dam fly's?''

she says, holding the mirror in her hands, closing the door, keeping the mirror and the beautiful poem.

Does she just miss pretended everything? She was definitely Percy's half sister.

Tuesday?

Through the night, he left a little box with chocolates and cookies with seashell figure, and left a Puka shell necklace with a little sun charm, he was being obvious at this point and he left.

the beginning morning he was talking with helios, helios was kind of angry of seeing the god trying to get a demigoddess,

''hey no, I'm just trying to get her attention, I'll ask her when she is 18''

and the sun god just look bad at him, and he saw her, looking a bit sleepy, face swollen, she tripped with the box, Apollo was dying from anxiety, she picked the blue box up revealing the contend from it.

very pretty and must be delicious cookies and chocolates, WITH SEASHELL FIGURES! She ran inside, waking up Percy, to look at the present his secret admirer sent her

'look! IT'S A DAM DOLPHIN!''

''Blobfish…shut Up.. It's dam 9 o'clock..haha..A dolphin''

-he says sleepy, taking one from the box, eating it sleepy due the hour, he was just not a morning person.

'like..He or she is calling me skinny? Okay that's a big ouch''

The god only pushed his hands into his mouth to not scream from frustration, his princess just didn't understand.

Wednesday…

He was just stressed, this weekend his princess probably is leaving to go back home with her mom this time, he left a bracelet beads kit, and there's was a bracelet made up ''Asteri'' was in the blue, white and yellow beads, she smiled, feeling like a little kid, her mom used to bought her those for Christmas, until she ate one…whatever, And there's was another note.

'aye Asteri, I'm saying the truth, I'll never be mean to some one I love, do not miss pretend everything I do to love you'' att: 𝓐

she felt like faithing,, then it was a guy!, one who was too shy to ask her out, she smiled, and backed up to her cabin to show Percy the new thingy his 'secret boyfriend'' how Percy baptized him, get her.

'so, a Bracelet kit? How old are you, 6?'' ''tf you mean 6? Annie gifted you a sea creature coloring book..'' ''IT'S DIFFERENT, IT'S FOR COLORING!'' ''AND THIS IS FOR FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS! You ain't getting one'' ''Ain't letting you color in ma' book''

Thursday.

He got tired of letting his gifts in the morning, not a morning person either, and this time, she saw her, a little sad. Maybe he influenced her? ''why are you sad y/n?''

ooh OH! Her secret boyfriend didn't appear this morning..So she feels sad, even though she told me she didn't want a boyfrien-'' but she shut him until he finished.

'shut up, if he is a camper he could feel bad and,,uh no, it's not that'' she says, giving her new friendship bracelet to Annabeth.

''Secret boyfriend, what in the world is that?''

she says, whispering thank you, every person that was percy's friend got a friendship bracelet, even nico had one, and Grover, but no Percy.

'like a guy that is not his boyfriend but wants to be, all week has sended her gifts and today no'' he says, coloring in his book while talking, mocking his sisters disgrace.

'maybe yeah, he told me he would never hurt someone he loves, and why disappear in the middle of something!''

''You have the heart of a chicken'' he looked at her, with a serious expression.

And she gasped in horror.

Annabeth, with the Poseidon's kids, walked to the cabin,y/n just wanted Annabeth to see the disaster of cabin Percy had.

until in the stairs of the cabin, a glass box rested covered in some leaves, with …blue Cinnamon rolls?, she screamed like she saw someone eating caviar /it's actually an anecdote/ Annabeth was giggling and fangirling with Y/n.

'HE CAME OMG HE LOVES ME!'' ''YEAH.. Um? HE DOES!'' ''WHY THEY LOOK MUCH MORE EDIBLE WHEN ARE BLUE?!''

Percy screamed to gain the attention. And a new note was attached to the glassbox.

'sorry for making you wait for Asteri, I woke up late, I hope you and your brother like them. Did you think I wouldn't find out if you shared them? Take care Asteri'' att. 𝓐

She screamed, entering again, to share those very delicious Cinnamon rolls with her friends, Apollo, through the dusk of the sun that got from the windows, saw her putting the note, with the other things he had gifted her, it was mere luck she had liked them, it's not like he was giving her random stuff, those are things she liked when she was younger.

Friday

Today she was alone, this time he didn't appear. She gave him time, but he never showed up with a last gift.

She cutted one of the flowers,Percy and Annie give her like a goodbye, putting it in her hair, and, with all her things packed, she was on the lake, looking it, very very sad, it was more like nostalgia.

she was going home, but most of her friends weren't gonna be there, even if Percy told he they can always do Iris call's with Annie, she didn't want to interrupt those calls with his girlfriend.

Leo was staying in the camp,and pipes too. She felt so good, but at the same time sad, the winter was going to last too much, and the summer went like river water. Maybe she was just 16 to think like that, but she was just a girl.

It was dusk, the time when the sun is going down and the sky looks orange, she sigh, when getting up, until a bright like blinded her, in the water was a very, handsome man, golden hair, tanned skin and..Wet clothes, walked towards the water, she wasn't dumb-

'Apollo..?' why are you here?'' Elizabeth was the first to leave before the Manhattan war to his college, she was confused. 'II came for you *my 𝓐steri'' he pronounced, with a big bright smile, giving her a bouquet of sunflowers. She was confused, but more shocked, she grabbed the bouquet, looking at the most pretty sunflowers. ''y-you? You are,,'' she stuttered the words, her throat felt dry, and she got stiff from the panic. ''yes my Asteri, I am the one who has gifted you everything, now I have the brave to show up to you'' ''what I'm supposed to do I-'' ''you do not have to do something, just..Let me be with you, protect you'' ''i know this kind of thing, I can't be with you,, I'm so sorry'' 'don't be, I'm the fool who fell first, but please, let me be at your side..Please, to the time you'd have go, there's no sun, so I'm here to guide you, tomorrow in the morning we leave from here''

He was talking about guiding me to my home? What kind of deal was this? I nodded, and we both just talked in front of the lake, sitting making eachother company.

BONUS

''WOAH you meet him in person?! HE BRIGHTS IN THE DARK?!'' a little golden-brunette haired boy screamed.

''yes, but he is strong too, he used to gift me sunflowers''

''why daddy didn't get mad?''

''well, it's you daddy who gifted me the sunflowers my love''

The kid didn't catch it at first, but he kept eating his blue cinnamon rolls, while both were watching the TV, the sun was coming through its windows, the dusk had already begun.

[mercurygray]

hiya merc, could i please request #18 rainboots for the fred/brady au we’ve been chatting about👀 (the one that’s also kind of the jo and fred vintage shop au) — @shoshiwrites

...okay so I don't think I actually put any rainboots in here. But it's raining. I think that counts.

The dress came with its own ghosts.

They'd only said that as a joke, of course, when they'd pulled it out of the box and put it on the mannequin and the lights had started acting funny. But the building was old and frankly the lights did that all time, so Jo really didn't know what she was saying.

But Fred did know what Jo had said about the photo was true, that the woman looked like her, and she also knew that she had seen something in the mirror when she'd tried it on, and it wasn't a trick and it wasn't her imagination and it wasn't just someone she'd seen earlier that day - it was a man with floppy blond hair in a fisherman's sweater and boat jacket and he was looking at her like he was in love with her, which was a hell of a look to be getting from anyone, let alone a face in a mirror that shouldn't have been there.

It was raining heavily outside, and doubtless the shop would be slow today - Fred made sure the bell on the counter was in full view and went to the back room to continue taking photos for the listing.

The dress was old, all gigot sleeves and lace, and photographing it had been a treat to do. The people who collected these sorts of things wanted the insides, and she'd already spent a lot of time carefully repositioning the dress to show off the set of the sleeves, the careful princess seams at the waist, the bit of blue ribbon embroidered with 'John' that had been sewn into the bodice just over her heart. (A sea captain, someone had said - there was a pair of anchors on the invitation, the rope binding them together forming a heart.)

It really was uncanny, about the photo - that was why Jo had made her try the dress on, even though clothing of this age was really only for collection or display. It's got good bones, Jo had said, carefully lifting the skirt over Fred's head. It'll survive being on you once.

But will I survive having it on? After seeing that face in the mirror Fred wasn't sure. The desire to know more of the story was too strong. That was half the reason she and Jo had the shop, anyway - the stories. Jo, of course, couldn't ever let a good story go untold, and Fred couldn't let it go unheard, and between the both of them and the camera and the Instagram and their growing reputation for this kind of thing they were doing pretty well for themselves. Having a good story meant a dress might be easier to sell, even if it wasn't something a lot of people might want to buy. Fred had already seen the comments they'd gotten about the little blue embroidered ribbon.

so cuuuuuute!!! awww a lil borrowed blue.💙💙 do you think he had something of hers in his jacket??? I hope John knew how lucky he was. I want to do this with my wedding dress.

Fred traced the tiny stitches in the ribbon. I hope he knew, too. The rest of the story - at least the bits she'd gotten from the family member who'd sold them the trunk - was really quite sad. They'd gotten married, and a few months later he'd been lost at sea. No children, obviously. The wedding dress had gotten packed into the trunk with the wax orange blossom crown in tissue and the invitation and the wedding photo and a packet of letters all dated before the wedding tied in ribbon - the same blue ribbon she'd sewn into the dress and embroidered with his name. Jo had read some of the letters, over their daily afternoon coffee, and made a couple of Instagram posts about them and the whole collection, like a teaser trailer. Someone in the comments was already clamoring for her to write a book about them already.

Did she pull them out of the chest to remember him - the letters, the dress, the little scrap of blue? There had been a man's sweater, too, a fisherman's gansey repaired several times over - something he'd left with her to be mended? It wasn't hard to imagine pulling that out for comfort. That was also sitting on the workbench, waiting to be photographed. That would easily sell - men's sweaters were back in vogue. It felt bad, to break them up like that - after all this time together, and all the time their humans had spent apart.

Her fingers followed the sweater's pattern, and when she glanced up again there he was again - the man in the mirror. Benevolent - not the kind of ghost that you could blink away. She closed her eyes and opened them again and he was still there, and still smiling fondly. "It was my favorite," he said, as though answering a question she'd asked. His voice sounded distant - far away, maybe, or underwater. "She was going to have it finished when I came home."

Fred traced the repairwork, the new joins that had never gotten a chance to be strained again. "It feels like there's a lot of love in it."

"A lot of tears, too." His eyes were dark and sad. "She'd pull it out when she missed me."

When he said that she could feel it - the wool against her cheek, wet with tears, bedsheets made of linen, the creak and press of a shirtwaist and corset, her hair piled up in a bun. A memory that wasn't hers, and yet - she felt it in her bones, like she'd been there. There was a ring on her finger, but when she looked down, her hand was bare.

"I was very lucky," he said, answering her unspoken question from earlier. "To have known her love. She loved everyone - but everyone said she loved me best and most." He sounded proud of that. "I think it's why I'm still here. Because I wasn't finished loving her yet."

There was a great clap of thunder, and suddenly, just like that, he was gone again, and Fred was staring at the mirror like she'd lost someone. Again.

Outside in the shop the bell rang, and a man's voice floated back, sounding disoriented. "Hello? Anyone in the back?"

"Out in a minute," Fred said, looking around, still feeling like she'd misplaced something. (She wanted to fidget with a ring that wasn't there - what was that?)

"Sorry to barge in," the voice from the front asked, sounding a little desperate, "but have you got a towel? The awning outside just gave way and I'm soaked."

Fred looked around the back room and grabbed the beach towel they used for washing and ironing, and headed to the front of the store. A man was standing next to the front counter, dripping onto the floor in the middle of the room while he looked at the now-broken awning. "I hope someone can fix that for you," he was saying, inspecting the damage through the glass, the rain still pounding down in sheets outside. "I think there was water pooling at the top and it just came down." He turned around, not realizing how close Fred was. "Oh, hello."

Fred stared, trying not to think about what this man would look like in a boat coat, or how she'd just seen this face in the backroom mirror. "Hi." For a moment all she could do was stare.

"I'm so sorry, did I interrupt something?" he asked, as politely as he could.

"No, no - you. You came at just the right time." She quickly handed him the towel, looking at his soaked shirt, his sadly limp jacket, the way his hair was plastered down to his head - like he was drowning, and someone had pulled him out. She darted into the back room to grab the sweater. "Here, you - you should put this on. No sense in freezing."

He looked up from peeling off his soaked-through coat, the puddle on the floor around him growing. "Are you sure? It looks really old."

"It can take it, I promise." You came back to it. It wants to be worn again. "I was just about to make some coffee," she offered, feeling a strange sense of pride when the sweater fit and the stitches held. "Would you like a cup?"

He thought about it for a moment, like he was working through something in his mind, and finally nodded, his smile growing stronger. "Yes, actually. I think I would. What was your name, again?"

"It's Fred," she offered, holding out a hand, already knowing what he would say, feeling the ghost of the ring on her finger again, the air around them smelling impossibly like salt air and sea breeze.

[loz-untold-myths]

˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧

The Princess’s Heart ⊶⊰❣⊱⊷ Master Post

𓆩o𓆪 ࿐˖⁺‧₊ ˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚��‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖˚₊‧⁺˖. . .

༺

Fic Summary

A fairytale told in Hyrule, set in a forgotten age of the golden queendom. Passed by word of mouth from queen to princess, it is a tale of sacrificial love, hope, and determination.

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Original Tale 𖥔 Zelink Week

𖹭 Day 1 ~ Fate of the Stars (Under the Stars)

𖹭 Day 2 ~ Accursed by Blessing (Fading)

𖹭 Day 3 ~ An Eternal Blossom (Blooming)

𖹭 Day 4 ~ The Haunting Destiny (Enchantment)

𖹭 Day 5 ~ Last Dance (Spellbound)

𖹭 Day 6 ~ Final Hours (Sealed Fate)

𖹭 Day 7 ~ The Hero's Hope (Reunion)

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Ao3

Concept Sketches

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𖹭 Sneak Peek 1

𖹭 Sneak Peek 2

𖹭 Link Doodle Ref

[onewingedsparrow]

WIP Game

Tagged by @mistresslrigtar, and @zeldaelmo, thank you both!! <3 This is the WIP game where I have to post my wip titles and you can ask after them. Most of these titles are final, but a few of them are still being workshopped :) I did a Read More because this was getting long, as usual :P I'm also gonna tag @prismicnexus @afaroffsong @silvercaptain24 @sunburned-cyborg and @skyyknights but no pressure! And if you've been tagged already that's all right, you can ignore this. ❄️ Over the Edge (Original Work) This is the tale of an illustrious creature residing in a high tower—and the secret of the broken, bloodied bones scattered about the dungeon floor. 🦋 I'm Coming After You (Robots in Disguise 2015) Why is there a sparkling on the prison ship Alchemor? How will Lieutenant Bumblebee fare when said sparkling interferes with his work in capturing dangerous Decepticons at large? Where is Steeljaw's new base, and what in the Allspark is he plotting now? Bumblebee would also like to know.... ⚔️ When Push Comes to Shove (Hyrule Warriors) Link and Zelda return to the Temple of the Sacred Sword to seal away the darkness, and Link is forced to face his insecurities, whether he's ready for it or not. 🐝 To Bee a Leader (Robots in Disguise 2015) Bumblebee knows that Optimus Prime chose him to be leader of the Autobot team on Earth…but he's tired and he misses his dad.

🐺 Enduring the Twilight (Twilight Princess) As regrets from his past failures haunt him, Link finds an unexpected counselor—and ally—in a mysterious golden wolf who regularly crosses his path. 🍃 Deku Tree Link AU (OoT Canon Divergent) When the future Hero of Time was adopted by the Great Deku Tree, he inherited more than a home and a family among the Kokiri—he also received the Great Deku Tree's abilities, as well as the mantle of Guardian of the Forest. 🎭 When the Dust Settles (Miraculous Ladybug Apocalypse!AU) Paris has fallen. Two survivors roam the wreckage, spared only by the Miraculous they themselves carry. 🪽 Under My Wings (Transformers: Prime) Arcee never wished to join Team Prime. Optimus never planned to raise a sparkling during the war. Bumblebee never meant to change the course of history. The road ahead of them is not at all what they expected.... 🧣 All I Am (Skyward-Sword-and-Hyrule-Historia-manga-inspired) The captain of the Knights of Hylia has been tasked with holding back the demon king’s forces. Aware that he is out of his league, Link struggles with coming to terms with the gravity of this command. Fortunately, Hylia is watching out for him. 🌙 Moonquake WIP (Original Work) Kaya is tired of the power going out. Tarka Sevan seeks a light from beyond. ❤️‍🔥 Tripled Threats (Transformers Crossover) Three road-raging warriors and one cheerful ray of sunshine share what is perhaps the strangest plot twist of their lives. 🥠 Sandwiched (Age of Extinction) Bitter from the battle of Chicago, Optimus Prime holds strong opinions about humanity's profane treatment of his people. Trapped by convention with a group of humans, in addition to another equally unwanted ally, the Autobot leader turned war criminal is forced to consider the deepest truths of life...even that which he has been running from for ages untold. 🏴‍☠️ Overboard one (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) On the voyage to Far, Far Away, Kitty falls into the sea. 😇 [The smile one] (Rise of the Beasts) Mirage points out something that Bumblebee can never forget. 🧵 [It's Official] (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) Puss and Kitty don't appreciate how stinky Perrito's sock has become over their long voyage, and plot to expand his wardrobe. 🌌 [Fire Emblem Megafic] (Three Houses / Three Hopes / more) Two new professors arrive at the Officer's Academy—and the fate of the World is forever changed. A single crack in a castle of glass is enough to shatter the structure of time...now imagine what one could do with two.... ...this isn't all of my WIP's, of course. :D But, these are the ones I'm either in-the-zone-working-on right now, or I'm gearing up to get back into, so ask away! ✨

[beautifulloverwitch]

By Fire, Sea and Blood

the untold tale of an approaching death

Act I: chapter seven: false peace.

previous ///// next

Summary: House Targaryen is as divided as ever, all having solidified their places within either faction. A grievous task that put love to a difficult test. Although the storm may have seized its frightening drums of thunder and destructive strikes of lightening, it has not gone yet, and all who thought that are fools for latching onto hope so soon.

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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Daenerys Velaryon (Strong! Oc)

WC: 13.8k

Warnings: Death, mentions of death, Violence.

Masterlist

It was a sleepless night for the occupants of High tide. Viserys held his head in his hands as he grieved the state of his family. Alicents assault on Rhaenyra had proven to the slow man that this was no childish quarrel, this was a conflict rooted within this family’s generations. One, that he had regrettably believed, would have never existed had he not taken Alicent to wife.

His queen stood within her bedchambers, blankly staring into the dancing flames of the hearth, distraught and ashamed of what she had done. Grasping at her shaking hands as she attempted to regain what she could of her composure.

Her lady in waiting, Talia, entered her bed chambers giving a gracious nod to the handmaidens that had busied themselves cleaning it out.

“My queen?” she asked the dazed Alicent “the hand.”

Alicent squirmed as she adjusted her posture, her father marching in with an unnerving expression on his face. One she could not discern if it was of disappointment or pride. The handmaidens bowed their heads as he walked past them without paying them any mind, rushing out of the chambers as he approached the queen.

She glanced back at the flames, awaiting the tongue lashing she would receive from her father, accepting it gracefully “say your piece.”

“Now, what piece is that?” he credulously asked.

She sighed, at his cruelty for having her list her wrongdoings “I’ve conducted myself in a manner, unbefitting my station, or any other,” she rolled her jaw before she continued to confess ashamedly “I lost composure, assaulted the princess,” she faced her father only a moment before looking down at her fiddling hands, still shaken by what they had been capable of doing “Already the word is spreading, the gossip speculating that I’ve gone mad.”

“All true,” he agreed.

She sighed “I’ve disgraced myself, and ensured my husband’s favour will forever rest on her,” she admitted, bowing her head as she awaited her father to state her wrongs in a far more eloquent manner.

“And yet,” his face brightened with pride, “I’ve never seen that side of you, my daughter.”

She lifted her head, hating his admiration of her doings.

“I even doubted its existence,” he joked.

She was quick to deplore her actions “it was an ugly thing, I regret it-.”

“We play an ugly game,” he told firmly, still a proud smile lining his often tense lips “And now, I see that you have the determination to win it.”

She clutched her wrist as she remembered “Rhaenyra-.”

He continued for her as though he knew the words before they had left her lips. “You see her for what she is, what the King’s stubbornness has wrought.”

Alicent lowered her gaze as she asked anxiously “what will he say to me?”

“He’ll forgive you,” he assured as he stepped closer to her “what else could he do?” He spoke with such sureness, for he knew the king so well he thought him predictable “Now go to him, be penitent, plead the injury to your son,” he advised “keep a grip on your passions, and I promise you in time, you and I together will prevail.”

She gazed upon her father fearfully, but assured by his guidance.

“What that rogue Aemond did, in winning Vhagar to our side,” a smile tugged at his lip as he recalled how the boy had slipped away “the boy was right it’s worth a thousand times the price he paid.”

Laenor stormed through the corridors of High tide, worried for his family. When he had heard the news of what had occurred the night prior, he feared the worst. The gnawing guilt tore him away from his drunken stupor.

Barging into the room he saw them all. His wife wincing as she held a brave face before her children, who had not been spared either. Lucerys with cotton stuffed up his swollen and bloody nose, Jacaerys’s face littered with purple bruises, and Daenerys pressing a cloth to her cheek hiding her wound. The three children turned to look at their father, making him meet the face of his greatest failure.

“Is everyone alright?” he asked, wincing at the question.

“The broken nose is the worst-,” the Maester assured.

“Thank you, Maester,” Rhaenyra told, clutching at her freshly stitched arm “leave us,” she dismissed.

The Maester reluctantly took his leave. Rhaenyra turned to look at her children “you as well, you’ve already found enough trouble today.”

“Yes mother,” they all ashamedly answered.

Daenerys and Jacaerys stood at either side of Lucerys as they walked out of the room, helping the dazed boy walk. Laenor brushed their shoulders as they walked past.

He turned to look at Rhaenyra, admitting the obvious “I should have been there.”

She had a jaded look on her face as she recalled the night's events “those should be our house words.”

Laenor chuckled lightly as he glanced over his shoulder to her before turning to look at the table covered with bloody cloth and discarded thread “I have fought dreadful enemies, but I could not defend my dear sister, far from home and in agony…” he pursed his lips as he huffed through his nose “I failed to defend you.”

“Sit down,” Rhaenyra told, startling the man. He sat before her, with his head bowed as he listened attentively “Aemond called our children bastards,” she said.

His lips had parted at the news, shaking his head in remorse before he proclaimed “I have failed you Rhaenyra, our marriage…” The words proved difficult to say “I tried,” his face contorted with remorse as he told, thinking she had not known “Our children, I do love them.”

“I know,” she softly assured.

“Deeply,” he emphasised, his mouth tightened as he searched his mind for the right words “but I have not, mayhaps, loved them enough.”

Rhaenyra sat quietly as she pondered his words, a delighted hum leaving her as she pictured “I had hoped to bear your children, the few times we lay together, things might have been different.”

He too imagined such a possibility, loathing how he had neglected such a chance “I hate the gods for making me as they did.”

Rhaenyra frowned at his words “I do not, you are an honourable man, with a good heart,” she chuckled as he glanced up at her “it’s a rare thing.”

He hummed, touched by her compliment but knew a solemn matter had to be addressed “we made an arrangement all those years ago to do our duty and yet explore happiness.”

Rhaenyra laughed, for she could never have imagined this to be the outcome of their arrangement. Laenor grinned awkwardly before stating to her firmly “there are times, I think when… these things cannot mutually exist,” his lips pursed before he informed her “Ser Qarl will return soon to the fighting in the stepstones,” he brought his chair closer to her as he declared to the bewildered Rhaenyra “but I recommit myself to you, and to strengthening our house as we prepare you for your ascension,” Rhaenyra’s chin lowered fearful for Laenor “I will raise our sons to be princes of the realm and our daughter, a queen.”

“Laenor…” she spoke, thinking this much more than she could have wished from him.

“You deserve better than what I have been,” he told, not a stutter in his voice, “you deserve a husband.”

Annora had taken to emptying Daenerys’s room of her things for the trip back to Dragonstone. Her eyes worriedly flicking over towards the girl who sat still on her bed, back facing the eyes of the room as she stared down at the object in her hands. Daenerys fiddled with her compass, flicking it open and shut as she questioned her right to keep it anymore. It pained her to consider that the Aemond that had given her the compass was the very same Aemond that had left her wounded in too many ways. She knew that she should have been revolted by him, that she should have come to hate him. To that she asked herself how could she, how could she possibly hate the boy she once called her friend? How could she hate the boy who would spend hours with her divulging his greatest troubles to her and she to him?

A part of her felt foolish for not having ever realised it sooner. Last night's events had laid before her an easy puzzle, with pieces she had long had, but she was far too entrapped in her own delusion to have bothered casting doubt upon their friendship. His disdain whenever she would speak of her family to him, with either worry or content he always seemed to have the same look of disinterest at their mention. How his face would harden whenever she had to leave him to tend to them. She began to think herself fortunate that she had not bid him goodbye once she had departed to Dragonstone, for fear of his wrath. Aemond never had cared for her family, rightfully so, they had only served to torment him. Yet even with the kindness she had offered him, he had harmed her in a manner indescribable.

How comfortably the word “Bastards,” had left his lips. It must have been easy for he had not faced her as he uttered such an insult. It was the first time she had heard the word uttered unashamedly. Even Aegon had not the gall to say it aloud. She wondered if the word had danced about his head whenever he saw her, was that the cause of his smiles, his joy? 

As painful as his actions had been, she argued they were not worth him losing an eye. Her brother Luke had frantically explained to her as she guided him to the Hall of nine, that he was scared, he wanted to defend his elder siblings, he feared Aemond would do further harm, and he did not wish to stand by and watch. An action Daenerys was regrettably guilty of. The remainder of the night Dany had spent it scrutinising her every action, to her dismay, she had found so many ways to prevent such a calamity had she not stupidly wandered off again. Had she stayed in her bedchamber, Rhaena would have found her. she could have convened between them all and prevented the confrontation from escalating further.

She hated the daze that she had fallen into during the attack. While her brothers drew their blades to her defence she stood by with a dumbfounded look on her face. She pinched her ear harshly in reprimand, shouting at herself not to cry, for she had no right to, she was their elder sister and she had failed to protect them, this was but a small injury compared to all that had happened to them. ‘Learn that your brothers are forever first, not the boy you had taken to reading a stupid history book with’ she chided herself.

A knock at her door made her wipe away at her tear stained cheeks. She glanced to the door then to the equally confused Annora.

The handmaiden opened the doors and bowed her head as she was faced by the wide-eyed Helaena.

Daenerys paid no mind as she kept her eyes fixated on the compass gilded with guilt “Who is it, Annora?”

Annora stuttered out “Princess Helaena, your grace.”

Daenerys’s neck had cracked at the swiftness of its turn, she discarded the compass beside her as she shot up from her seat and made her way to the door “Helaena?”

Annora stepped aside as Helaena made her way into the room, closely followed by the brooding Ser Criston and her mother’s handmaiden Talia. His eyes darkened with loathing as he saw the girl, a shred of pride taking root within him as he saw her shrink beneath his stare.

Helaena’s hands fiddled at her sides, her eyes looking at Daenerys’s feet, finding no will to look at the girls face. Her lips twisted to the side as she turned her head slightly to where Criston had stood “can I speak to her alone?”

His lips tightened, hands clenching behind him as he reminded her “the queen commanded me not to leave your side,” he told, sending a cautioning glance to the girl of ten that stood awkwardly before them all.

Helaena turned to face him “it will only be a moment,” she told her eyes shining like porcelain glass “Please, I wish to speak to my niece, alone.”

Daenerys frowned at the foreign term; she had never been acknowledged in such a manner by her friend. Helaena spoke the term with endearment, but it still felt wrong on her lips as she tasted the word for the first time.

Criston looked over Helaena’s face with worry, hating himself for succumbing to her pleads. He reluctantly left the room after sending a warning stare to Daenerys. Making it clear to both that the door was to stay open.

Helaena dismissed her handmaiden and Daenerys followed suit, dismissing Annora.

The two girls stood awkwardly in front of one another, Daenerys’s heel digging into the ground as she searched for the right words to say. She feared to fall the first victim to whatever tongue lashing the kind Helaena had conjured from whatever darkness could have possibly existed within her. Daenerys would take it with a stringent face for she had believed she deserved it. She accepted she would no longer be entitled to the kind voice of her friend, how could she have any right to it after what she had just allowed to occur.

Helaena stood solemnly, a slight sway in her stature as she fought against the words that had begun to push against her lips. Her cheeks still wet with a sheen of tears from arguing against the harsh command her mother had enforced upon her. She had searched for her father in hopes of gaining his objection in the matter, but he refused to face any of his children, even the maimed one.

Helaena had pitied what had happened to her brother, but never would she blame Daenerys for her brothers’ actions. She found it just as troubling to choose between her friend and her family, finding the grey line between them both impossible to ignore, they were all her family, why must she choose?

As she glanced up to the girl, her eyes landed on the swollen and bruised cheek of Daenerys, the wound concealed by a thick piece of cotton, blood gone brown as it dried. 

Helaena gulped and did her best to stiffen her face. All that had done was make her face tremble as she fought against her anguish “I’ve been told… to never speak to you again,” she plainly stated, not sweetening her words for Daenerys, who’s eyes blew wide with anxious disbelief.

“What?” she asked, her voice did not waver for she thought this a joke, but she knew Helaena to not be so cruel.

Helaena flinched at the sound of her voice, head beginning to shake slightly as she explained “Mother told me that I cannot see you anymore, nor can I write to you,” her lips quivered with trepidation as she recalled “and it is best that you don’t attend my wedding.”

A bewildered chuckle escaped the apprehensive Daenerys “you can’t possibly mean that,” she told, awaiting a ray of light to shine through the thick solemn cloud that hovered above Helaena’s face “what had happened was regretful, and if the queen wishes it I will apologise on the behalf of my brothers,” her eyes began to flutter as she felt her tears way heavy on them “I will offer my own eye if it will sate her!” she desperately bargained “please Helaena, we’ve no fault in this, plead to her to understand that.”

Helaena’s hands clenched in front of her “she refused to listen to me, and grandsire said it was for the best of this family,” she spoke, her mouth twisting with contempt when she recalled the vile ways her mother had spoken of the young girl, Alicents anger was still freshly lit at the time “the matter was not negotiable, I’m sorry-, I barely managed to convince her to let me say goodbye.”

Daenerys shook her head, denying the harsh reality that this may be their last encounter. She rushed forward clasping Helaena’s hands in her own, running her thumbs hopefully over the rigid hands of her friend “No, she can’t do this, let her exact a punishment in any other manner but not like this!” she stated, eyes fighting to meet the avoidant Helena's eyes ``If she were to do this, I may never see you again, ever!”

Helaenas gaze shot up from the ground “that’s not true! When your mother ascends the throne, you can return to the red keep!”

Daenerys shook her head “she will, but I won’t! I would be stuck at Dragonstone until the time came for me to ascend the iron throne and that is only if I choose to become queen!” she frantically explained, dread beginning to clench around her heart as she recalled “if I were to refuse, I would be sent away to marry some lord-.”

Helaena’s hand clenched around Daenerys’s trembling ones “that won’t happen.”

“Deny it all you wish, but it will!” she restated “I would never see you again, and-,” Her lips pursed as she attempted to gather herself, her breaths growing laboured as she considered every possibility that her unknown future could have possibly had in mind “I can’t lose another friend Helaena! Please!” she pleaded, sobs beginning to shake her tense shoulders.

Helaena’s lips quivered, how could she survive the coming decades alone, with Aegon as her husband and Aemond controlling each and every one of her steps with the support of their mother and Grandsire. She dreaded a future absent of the understanding and caring of Daenerys. 

She leapt forward, engulfing the sobbing Daenerys into her arms, the two crying together, Helaena mustering whatever restraint she could have possibly had to bite back her sobs and begin to accept her fate. Running her hand up and down the back of the sobbing Daenerys, practically chanting her whispered words “Break away a branch of red, charging towards a dances end,” she spoke with desperation “Breaks away a branch of red, charging to her uncertain end.”

A knock had come at the door, Criston found her stay to have been longer than necessary to him, a moment longer and the queen would have been disappointed.

Helaena tensed at the sound, and pried herself away from Daenerys, who followed Helaena’s hands as they departed her. Helaena reached down and clasped Daenerys’s hands in her own, lifting them up and to her chest as she spoke her words carefully, a hint of a warning in her voice “The darkness will call and the seas will roar, to the tides you succumb and from the tides you will rise, thrice more.”

Daenerys' eyes fluttered with confusion, her mind beginning to ache as she attempted to decipher this riddle. She stumbled forward as Helaena tore herself away and marched towards the door. Swatting the hand of Ser Criston as he attempted to offer her his comfort. Criston sighed with frustration, reaching for the handle of Daenerys’s room and slammed it shut, leaving Daenerys torturously alone in her cold bedchambers.

Helaena stormed past her brother who waited for her patiently down the hall. Sending her a look of pity as he saw her teary eyes and reddened cheeks. Ser Criston stood before Aemond, offering the boy his arm “come my prince, let me escort you to the Queen.”

Aemond looked up at the tender eyed knight, his eye fluttering slightly as he adjusted to the sight. His head shaking from side to side as he was again reminded that he was vulnerable. The slight stumble in his step, the way he kept close to the walls on his left, and the dull ache that thrummed in his head. These newly found plights made him consider the trade he had made, and how fair it truly was.

He had spent the remainder of the night awake; his mother never having left his side since the events at the Hall of nine. He consciously looked at her with a pride he had not before, grateful for a mother like her, a mother willing to stand against the king, just to protect the children he never would have. To his dismay, his mother’s protectiveness cost him another chance with his dragon; he was forbidden from taking to the skies on Vhagar a second time until the Maesters would tell her that he was fit to do so. Even the she-dragon was reluctant to welcome her rider, spurning him from reaching for the netting again, crooning worriedly at him as he sauntered off angrily, clutching at his bandaged face.

The sound of doors bursting open from down the corridor caught his attention, glancing towards the head of dark hair that stormed down the other side, bow and satchel of arrows in hand. He took a step towards where she had gone, longing to speak with her, to hear her tell him that he had been wronged and that her brothers were at fault, that she would do something to avenge him, that she would lend him her ear so he may pour into her his anger and that her tender words would be water to the lashing flames of his justified rage.

His face had hardened once he remembered that she had no kind words for him, no touch of sympathy at his predicament. When he had been writhing on the floor she rushed to her brother’s aid, who remained whole after a confrontation that they had incited. He was the victim, he was attacked and he did the one thing he logically could, he defended himself. The gall of his nephews to stand by when his half-sister had screamed that it was they who had been attacked, they all knew that to be a lie. He wondered if his niece had known the same. Thinking to himself at what point had she come upon such a scene? Was she there from the beginning, but too craven to face him at such a moment? Was she there when his cousins and nephews had him pinned to the ground, beating him mercilessly? Did she know he had no intention of engaging in the confrontation? Mayhaps, to his misfortune, she had walked in when he had called her brothers bastards and threatened them with a torturous death. He doubted it, and entirely denied it; he had hoped her to have been too enthralled in saving her brother from his grasp to have heard him say such a thing.

His lip trembled as he recalled the way she had hurt him, kicking him to the ground like some dog. Treating him in such a manner he would have never known it was Daenerys, he had thought it his brutish cousin Baela, had he known it was Dany he would have never struck her, he may have even seized defending himself if it had meant she would be capable of bolstering reason between them all. She knew just as he had, that a dragon was not claimed by inheritance it was claimed by those daring enough to come face it. They had read over the pages of dragon claiming in their history book thousands of times over, it would be impossible to forget.

The beliefs that his grandsire had instilled within him had been reaffirmed, she would always choose them, and toss him aside, no matter how right he may have been. He wondered to himself, had he been worth enough to her to even become a name for her to remember.

He raised his head, paying one final glance to where she had gone, before marching off after his sister, Criston, stuck at his side.

Rhaenyra clutched at her wounded arm as she looked out onto the horizon. Eyes following the shrinking figure of her fathers ship as it departed for kings landing, staring at it with trepidation and question. She cared less for the ship and more for the one occupant within it, the one person she had a thousand words to say to. Never would either have the gall to face the other after what had happened that night, each left with a scar to be forever reminded of it.

Daemon joined her side, hands resting comfortably on the hilt of his sword. Taking a quick glance at her arm before looking up at her.

“Fire is such a strange power,” she said, “everything that house Targaryen has is owed to it,” her fingers danced around one another as she frowned, “yet it has cost us both what we loved.”

He hummed in agreement before sending a considering look to the deep blue blanket of the sea “perhaps the Velaryons knew the truth of it, the sea is the better ally.”

She sent a look of envy towards the sea “fire is a prison… the sea offers an escape.”

Rhaenyra casted Daemon a sad and helpless gaze “I need you uncle…,” she pleaded. Lips beginning to quiver in anxious wait as he paid her no mind “I cannot face the greens alone,” she spoke in her mother tongue, garnering his intrigue “let us bind our blood, just as Aegon the Conqueror did with his sisters,” she proposed to him “with you as my husband and prince consort, my claim would not be so easily challenged,” she searched his curious eyes for a hint of rejection, she found in his eyes pity and regret. Never had Daemon seen her so defeated and alone, and he only fanned the flames that entrapped her in such a state once he had left. 

She looked to the sea “the Velaryons are of the sea, but you and I-,” her eyes followed his face, fearing he had readied to leave her once again as he turned his back towards the sea, contemplating her offer carefully “are made of fire,” she proclaimed proudly “we have always been meant to burn together.”

Daemon sighed before reluctantly reminding her “we could not marry unless Laenor were dead.”

Rhaenyra had not been inflicted by a stutter as she told him.

“I know.”

Her eyes had softened with hesitance as she saw the shocked expression on his face. Resolution had hardened her features as she looked back out into the sea. Missing the proud smile that appeared upon the excited Daemon's face.

The docks were blustering to prepare the ship to Dragonstone. Originally the Targaryen and Velaryon families were to stay at High tide weeks longer but what had happened the night prior made them in no rush to stay a moment longer. Rhaenyra had invited her uncle to stay on Dragonstone before he went to Pentos with his daughters.

The children had all been gathered within Rhaenyra’s quarters. Awaiting to be called onto the ship.

Jacaerys and Lucerys had felt awkward within the room, never having been outnumbered by girls before. Daenerys had taken to answering the wary Rhaena and Baelas questions about Dragonstone.

“Would there be any space for us?” Rhaena curiously asked.

Daenerys scoffed “plenty, the palace is practically empty,” she said.

Baela huffed  “I’d rather stay here than go to all that smog.”

“It’s not too bad!” Luke defended “it’s quite nice in the afternoon!”

Daenerys reluctantly agreed “he’s right,” she leant to Baela as she whispered “doesn’t smell as bad surprisingly.”

The two girls giggled once they saw the boy pout. He hissed as he felt the twinge of pain from his nose, the sound silencing the two as they looked at him worriedly.

Jace observed his brother's face, fearing his nose had begun to bleed again.

“Is he alright?” Daenerys had asked.

He gave her a reassuring smile “he’s fine, he just needs to stop using his snout.”

Rhaena frowned tenderly at the boy, Baela startled her sister when she jumped forward “you did well to show our one eyed cousin, Luke,” she told with a proud smirk on her lips “takes our mothers dragon and insults us beneath the roof of our home.”

Daenerys rested back against her seat at the mention of Aemond.

Jace scoffed at the mention of his uncle “I can’t believe he received no punishment from the king.”

“He threatened to kill us! Gods- he nearly killed Jace and Dany!” Luke exclaimed.

Jace patted his head “you did well to save us!” He admired.

Luke’s lip tightened bashfully, still unsure of how to feel about his doings “I didn’t mean too…” he muttered to himself.

Baela had a smug look on her face as she told “he’ll be forever reminded not to repeat his stupid mistake, and to never cross us,” she said, frowning when she saw the uncertain look on Daenerys’s face.

Rhaena knew the cause of her uncertainty, the guilt that had gripped her as she sat by and heard the words regarding her once friend. Rhaena reached for Daenerys’ hands “you needn’t let him plague your thoughts Dany,” she told “it was best he showed his truth now rather than later.”

Her lips twisted to the side as she heard the words, she hated how comforting they had been.

Baela scoffed “I found him rather annoying, how can you have him as your friend?” She bewilderedly asked “all he would do was ogle at you.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes “everyone does that.”

“Well he had done it a bit too much for my comfort,” she told plopping beside Daenerys.

Daenerys squirmed in her seat, hating where this conversation had ventured “enough of him,” she dismissed before grasping both of her cousins hands “a tale of yesterday he is, today I have the both of you, one friend gone for two in return,” she told with a forceful glint of playfulness in her eyes “I count myself lucky.”

Jacaerys scoffed, falling back against his seat before remarking “I suppose you could call it a fair trade.” 

The lot of them laughed, Daenerys gave a tense smile to her brother as she heard him echo Aemonds words, noticeably discomfited by the reminder.

The door came open and their parents entered, a solemn look on all of their faces, spare for Daemon, there was a ray of excitement on his face that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daenerys “it’s time to go,” Rhaenyra told.

Baela and Rhaena were the first out of the door, receiving light pats on their shoulders by their father. Daemon gave a light nod to Rhaenyra and Laenor before following his daughters.

Rhaenyra shut the door, entrapping her children. Luke asked confusedly “why’d you close the door? We have to get to the ship!”

“There’s still time, they’ve yet to pack the rest of our things on it,” she told before clasping her hands nervously in front of her “I wished to grant us some time to say goodbye to your father, he won’t be joining us on the ship,” she granted the timid Laenor a tight smile.

“What?” Daenerys asked, rushing to her fathers side and gripping his hand “why not? We’re all going, why does he have to stay?”

Rhaenyra had hurriedly answered for him “he wishes to spend a few days longer here, he dearly misses his family and Driftmark.”

Daenerys frowned and glanced up at her solemn father, who seemed lost in contemplation “I can stay too then!” She told, her face brightening with excitement.

Laenor was snapped away from his thoughts by his daughter's words.

Rhaenyra rushed to dismiss her daughter's suggestion “that may not be for the best, with his family's grief still fresh-.”

“I think it is a wonderful idea!” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes had widened with surprise at Laenors answer. He stepped behind his daughter, his sullen look replaced with elation at the prospect of her stay, clutching her shoulders. Daenerys beamed up at her father as she looked at him, practically trembling with excitement.

Rhaenyra was lost for words, this was not the plan “how are the both of you supposed to return together?” She asked frantically.

Luke credulously suggested “maybe they can return on fathers dragon!” He told.

Laenor gave his son an appreciative nod “a wonderful idea, Dany has been pleading for me to take her to the skies for a long time.”

Rhaenyra frowned with worry as she looked between her daughter and Laenor. Her hands itching to tear Daenerys away from her father.

With the assuring nod of Laenor, she had reluctantly agreed “alright then, but you are not to go anywhere without your father,” She sternly told her daughter.

“Of course!”

“And no wandering, whatsoever,” Rhaenyra commanded.

Daenerys gave a stiff nod to her mother before turning around and hugging her father

Laenor told one of the squires at the door “call for my daughter's things to be removed from the ship.”

Jace asked his sister, sending his father a wary look “but who’s to show around Baela and Rhaena.”

Dany smirked at him “you’ve yet to take a lesson in chivalry brother, I hope you take it upon yourself to show them around.” 

His face flushed red, before he cleared his throat.

Luke engulfed his sister in a hug “you’ll both be back soon, right?”

“We will, I’ll be sure to get you something special,” she told her brother.

The two boys ran out of the room after bidding their sister goodbye. Rhaenyra knelt down before her daughter, her face softened with fear and worry. Daenerys had assumed it her mothers instinct spiking her worries again.

She brushed away her daughter's rebellious hair and rested a tender kiss on her cheek “I’ll see you in a few days sweet girl.”

Daenerys smiled, kissing her mothers stiff cheek “goodbye mother.” 

Rhaenyra had to tear herself away from her daughter, and march out of the room as quickly as she could.

Daemon frowned as he saw rhaenyra leave the room without her eldest child “where’s the purple one?” He asked.

Rhaenyra kept her eyes forward as she continued on her way “Daenerys wished to stay.”

“And he let her?”

“Yes.”

Daemon frowned “but the plan-,” he reminded.

“Goes unaffected by this change."

Laenor was full with a vigour his mother and father had never seen before. The poor Daenerys had found her own radiance to have dwindled, for her father had been waking her at first light for the past few days. Although, She would eventually find herself revived by her fathers elation. Never had she seen him smile so much before, such joy it had brought her to see her dearly beloved father contented for once. She had not realised how contagious his joy could be, even the Sea snake had found himself amused by his son. It may have been due to his relief of not having to see his son sulking about anymore.

Laenor had taken Daenerys down to the port, to show her the ancient ship that his father had taken after in name, the Sea Snake. 

Daenerys was careful as she wandered about the ship she heard so much of in the stories her father would tell, they had always left her stricken with awe.

Rhaenys looked up at her husband. Her face tense with apprehension for she had spent these past few days on tenterhooks. Rhaenyra’s infidelity to her son was clear to her, but why would Rhaenyra leave her husband and take off to Dragonstone alone, with her rogue uncle? She was not stupid, she knew what rumours this act may stir, yet she so willingly did it. 

Her worry was further fuelled by Laenors foreign behaviour, and the stay of his daughter, Daenerys. She had no ill will toward the credulous girl. Her worry prevented her from being thankful for the girls foolish adoration of the man who clearly was not her blood.

On the day of Rhaenyra’s leave to Dragonstone, Rhaenys had received word from a squire that Rhaenyra, Laenor and Daemon had been speaking together in secret, Rhaenys assumed it a scheme, but of what sorts she did not know.

“They’ve prolonged their stay,” she stated to her husband.

Corlys chuckled, unaware of the meaning beneath her statement “Spice towns annual fair comes on the morrow,” he excused “our son hasn’t attended the celebrations in a decade, I would believe him eager to share such a chance with his eldest daughter,” he told as he made his way to where they often sat together, he ignored the pointed look from his wife.

She remained bothered by how he still chose to remain oblivious to the truth, not even caring to address it within the confines of their private rooms.

“I believe Rhaenyra would care little of what Laenor would desire for her daughter,” she told “so little she wouldn’t be so willing to leave her here,” she glanced back down to her hands thoughtfully as she grew certain that something was awry “no… she sows away at a scheme, with Daemon offering her the thread.”

Corlys scoffed in disbelief, terribly shocked by his wife’s accusation “and you mean to say a girl of ten, is involved in such a scheme?”

She glared at him, for that is not what she had meant, but it was not a possibility she would set aside “of course not-.”

“That settles it then,” he dismissed, arising from his seat abruptly.

“Corlys!”

He turned away from his path to speak to her angrily “when was the last time you had seen our son filled with such joy? Hm?” He questioned rhetorically “gods- even on his wedding day the boy was a sorry sight, only days ago he was mourning his sister, and I’ve seen none stand at his side like his daughter,” he told, he sighed as he regained his composure, feeling the wary stares of his guards in the room “our son is happy because of her, and yet you are too blinded by your doubts to relish in this rare sight.”

Rhaenys sat quietly in her seat, ignoring the piercing stare her husband had been driving into her. He huffed before marching out of the Hall. 

Rhaenys stood from her seat and stepped towards the window, frowning with uncertainty as she watched Daenerys climb upon the shrouds of the sea snake, curiously tugging on the ropes attached to the ship's mast. Rhaenys’s brow knitted as her heart swelled with joy, she realised that her worry had never granted her a moment to truly relish in the sigh of her contented son, his grin would tremble as he hovered beneath the shrouds with his arms outstretched, fearful of his daughter collapsing to the ground.

The woman’s wary shield faltered as she began to battle with the smile tugging at her lips. Mayhaps the gods had been kind enough to grant her and her house a moment of serenity after the lashing storm that had rained down upon them.

Daenerys curiously tugged at the shrouds, both testing their strength and enjoying the fright on her fathers face.

He attempted to negotiate with her “you may doubt it but there’s much to do down here than up there!” He shouted.

She chuckled as she looked down before looking back up, shielding her eyes from the beaming sun, eying the main mast curiously, frowning curiously at the two that stood opposite sides of it “why are there three?” She asked.

The confused Laenor frowned at the question, Daenerys pointed to the three poles “oh, the masts?” He asked, earning a nod from the oblivious Dany “they keep the sails aloft, without them, you may as well swim across the narrow sea.”

“But why three?” She asked again.

“The bigger the ship the more wind it will need,” he told “three masts suffice, some said it is unnecessary to build such a big ship,” he smirked up at her with pride “but they’re still out at sea, loading their ships, while my father thrives in the fruits of his short labour.” 

Daenerys chuckled, cautiously climbing down “we will make a bigger ship!” She proclaimed.

He chuckled “will we now?” He asked, helping her down from the shrouds.

She nodded excitedly “it will be so big! That we will return from this voyage faster than grandsire!”

“Careful to not pry at his pride too much,” he warned jokingly, he reached for her hand as he reminded “we won’t need that big of a ship, we will explore, not take, we've enough right here.” He told.

She pouted before reluctantly agreeing “I suppose so, but!” She stepped in front of him “we must take a trinket from each place we go!” She decided. She pouted when she saw the solemn look that had settled upon her fathers face “it doesn’t have to be special, it can be small, even a leaf would suffice!” 

The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile, a sorrowful one.

Daenerys frowned, fearing she had upset her father with the suggestion “you know what, we will take nothing at all, I want for nothing other than to take across the sea with you, that memory is enough for me.”

His head began to shake, to what exactly, Daenerys did not know. He had not realised that his mind had set his will aside and taken grasp of his body, if he could not speak the truth, his mind would act it out. His heart began to beat loudly in his ears, reminding him to protect his little girl, ‘let these days with you remain an untainted memory’ his heart pleaded. 

‘End this now, she is hopeful, too hopeful, smite that hope, smite that hope while she has you to comfort her,’ his mind reasoned.

It pained Laenor to shield his sorrow, fighting to smile at her lovingly, not allowing a crack of sadness to peer through. Kneeling down he tucked a hair behind her ear “I think all three are wonderful,” his face turned playfully stern “but pick one! We would not wish for our ship to be sunk by your trinkets!”

A flash of a frown went across her face, for as good as he was at masking his downturned mouth with his dashing smile, his eyes always did well at telling on him. She smiled up at her father, “I won’t, I promise.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief “thank the gods,” He stood up, turning his back to her. Allowing his fear to break through his half worn mask a moment, his face painfully contorting into that of anguish. The sniffling Laenor beckoned his daughter “Now tell me, where are the ship's colours often kept?” He tested, a slight waved in his voice as he shook away his sorrow.

“The sails,” she confidently answered.

“And?”

She pondered for a moment “the quarterdeck!” She quickly answered.

“Who man’s the quarterdeck?” He asked pacing about the ship, he turned jovially to add “or woman’s?”

“The captain of course!” She answered as she giggled.

“Who climbs the shrouds to the main mast?” He questioned.

“The unfortunate navigator,” she answered jokingly.

“Why unfortunate?” He curiously asked.

“How many navigators make it down after climbing up?” She comically asked, earning a chuckle from her father.

“You would be surprised, enough jokes!” He chided “you’ve a voyage in a few years best you be prepared.”

She frowned at his wording but she went along.

“If there is a tear in the sails, who's responsible?” He questioned.

“The carpenter.”

“And who tells him that?” 

“The quartermaster.”

“Why not a captain-?”

“he’s too busy commanding and controlling, manoeuvring the ship, handling the cargo, stowing, keeping his men aloft with ambition and handling his precious ship,” she told rolling her eyes as she sardonically spoke, her voice rising with each word “he’s far too distracted with his duties to notice the massive tear on the most important part of his ship,” a huff of frustration left her as she kicked the wooden floor.

A look of surprise adorned his face as he turned to look at her. At first he thought she was frustrated by this test, but she was not one to shy away from flaunting her knowledge. 

He frowned thoughtfully before commenting “or she?”

His words earned him a pointed look from his cross daughter. Her lip twisted to the side as she realised the cause of her anger, she realised she had not been picturing a captain.

“Captains can be stubborn,” he told “their stubbornness almost blinding,” he leaned on the wooden railing of the ship beside his daughter.

“Ambition fuels stubbornness,” she whispered.

He pursed his lips and stroked her shoulder comfortingly “a captain blinded by his ambition, is not a good captain Dany,” he tilted his head as he reminded “I’ve taught you this.”

She reluctantly glanced up at him, hating how right he was. She warily asked “what if the quartermaster could have stopped the captain, hm?” she curiously asked “steer him away from his ambition guided path.”

He pondered a moment before plainly telling her “it is good that she hadn’t, cause if she had, she would’ve been made to walk the plank.” 

Her eyes widened with horror, bowing her head fearfully as she imagined it, would he have killed her had she intervened? Would she have become so worthless to him that he would’ve rid the world of the burden that she is? All because she disagreed with his actions. Her heart interrupted her mind's unreasonable ramblings ‘he would do no such thing, he loved you for a time, that is enough for him to not wish such a thing upon you little one.’

She chose her heart in this internal quarrel.  

“You must purge him from your mind Dany,” he told her, earning a look of uncertainty from his troubled daughter “think of him long enough, he will settle in your mind, rather comfortably,” he frowned as he saw the sheen of tears daring to slip from her eyes, he warned “hey, he is not worth a tear from those eyes.”

She sniffled “I’m trying!”

He frowned, pondering to himself a suitable distraction for his pestered daughter. His eyes had brightened once he had found the perfect one “how about this? There is to be a fair tomorrow at spice town, every year round it happens,” he told his intrigued daughter “the streets fill with music and laughter so loud you won’t be able to hear your own thoughts because of it, and with all the sweet vendors you could ask for!” He smiled at her as he saw a wide grin tug at her lips “a perfect distraction for the both of us,” he told “we’ve had our fair share of tribulations these past few days, we deserve a moment of good fun.”

Daenerys beamed with excitement at her father, nodding eagerly in agreement. Laenor sent her off to the castle, to prepare for dinner before bed, for they had a long day ahead of them tomorrow.

Laenor’s jovial demeanour snapped away as his eyes noticed the sullen face of Ser Qarl. He had not noticed that the man had been watching him and his daughter for so long. Qarl seemed eager, nodding towards the many people on the dock, Laenor frantically shook his head before moving with great haste towards High Tide.

The bustling streets of Spice town radiated with a joy that Kings Landing had envied. Not a note of sorrow flourished within their streets, children shrieked with delight at every curious performance, ducking their heads from the bellowing flames made by a proclaimed ‘dragon man’, the crowds bouncing with the beating drums and swaying with the flowing strums of a drunken bard kicked from the fifth tavern he had visited today. The town's port was overwhelmed by the visiting traders and voyagers.

Daenerys was torn on where to go first, the warm scent of fresh lemon cakes tickled her nose as she felt herself float to it, only for her eyes to glimmer with the burst of flame that came from a clustered crowd, before her feet could guide her that way she was knocked down by a vivacious dancer who had paid his surroundings no mind. Daenerys rubbed her bruised cheek while grinning at the sight.

“Dany!” Her father called out, encircled by four knights. He frowned worriedly as he saw her on the ground, but was assured she was not harmed upon seeing the marvelling smile on her lips. He heaved her up “how soon you have managed to forget your mother’s command,” he chided.

She shook her head “I haven’t forgotten, and I wasn’t wandering!” she defended “you’re just too slow!” 

He frowned, “you may continue at my pace, or you may return to your bedchambers and ready yourself to leave on the morrow.”

She huffed as she crossed her arms across her chest, feet itching to sprint off once again. Laenor wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders, guiding her about “come, there’s much I wish to show you!”

Daenerys forgot her irritation as her father brought her forth towards one of the thespians. The crowd parted for the two and their guards, they were not unfamiliar with the Sea snake's son, and his daughter, although they did scratch their heads at the relation.

Two men had been tossing blazing sticks between themselves as though it was nothing, wide grins on their faces as they danced and jumped, leaving the crowd gasping with trepidation at each toss before they would erupt in applause and cheers. 

The shorter of the two men grabbed two sticks, one was alight while the other was not. He tossed them both into the air, the two striking one another before falling to the ground, the man had catched one while the other seemingly had gone off course. The other was coming dangerously close to the two nobles, prompting the four guards to snap forward in defence. Laenor was quick to pull his daughter back only for the taller man to catch the blazing stick in his teeth, prompting a look of awe from the startled Daenerys. He wiggled his brows at her before jumping back to his stage.

She laughed in disbelief “Did you see that!”

Laenor chuckled, still coming down from a peak of worry “I felt it, all the hairs on my face nearly burnt off.”

She scoffed before joking “you’ve never liked to grow your beard, I see that to have been of great benefit to you.”

He rolled his eyes, his nostrils flared as they were graced with a familiar scent. The sweet aroma of Honey fingers had called for him, he grasped his daughter’s hand “come on!”

He practically dragged her to the sweet stand where the vendor's eyes beamed as he saw the familiar shining jewels that Laenor would don “My Lord!” his brows arched as he saw the head of dark hair beside him, but his eyes had widened with wonder as he saw the purple anomaly her eyes were.

“Two servings of honey fingers,” he ordered excitedly, giving the uncertain Daenerys a reassuring look.

The man blinked away his stupor, blubbering in answer “y-y-y-yes m’lord- of course-,” the man frowned thinking his eyes had been toying with him, mayhaps he mistook her eyes for the gems on her fathers rings.

Laenor took the servings from the man, granting him a generous payment, same as the one he would grant him each year before stepping away. The man nearly tumbled over his stand to get a closer look of the uncommon trait Daenerys had possessed. He had only heard of her trait never had he or anyone else seen it.

“Take one,” he offered his unsure daughter, rolling his eyes at her reluctance “oh come on now, I know you are not one to make judgement so soon.”

She tentatively took the delicacy from his hands, her nose scrunching at how sticky it was. As she took a bite of it she hummed in delight at the sweet cinnamon taste.

“Delicious isn’t it?” Laenor asked as he continued to guide her about “Tis the one Tyroshy doing I am grateful for.”

Sun began to fall upon Driftmark, the warm glow cast a deep saturated hue upon the sky, almost a crimson red with yellow and blue dancing about the sky.

Daenerys had ventured off to the stands where foreign antiquities were sold, delicately carved bronze figures, rare stones so scarce in Westeros, and the finest cloths she had seen.

Laenor watched from afar indulging in his fifth honey finger. How contented he was to share his joys with his daughter, how thrilled he had been to see her as thrilled as he was about them. His troubles seemed so trivial that they had entirely slipped from his mind. Her smile, her joy, had been strong enough to stifle his own sorrows, he prayed that she would never lose a trait so rare in this world, rarer than those eyes of hers.

“M’ lord!” 

A familiar voice had called out, tearing through his frail sanctuary. He gulped and turned to face the man, finding it to be Ser Qarl once more. He would often find himself thrilled to see the dashing face of his partner, although today, he would find no pleasure in seeing his face.

Instead of the elation he would commonly feel, all he could feel was dread at the sight of the man. Knowing what his presence had meant.

Laenor glanced about, seeing the many people within the street.

Qarl marched forward, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. 

“Have you no use of me lord?” Qarl recited the words he had been practising for days “have I grown too old for your tastes?”

The guards surrounding Daenerys grew alert of the confrontation. Their sudden alarm catches the attention of Daenerys, pulling her away from the market stand. She frowned with worry as she watched the confrontation from afar “father?”

“What are you doing here?” Laenor questioned fearfully, even though he knew the purpose of his presence.

“I’ve grown tired of being a toy for you to pick up whenever you wish, thrown to the dirt when you’re done with me!” Qarl yelled angrily, although his tone seemed terribly stale.

Laenor huffed, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes pleading for Qarl to not allow this confrontation to ensue now of all times. 

“Have you nothing to say, nothing at all?!” Qarl shouted, beginning to believe his role far too soon.

“Ser Qarl I command you! Leash your temperament or I will!” Laenor yelled out, fearing that Qarl had not understood him, he glanced for his guards to be at the ready. Giving them an affirming nod, as he turned around he was startled to find himself tumbling to the ground clenching his jaw. 

Qarl had landed a blunt blow to his jaw “let us not dither about m’lord, draw your sword, let us end this!”

Laenor huffed, eyes glaring at Qarl pointedly, screaming at the man that this was not time to have such a confrontation.

The guards rushed to Laenors aid, one guard stayed behind to keep a tight grasp of the twisting Daenerys, desperate to come to his aid as well. Crying out for Ser Qarl to stop.

The people grew outraged by the assault on their lord, crowding them as they rushed to Laenors aid. The guard who had kept grasp of Daenerys knew this was no safe place for the princess and heir to the Iron Throne, he had begun to haul the girl back to the safety of Driftmark. 

Daenerys thrashed in his grasp, commanding the man to let her go so she may help her father. Searching for his face in the crowd of rowdy spectators and enraged loyalists. 

“Let me go! I won’t leave without him, I won’t leave without my father!” she cried, clawing at the arms tightly locked around her waist.

The guard had not answered her demands, busy finding the safest route to Driftmark.

The worried Daenerys was now infuriated of how feeble her attempts of escape had been, the farther she had gotten, the more the crowd had grown to be an angry blur of pale blues and plain browns. 

Her eyes had widened with horror at the splash of a familiar colour within the blur of blue and brown. Perturbed by the sight of a colour that forever prompted dread within whatever unfortunate soul encountered it. She stilled in the knight's arms as she looked on with horror. Fearful of who that splash of red had belonged to.

Daenerys was brought to the hall of nine where her grandsire and grandmother had been. Their faces twisted with worry and confusion, where was their son? Daenerys was pale with terror, still as stone beside the gallant knight.

“What happened?” Corlys questioned the knight, eying Daenerys with worry.

The knight gave no clear answer, for he had not understood what had happened.

Rhaenys approached the frightened Daenerys cautiously. Kneeling before her and grasping her stiff shoulders “what happened, where's your father?” She asked softly. She had judged that the girl needed such tenderness, for her pale face and teary eyes would not have been caused by anything less than monstrous.

Daenerys' eyes fluttered as the sound of her grandmother's voice cut through the loud buzzing in her ears. Her lips parted for a moment before they fell shut. Her face contorted with fear as she recalled the sight once more. ‘Where is my father, where is he? He’s a warrior, a knight, he will prevail, he will cut through the crowd and rush back here I Know it, but Qarl, Qarl knows him, they’ve trained together, they are dear friends of one another, and none know a man’s weakness better than a friend.’

The words tumbled past her mouth as she frantically told “we were walking through the festival before Qarl appeared and attacked father!” Rhaenys shared a look of dread with her husband as she heard her words “and then- then a fight broke out and I tried to come to my fathers aid but I was taken away!”

The knight shuffled in his place as he felt the harsh gaze of Rhaenys “the remainder of the guard are with Ser Laenor, more than enough to provide him the right aid, my lord.” 

Corlys asked, gesturing around the room “look around you, is my son here?” The knight gulped, shaking his head, flinching as Corlys bellowed “then it was not enough!”

Daenerys flinched as he shouted, prompting Rhaenys to squeeze her shoulder in comfort “come let us go to your chambers, there’s been enough excitement for you today.” 

Rhaenys stood by the window, hiding her anxious face from Daenerys who was sitting at the vanity having her freshly washed hair brushed out into a frizzy mess. The girl was never one to hide her disdain for how her hair would be treated but today she had not found the will too, she could not have cared less. It had been hours since she had least seen her father, for he was yet to be found. Her grandmother was kind enough to distract her from her fears but she was not capable of hiding that glint of suspicion in her eye. Rhaenys may have laid her worry to rest but her guard never comes down. 

Daenerys' hair was raised up into a tight bun at the back of her head, the handmaiden stood up and bowed towards Rhaenys “the princess Daenerys is ready for bed, my lady.”

“Bed?” Daenerys asked.

Rhaenys sighed as she approached the girl “It is best you get some rest-.”

“I’m not tired, and I wish to wait for father to return,” Daenerys firmly interrupted. She gulped as she saw the stern look she had received from Rhaenys “please grandmother, I wish to be awake when he returns, and you can’t expect me to go to bed not knowing if he’s alright.”

Rhaenys rested her hand on Daenerys’s cheek “he would not want you to tire yourself.”

The displeased Daenerys frowned,  “I’ll know what my father wants, once it comes from his own lips.”

The remark shocked Rhaenys, recoiling her hand from the girl's cheek. A small smile of disbelief danced on her lips, how could she underestimate the daughter of the sharply tongued heir.

The doors burst open, and in came the dishevelled Laenor, eyes frantically searching for his daughter.

Daenerys glowed with relief as she shouted “father!”

Laenors distress eased at the sight of his daughter. His arms clutching her to his chest, breathing in her presence to dampen the blaze of fear within him. 

Laenor pulled away from her, holding her face in his hands “You're alright! We thought you’d been terribly hurt!” She quickly said “Ser Qarl was foolish for coming near you!”

“That he was,” Corlys said as he came into the room.

Rhaenys kissed her son's cheek as he arose, holding him in a tight embrace. Muttering a prayer of indebtedness to all the known gods for sparing her a terrible grief.

Corlys pursed his lips in discomfort as he felt the thick air of worry that had surrounded his wife disperse “it is best that you both stay within the castle til it is time for your departure, the guards have yet to bring Qarl before me.”

Laenor tensed at his fathers words, resting his hands upon his daughters shoulders who winced at the tight squeeze “we are departing for Dragonstone tomorrow,” he looked down at her granting her a tender smile “I believe we have overstayed our welcome.”

Corlys nodded “I will have a ship prepared,” he gestured for his wife to join him as he left.

Rhaenys rested her hand one last time on her son's cheek before leaving the room.

Laenor left to his chambers to clean himself up and dressed into a less distressed attire. He looked over himself in the mirror, making sure nothing was misplaced. His gaze arose to meet his own eyes, eyes filled with reluctance and regret. He rested his hands on the smooth wood of his vanity.

Heaving in a shallow breath he adjusted his posture and gave himself a reassuring glance before leaving the room. 

Daenerys had begun to settle into her covers, her fingers grazing over her watch as she pondered the days events and the disturbance they had caused. For a few days there was a reassuring calm, she was foolish to think it would go undisturbed. 

Her eyes flicked towards the door as she saw her father come into the room.

She was confused, for it was time for bed, and he was not in his night clothes.

“Father?” She spoke.

He frowned at her “what are you doing?” He asked, a frenzied grin on his face.

She frowned “is it not time to retire for the night?”

He scoffed “the night has yet to end Embar Anne! Get up, get up!” He urged pulling her from her bed and towards the fireplace where they would often sit at the end of the day.

“But father, I’m tired!” She whined.

He playfully rolled his eyes at her “ah yes, so eager to be rid of me so you may wander about the halls freely,” he told, smirking at the look of shock on her face “I know you have been wandering the castle Dany.”

She was quick to make her case “I only did it once!”

He raised his hand up to silence her “I won’t tell your mother,” he held out his fifth digit out to her “I promise.”

A sigh of relief escaped her as she feebly wrapped her own finger around his “but I am truly tired father, ‘twas not a calm day.”

“Surely you’re not too tired to spend time with me,” he replied with a playful glint in his eye.

Daenerys crossed her arms frowning at the excited Laenor “Years ago it would be you urging me off to bed not I.”

“How times have changed,” he sighed out, playing with the ends of his tunic as he reminisced.

The two sat together for hours, a tower of books slowly grew beside them. Laenor found himself reading through a book to interest Daenerys whenever he would accidentally retell her a story of his adventures unknowingly. 

She grew suspicious and worried as this mistake grew frequent, but she had eventually succumbed to it, for she was now occupied with keeping her eyes from rudely sliding shut. Whenever Laenor would see her eyes closed he would shake her awake, desperate to tell her more, for her to ask whatever question she wished without the limitations of respect expected towards a father.

She was quiet, only listening, it hurt him to not hear her curious questions, to not see her eyes widen with wander as he told her tales of his greatest ventures, of his time as a knight during the war at the stepstones, of the important values a voyager and captain must possess but mayhaps she was too tired to fathom his words, or how important they were to him.

He ran his fingers through her hair as she laid against his shoulder “I wanted to spend my life forever within the thrill of battle,” his soft spoke, a tight frown blemishing his brow as he stared at dimming glow of the fire “until you came, and it was a sudden pause.”

Her tired voice came from his side “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he dismissed, chuckling to himself. “I found the pause to be rather comfortable while it lasted,” he said, squeezing her slumped shoulder. He glanced down towards her “you know it is only a few years before you will be met by the same pause.”

Daenerys’s tired eyes flew open “what kind of pause?” she asked.

“Why, You will have your own family,” he explained, laughing at the look of dread on her face.

“Do you not think it too soon to discuss such a matter?” she suggested fiddling with her fingers.

“Tis not as bad as you think-.”

“It may not be for you, but for me it is,” she interrupted, moving away to the otherside of the couch “to trust someone like that, do you not think it dangerous at all?”

He pondered to himself for a moment “I think it rather romantic.”

The unamused Daenerys gave her father a blank expression “mm, sure… nothing more romantic than resting your trust in someone only to have them know the right place to drive their dusty blade.”

Laenor frowned “I had not known a girl of one and ten would be so seasoned in the field of Marriage and Romance.”

She tugged at her sleeves “Poems are rather useful in providing an insight.”

He scoffed as he came to the realisation “a rather one-eyed insight.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he credulously asked.

“Make fun of his… disfigurement, it's insensitive,” she reluctantly defended, grimacing at how wrong the word had sounded once it had left her mouth.

Laenor sighed, “Again you are defending him, you’ve no obligation to him, Daenerys.”

“I have an obligation of common courtesy, I refuse to speak ill of him,” she quickly excused.

Laenor hummed “courtesy or longing my dear?” he sardonically questioned.

She frowned in offence as she answered “Courtesy.”

He sighed “Daenerys, I had hoped you had forgotten about him.”

She rolled her eyes as she stared at the blazing flames in the fire pit “How can I if morning, noon and night I am reminded of him.”

He did not appreciate the attitude she had been giving him, but knew this was no easy thing to experience, such a stinging betrayal is difficult to forget.

“You are still young Embar anne, you will be graced with better faces,” he assured, playfully tilting his head at her as he teased “mayhaps even a great many handsome faces.”

Her face reddened at his words, hiding her face in her shoulder bashfully. Laenor was delighted to see her abashed expression.

“Are we done for the night?” she impatiently asked “I’m rather tired, and I’ve had enough talk of stupid boys.”

He winced at her words “Already, do forgive me for boring you already, i pray that the men you meet may interest you enough so that they may not have their pride wounded.”

She chuckled, shuffling off the seat and towards her bed. Laenor reached for her arm “are you sure you are tired, we’ve still hours to burn,” he asked, hopeful that she may stay awake a bit longer.

She gave him a tired smile “father it's late, and I am truly, truly, TRULY tired, can we not continue this tomorrow? We’ve a long flight to Dragonstone, we can talk all we wish then.”

“One more story,” he desperately  pleaded, holding her hands tightly in his own “please Dany.”

She pondered for a moment before half-heartedly succumbing to his wishes. He smiled in relief before resting her beside him and beginning to tell her a tale was sure she had not heard before.

“Do you know why the stepstones have been at war for so long?” he asked.

Daenerys frowned “this is not a story-.”

“Humour me,” he requested.

The tired girl sighed “The stepstones are key for trade across the narrow sea.”

“But what started the war?” he asked again.

She pondered to herself, what word would define the Triarchy’s actions? She asked herself. From the thousands of lessons she's had, she gathered one commonality between all of them: “Greed.” 

Laenor nodded before repeating “greed,” he began to run his fingers through her hair “how does one sate greeds void of a belly.”

“You can’t,” she interrupted.

“And that is how war begins,” he told “the battle went on and on and on, not one man remained king of the narrow sea for more than a few months,” his voice laced with frustration “my father refused to give up, saw those wastrels as too big a threat to the house he bled for,” he chuckled to himself “I’ll never forget the proud look on my fathers face as I sewed together the greatest strategies to end this war, a time when I was his equal, a time when he did not feel shame knowing that I was to succeed him,” he scoffed “now that I’m gone, look at them, a decade and they haven’t ended this stupid war,” He reached for his side, unhooking his sheathed dagger “this was the very dagger I had during my time fighting, as sharp as Valyrian steel.”

Her tired eyes skimmed over the body of the dagger, the worn silver lining that danced about the cyan grip, leading towards the silver seahorse wrapped around the head of the daggers hilt. 

“It’s very pretty…” she mumbled.

He hummed in agreement “my father had it made for me, one of his few acts of kindness towards me, aside from that its always been duty and legacy with him,” he tossed the dagger on the table beside him “promise me you won’t allow yourself to be consumed by the trivial matter of legacy.”

The dagger slid across the table and clattered to the ground, the least of his concerns as he shrugged.

She mumbled her promise to him as she nuzzled herself into his side.

“I pray the gods have mercy on you and end this war before the time comes that you ascend the iron throne,” he said, begging the gods to not bestow upon his daughter this eternal burden “what a headache it would be for you-.”

His breath hitched in his throat as he glanced down and saw her fast asleep, her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him tightly in her slumber. Muffled snores escaping her gaping mouth, her dark lashes kissing her red cheeks. 

Fear began to flood his chest as he whispered out to her “Dany?” he asked, hopeful for her answer “Daenerys… wake up my dear,” he called out again, his voice trembling with yearning, pleading that she wake ‘a few more minutes,’ he begged.

“Embar anne… my sea horse, my sea dragon, please wake up,” he begged, tears now slipping from his sorrowful eyes, whispering his daughter's name.

She remained still at his side, unaware of her crestfallen father crying over her.

He sniffled away his sorrow, for it was time, he was exhausted more than enough time. He stiffened his lip and shook away his grief. As he stood he was careful to not wake her, scooping her up into his arms and walking to her bed, laying her to rest for the night. He brushed away the hair from her face so it would not pester her as she slept. Tucking her in he knelt by her bed and stared at her face memorising every little detail, placing it as close as he could to his heart.

He rested a long kiss on her head, how he had regretted the gesture for he found it difficult to tear himself away. Prying his lips away from her head he whispered to her “may our paths cross again my sea dragon.”

His bent knees felt rigid, he could not move them, his heart would not let him. His mind frowned at the action, forcing a burst of will to flow through him. He shot up from the ground and stormed towards the door, his heart pleading that her voice would come and tell him to stay, to stay for a story, But the room was so painfully quiet, spare for the sound of his steps as he left. He strapped his sword to his side before leaving the room, his sweaty hand tightly gripping the hilt.

Shutting the door ever so quietly he sighed in relief, this may have been the hardest thing he has had to do, all that was left was see the rest of this through before it was too late.

As Laenor marched through the halls towards his chambers he felt the weight of uncertainty begin to ease from his shoulders.

“My lord,” came the voice of a young boy, halting Laenor in his steps.

He sighed before answering “yes?”

“There is someone waiting for you in the hall,” the young boy credulously told.

Laenor heaved in a deep breath “alright then, I will be right there.”

The empty halls carried the sounds of desperate cries “Help! Help! Guards!”

Daenerys flinched awake at the sound, the terror in the young boy's voice frightened her. Pulling back her covers she slipped her coat over her shoulders and peered out of the door, frowning as she saw the boy frantically running down the halls shouting for help.

She hesitantly stepped out of her room, filled with trepidation at what might have happened, what else could possibly happen on this day?

But curiosity gnawed away at her as she stared down the other side of the corridor. Hugging her coat closely around her she tiptoed down the halls and followed the sounds of clashing and scraping. She knew the sound had been coming from the hall of nine, but who the commotion was being caused by she did not know. 

Her brothers are gone, so she need not worry for them.

Aemond was not here, and he would be a fool to do anything stupid in his condition.

It was the dead of night, everyone should have been asleep.

A scream of horror cut through her thoughts as she neared the hall, the scream so shrill, so guttural that it froze her in her tracks. She had never heard anything like that before, she had heard screams of pain before, screams of sadness, screams of joy even, but this…

This sounded like agony.

As she drew closer the screaming turned to throaty wails of distress. She thought this horror was coming to an end, instead she was met with a rancid smell, one she would compare to that of a pig roast. She covered her nose as she came upon the stairs that descended to the hall. She treaded warily towards the hall, peering over the railing to see what was wrong.

Her eyes fell upon the back of a familiar figure, a man looking at the blazing hearth of the famed hall of nine, Lord Corlys’s prized chamber.

Following his gaze she stilled in the middle of the steps, rooted in her place as she stared at the charred figure in the hearth. She could see its twisted and charred arms, its fingers clawing at the air, as though its last actions were cursing the gods for the cruel fate they had bestowed. 

As she allowed her gaze to fall to the legs she frowned, the fabric of the breaches was familiar, She had seen it not that long ago. She looked back up towards who she assumed was the mans face, or the darkened void that should have been. His mouth was wide open, his moments of agony immortalised in his remains.

His remains, he was dead.

Dead.

Daenerys frowned as she tried to fathom the sight before her, a man burnt to death, and the culprit still standing there, admiring his work she had assumed. Her blank gaze fell upon him, she was not afraid of whatever harm would be done upon her by this cruel man, instead she wanted to see what the face of cruelty had looked like, so she may remember it later.

Her face contorted with horror as she was met with the familiar face of Qarl Correy, the man that only hours ago had assaulted her father, the man, that for years had been her fathers dearest friend. 

Qarls eyes widened with horror as he saw the little girl, she was not meant to be there. Before he could do anything about it he heard the sounds of clattering armour approaching the hall, he knew he had overstayed his welcome.

Daenerys’s gaze followed his figure as he bolted out of the hall, her eyes fell back to the charred figure. The crackle of the flames had sent a cold shiver through her swaying body. While the room seemed to spin, the figure remained still in its place. 

She shook her head ‘no… no?’ she thought to herself ‘no,’ she stated firmly ‘that is not him, my father is sound asleep in his chambers,’ she feebly assured herself ‘he is in his rooms and he is well, he will come here and take me away from this terrible sight, and tell me everything is alright, that I do not have to fear.’

As the seconds past the fear began to take grasp of her, the heavy weight of dread settling uncomfortably upon her chest ‘he is here, he is coming, he is not there, that is not him.’

She had not heard the doors burst open as two guards frantically scrambled inside. They shared a look of disbelief as they stood before the hearth. They tried to pull him out by his legs but his charred remains had welded to the wood beneath him. The two men each grabbed a spade and practically dug him out.

Rhaenys and Corlys stormed in, awakened by the ruckus in their hall, and word that their son had been attacked once again. 

Rhaenys’s lips parted as she watched them heave out the body of her son from the hearth. They could not even rest him on his back for he had already gone stiff with death. His hair burnt off, the skin on his face torn apart as it shrunk against the lashing heat, the sound of its sizzling churned the stomach of Rhaenys as she fell to her knees, catching a better look of her son's face. Nothing of him remained to her, not even his face for her to recognise, all that was left, to prove that he was without a doubt her son were his clothes and even they barely remained. 

Her mouth fell agape as she grasped at her son's scorched remains, and out came an ear-splitting scream of an anguish none could ever imagine, nor would they want to. Rhaenys has now outlived both of her remaining children, her only children, who could ever long for such an achievement, who would ever want such a thing?

Corlys, awakened from his stupor, reaching out to his grieving wife. She did not long for his comfort, swatting away his hands as she mourned alone. What did he have to grieve? The death of his remaining legitimate legacy?

Her cries echoed throughout the hall of treasures, the hall where Rhaenys’s greatest and last treasure died. 

Daenerys shattered, as it all came falling down upon her all at once, her father was dead, and she will be forever haunted by how he had died. 

Tears began to cascade down her cheeks, her lips downturned to an ugly frown of sorrow. Her head shaking in denial as she sunk down to the ground, wrapping her arm around her legs as she rocked back and forth, tugging at her ear as she waited for herself to wake from this dreadful dream. She could not be living this, this could not be real, this world cannot be so cruel to do this to her. She shuddered as the cold truth engulfed her trembling body.

Corlys yanked the guard at his side to stand before him as he spat in his face “How can you let this happen! IN MY FUCKING HALL!” he shouted, pushing the startled guard towards the heart. He looked at the faces of the other ashamed guards within the room “TELL ME-!” His face dropped at the sight of the rocking princess on the stairs “get her out of here…” he muttered pointing to her, but the guards remained rooted in place, Corlys bellowed “GET THE PRINCESS DAENERYS AWAY, AWAY FROM HERE I TELL YOU.”

One of the guards was eager to get away from the Sea Snakes wrath, grabbing the petrified girl's stiff arm and tearing her up from the ground, practically dragging her back to her chambers. Corlys shook his head in disbelief of what had happened, even though it stood- laid, burning, sizzling, hissing before him. Another child of his gone, because of his ambition, and how he hated that it took this long to prove the consequence of his desires. That this was the cost of all he thought he had desired.

[storytowrite]

Masterlist

author's note: Hello beautiful people. Here's a Stray Kids masterlist, please enjoy, don't hesitate to comment and if you have any requests or questions just text me :) I hope you will like my work here. I will post more one shots or full stories in future.

And under each story is a link to this masterlist in case you would like to read about other members :)

Please enjoy and feel welcome ;3

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Bang Chan:

From now on, you are all mine Addiction Beyond the tears

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Lee Minho:

Don't Make me worry, princess Simon says Tango of two hearts

------------ You will always be mine (series masterlist)

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Seo Changbin:

Club crush Meeting by chance Silent devotion

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Hwang Hyunjin:

Arranged marriage My cousin’s fiancé The FINE Art Eternal embrace

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Lee Felix:

I think I miss you: |part 1|; |part 2| Crossing the line

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Han Jisung:

Drive The Ghost of you Between us:

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Kim Seungmin:

Don’t be late again Be careful what you wish for Beyond the competition

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Yang Jeongin:

Because I'm obsessed with you Veiled Desires

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OT8 series masterlists: Love Untold Seven Deadly Sins: soon

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BL stories:

When Fire meets Ice

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Requested stories

Happy face |part 1|; |part 2|

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Drabbles and other ideas

01 02

[kuroneko1815]

Shatter me with a kiss or spare me my heart

Welcome to another instalment of El’s bedtime stories. This didn’t work and she proceeded to remain awake for another two or three hours. Anyway, this was based on the Descendants 3 song ‘one kiss’ that she sent me, so I guess kind of sleeping beauty. @eloise175 please go to sleep on time, or at least pretend to sleep after I send you a ficlet.

Penelope stared at Callisto, sleeping peacefully and deeply. Too deeply that it was unnerving. One would think he was dead. With the slow breaths he took, his pale countenance, and the slow beat of his heart. She was unused to such a quiet and still Prince. If anything, he was how she often wished him to be when he vexed her so.

‘Twas a curse from one of his enemies, they declared. Though she knew it was none other than his wretched, miserable, shrivelled up old stepmother who had long since chased away the emperor from her bed with her odious looks and personality that had caused this curse.

They all thought their relationship to be false and full of artifice, as though they had only put on a show. But she knew her feelings ran deep, as the saying goes ‘the course of true love never did run smooth’ or something of the sort. And Penelope loved him, loved her handsome, valiant, gentle, magnificently irritating lover of a dragon prince to the very depths of her soul and more. She would kiss him awake if only she knew it would work. If only she had any certainty that he felt even the barest of feelings for her other than amusement and fondness.

If he felt even the tiniest bit the way she had, she would kiss him true and break this curse. For surely her love would be enough to fill up what love lacked from him? But she was afraid to find out, to know, that she was nothing more than a whim and a moment in his life.

Outside those doors she knew Sir Porter waited to see his liege awake. She could walk out and lie, say that it didn’t work and let him sleep on forevermore, let her live with the delusion that he loved her and all she needed to do was gather her courage.

Or she could kiss him now. She could shatter it all, her delusions and her heart and kiss him to put an end to this farce and walk away from him and everything that reminded her of him. Let some other woman try their chance at being his true love, let her kiss be what woke him, her love be what healed the man broken by war and death.

She tried to imagine living her life in that delusion, that uncertainty always looming over her, that what if? Even if she walked away, she would never move on unless she knew. A broken heart she may have after this, she decided as she leaned closer, but at least she would have closure. Let this be the last then. “I love you, Callisto Regulus.” She said as she gathered what love she had in her for him, this insurmountably vast ocean whose depths were untold, fathoms and leagues unmeasured and unexplored, and put it all into one gentle kiss as she let what sadness linger in her eyes and heart, let a tear or two fall as she pulled away from her unresponsive prince.

So that was it then. She straightened herself. “Goodbye.”

And just as she’d walked two steps, a hand reached out and pulled her back, down she fell on to the bed and onto his chest, stunned and dazed as she looked at those piercing red eyes of the man who held her tenderly.

“And where were you to go, Princess?” He asked, voice hoarse from sleep and disuse. It had taken days for her to get the message and rush to his side after all. “I’d not given you permission to leave.”

“Your highness! You’re awake!” She cried happily, arms lacing around his neck. It mattered not that he couldn’t say it. Not yet at least. For she at least knew what he felt for her with the breaking of the curse.

Seriously though, if you have any idea how many plot bunnies, WIPs, and half finished chapters, stories, or instalments I have, you’d understand why I haven’t posted anything big recently. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Stay healthy and safe everyone.