#v: no such thing as civilized

[emmaxmeyer]

⦕☥⦖

When the fence warned her about the bounty hunter in town, he'd at least given her a description to go by in case she was inclined to avoid the man in question. And for the most part, that was the intention, his reputation wasn't that great to begin with. But when she stopped by the saloon to get something to wet her whistle, there he was, plain as day. Great, she thought to herself, as she sat at the edge of the bar to nurse her drink. Maybe if she was lucky, he'd leave to do something else before she had to steal the wagon. @strictlycanon

[humming-fly]

Every now and then I'm reminded Real People with Actual Jobs use tumblr and I've always been legitimately curious what all you weird adults are up to when you're not on this site and with tumblr's New Poll Feature I can finally get an answer! (or the closest approximation of an answer possible with only 10 available options h a)

[pencilscratchins]

i have reached the part of the steddie hyperfixation where i make them domesticated men in their 50s. having a blast! (twitter) [ID in ALT text]

[liviatrivia]

Some young mandalorian Satine Kryze in these trying times?

[safyresky]

Grand Tour

Part I

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. They're fascinating little creatures!" The Prince tapped the glass of the jar he held in his hand. A fluffy little spike ball jumped a bit, spindly legs going wide as it ran all over the jar. "They travel in a big cloud and wreak havoc. They don't mean to, of course. They're just surviving. As we all are. But they do have a tendency to clump and stick to things and they do not come off that easy. We don't have these at the castle! The name is most definitely localized. It'll be exciting to study these closely and—"

"WAIT. THEY WHAT?"

The Prince frowned, turning around and shouting back at the farmer's fields. "THEY STICK."

"OH. WELL THAT EXPLAINS A LOT." The other Prince came around the corner of the farmer's shed, hopping on one foot, covered in pygmys. "Great news, Pyros, Jeremiah. I think I got them all."

"And they're going to eat right through your armour, Blaise. Marvin's going to kill you, you know."

"Not if my twin brother helps me out before then!"

Pyros tried very hard to look stern. He really, really, did. But they'd been travelling cross country for almost a month now and he was feeling quite good being away from home and Blaise looked really very funny with that monstrous big grin of his and he was going to be able to study a creature he could never get his hands on all cooped up inside the castle, so the smile did not slip out so much as it did explode across his face. He laughed to himself, waiting for Blaise to hop right beside him before summoning his staff. Mumbling to himself, he drew a few shapes around his brother, tapped the jar-ed pygmy with the top of his staff, and, once the jewel glowed, tapped the tip of Blaise's armoured foot. The Pygmys flew right off him.

"There we go! Better?"

"Much," Blaise grinned, summoning his own staff. Quickly drawing a circle in the ground he struck his staff in the middle of it. The Pygmys suddenly stopped bouncing around and were pulled into the circle, light stretching up around the perimeter and successfully trapping the sticky little fuzzy creatures within.

"Hmm. Nice. Think that'll hold for the night? I should be able to figure out how to dispose of them by the morning."

"Yeah, it'll hold. And we could always just. Y'know. Relocate them. We don't need to destroy them."

"Blaise, they're pests."

"Maybe they're useful somewhere else! Away from the crops and groves and what have you—"

"AHH! Your HIGHNESSESS!!"

Pyros looked appalled. "Is he calling the both of us? Really?"

Blaise snickered. "Hey, Marvin!" he said, eye contact with Pyros unbroken.

"No no no no NO don't you HEY MARVIN me, Prince Blaise. LOOK at the STATE of the two of you!" The angry drow thrust his hands out at them, face a deeper than usual shade of purple as he caught his breath. "Your armour is COVERED in some sticky substance and WHERE are your surcoats? Tippet? Robes?" He whirled, glaring at Pyros now, arms on his hips. "And YOU, Prince Pyros. WHERE is your ARMOUR?"

Both boys protested, both insisting they did not need the bits they were missing.

"Look, Marv, I've got the armour and Pyros has the robes and surcoats and royal colours so I think we're fine. I mean, between the two of us you have a whole dressed prince!" He grinned, throwing his arm over the drow's shoulders and bringing him in close.

The drow gulped, ducking a bit to avoid the fiery mess that was Prince Blaise's hair. "Your parents will have my head if I don't keep you shipshape and safe and that INCLUDES properly armed AND clean!"

"Marvin, please," Pyros said, raising a hand to placate. "Between the two of us, we'll be fine. We're both nearly masters at the warlock craft—some of us more so than others—and we do have our innate summer sprite lineage at our disposal as well."

"Which some of us excel in, more so than others."

"More so than others—"

Blaise stuck out his tongue with a very immature mlem.

Pyros returned the favour in kind, with a MLEM of his own.

"BOYS! This is really very unbecoming of the both of you—"

Pyros rolled his eyes as Blaise waved carelessly in the air with a very passionate, "Pish, posh."

"What? Pish posh?" Pyros looked perplexed. "Really? Where on Earth—"

"Winter."

"Of course."

"What? It's a fun turn of phrase!"

"You know, you are smitten with that season—"

"BOYS."

"Marv."

"Marvin."

Marvin closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Pressed his fingers together one by one before opening his eyes. "Prince Blaise. Prince Pyros. I really must insist—"

"We're fine, Marvin! Really. Look, I'll clean the sticky off in a snap!" And he did just that. Blaise snapped his fingers, the sticky residue left from the Pygmies peeling off of his armour and disappearing into thin air, the armour itself looking freshly polished. "Boom."

"You still aren't wearing—"

"And I'm not going to! Just like Pyros isn't going to wear the armour!"

"It'll only impede my evening's work."

Marvin wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to protest. "Fine. If you insist."

"And oh but we do!"

"Really and truly. I assure you, we will be just fine. You're dismissed, Marvin."

"Yeah, go enjoy the sights! We don't get to go out often, y'know."

Marvin's nose somehow wrinkled even more. "Very well."

Hands still clasped, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the royal entourage, immediately barking orders and dispersing them throughout the town.

"He's going to kill us."

"Oh yeah. One of these days, for sure. But that's a problem for later! For now, you've got fuzzballs to study, and I've got several other tenants to check in with. Unless you want to join—"

"Absolutely not, thanks. Jeremiah, if you wouldn't mind directing me to your local castor? Prisma, I believe is the name?"

"Sure, your highness. Big tower up the street. Very purple. Can't miss it."

"Much obliged. Blaise, I believe we'll have to stay overnight."

"I'll get Marv on it."

"Shout if he tries to kill you," Pyros said, heading down the path.

"He'll shout louder!"

Pyros laughed, turning at the gate and heading up the street.

Blaise watched him go, chuckling to himself. "Ah. I'd say poor Marv, but he makes it too easy. Anything else you need our assistance with, Jeremiah?"

"Well, there is one thing. It's not so much an assist more so as it is a concern. I'd take it to an audience day but uh, I don't often make it up your way."

Blaise smiled warmly. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well, ah. Your Majes-ah, Highness. Sorry, sorry. I mean no offence, I just—the titles—I—"

Blaise held up a hand. "Don't worry. Just Blaise is fine."

Jeremiah paled. "Are you certain?"

"The only people who care about titles are the King and Queen and Pyros and Marv and they are all not here so yes, I'm positive."

The magibean gulped. "Well, ah, Blaise." The corners of his mouth twitched; Blaise grinned. "I hope you don't take offence to this—"

"Why would I?"

"It's about her snowiness. I don't want to impose or, or suggest anything bad or untoward or—"

Blaise tensed. "Is she okay?"

"Ah, I imagine so, yes. I've not heard anything otherwise. It's just...the crops have been freezing."

"Pardon?"

"Every morning I've woken up and the crops have been lightly frosted. I would've attributed it to the East's natural tendency to frost over, on occasion, but that seemed illogical given the time of year...and then I saw her."

"Who?"

"The Season."

"Winter."

Jeremiah nodded. He wrung his hat in his hands, swallowed with an audible gulp. "Um. Every night. Around the same time. She appears just on the edge o'er there," he gestured vaguely to the farthest reaches of his fields. "She lingers for a bit. And then leaves. And every time I go out afterwards, everything is frosty. And it lasts through to the morning. It melts with the sun, but the frost isn't good for the crops and I can't afford any loss—"

Blaise held up a hand. The farmer stopped abruptly, his heart racing, breathing heavily.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Talked? To a SEASON?" Jeremiah blanched. "I'm just a mere farmer, I could never—"

"She's very friendly. Frosty exterior aside."

"Well, Prince Blaise, if it's not out of turn for me to say...you can interact with her. I cannot."

"Why not? I'm sure she'd stay and chat. She's one of Mother Nature's seasons, she won't ignore you if you have a concern—"

The farmer cleared his throat. "Castes, Your Majesty. Ah, Highness. Sorry."

"Blaise. Just Blaise."

"Right. Well. Being what you are—"

"A sprite?"

"A prince."

"Oh! Oh. Right."

"You travel the same circles as her, as it were. It's normal for you to just. Walk up to a season and talk to her. But not for farmers like me."

Blaise's shoulders dropped. His hair died down. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't mean to—"

"Ah, don't worry about it!" He perked back up, the brief moment of sadness gone as fast as it came on. It was enough to give Jeremiah whiplash. "Every night, you said?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"Perfect. Tell you what. If you wouldn't mind running over to Marv and letting him know as fancily as possible that Pyros and I have decided to stay the night here, and to make preparations. Y'know. Station guards wherever, find us some nice lodgings—"

"Oh! Okay, sure! So something like," he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding his hat behind his back. "The Princes have decided to stay overnight. Prince Blaise has asked me to ask you to make whatever preparations you see fit to, and to procure lodgings for them for the night. Like that?"

"PERFECT! Thanks, Jerry." Blaise clapped his arm, grinning. "And while you do that, I'll gather up the rest of the Pygmys for Pyros, and tonight I'll stake out your fields! If Winter comes by, I'll talk to her and see if I can figure out the frost for you."

Jeremiah brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...you're so hands on! The King isn't. We usually have to wait a few days before the appropriate measures are taken for various issues. You and your brother tackle them right away! It's not—it's unexpected. And, um, to besmirch the character of a Season in front of a royal?"

"Besmirch?" Blaise laughed. "Nah, you're just concerned, is all. And I appreciate you telling me. I'll get it sorted, don't you worry. I'm sure it's nothing."

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm sure you're right."

---

Lodgings set for the night and Pyros hard at work with the local castor, Blaise set himself up at the farthest reaches of Jeremiah's fields, watching the sun fade and the night creep in. The sky was clear as can be, a crisp chill in the air if his visible breath was anything to go off of.

Stars shone brilliantly. Blaise lay between the wheat stalks, hands behind his head, watching the stars as the night grew later still. Hair out, he was surrounded by darkness, enjoying the rare moment of silence and beauty.

Sure, they had stars at the castle. But it was never completely dark. There were always lanterns lit and soldiers marching about, armoured heavily compared to Blaise. There was so much world beyond the castle, and he loved the quarterly outings the King and Queen had the pair of them undertaking, despite knowing full well the reasoning behind it.

After all, he and Pyros were approaching eighteen-hundred. They were well past the age of majority and neither ruler had deemed who would be next in line yet, and it was coming up fast. It was obvious to him that they were trying to keep the two of them out of the way of their decision making. Especially with how Pyros kept asking. And how he himself kept not asking. In fact, Blaise was avoiding the topic entirely. It was clear as the night sky to him that they'd been sent out to give the King and Queen a break, or to test the pair of them, or maybe even both.

He tried not to think about it too much; tried not to bring it up. Pyros got all weird about it, and he'd missed his brother lately. See, going into the advanced studies with the Queen had been...

Intense.

Yeah.

It was intense.

Pyros had doubled down his already double-downed practise and study routine and they didn't get to hang out as often anymore. Not until they'd been assigned to do these outings. And Pyros had been all weird at first, but as their time out grew, his weirdness seemed to disappear, and things felt almost normal which was a very nice change as things were feeling very not normal back at the castle as of late and Blaise Did Not Care For It.

Deep breaths, he told himself. We're not home right now. We're out and about. Just enjoy the night. And also maybe keep an ear out, like you told Jeremiah you would.

His breathing evened out (he hadn't even realized it'd started speeding up) and he cast his gaze back up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle as the planet turned, the cosmic dust coming into view high above him. He sighed, smiling up at the sky, when suddenly a pale, round face obstructed his view, white tendrils of hair framing her flushed cheeks, blue eyes lit up.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"It just got even prettier, if you'll believe it."

She snorted, her head snapping back up—but not before Blaise caught the silly little grin. With one of his own, he sat up, staring up at the season before him.

"Ever the flatterer."

"You love it."

"I don't recall saying that."

Blaise smirked, bringing up a knee. He rested his elbow on it, holding his head in his hand. "You don't need to."

A delicate hand came up, blocking her mouth as she let out a little laugh.

Armour clanking, Blaise stood up, blinking briefly when he realized she was a lot farther down than he remembered.

"Why are you so small?"

She snorted. "I believe it's because you have gotten tall. Er. Still. I'm going to throw out my neck at the rate you're going, Blaise—er, your highness."

"No need for that! It's just us, Winter."

"Oh! Good! In that case!" She shifted, adopting her regal stance, folding her hands in front of her dress. "Blaise. What on Earth are you doing laying in the fields this far east and this late at night?!"

"Waiting for you, actually."

The Season flushed, her posture relaxing. "Oh! That's sweet. Unless I'm in trouble, of course." She paused for a moment, curiosity overtaking the flush. "You'd sneak out for me?"

"I mean, if you asked, probably! But I'm not sneaking around. It's, uh, the quarterly check in."

"Already?"

"Well, it has been three months since the last one."

"Good heavens. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"

"It would seem so, but you know, I've never asked. Does he?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure! I've never thought to ask either. Perhaps Mother knows?"

"Maybe. You should ask her."

"I'll forward that to management. Right! Now then! You haven't answered my question. What are you doing laid out in the fields this late at night?"

"Waiting for you."

She blinked, dumbstruck. "You were serious?"

"Well, yeah!" Blaise chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, sparks trailing behind him as it lit up. He took a moment to admire the way the firelight played on her face. There were angles at play, breaking through the childhood roundness. He wasn't the only one who'd grown, it seemed.

"Blaise? Earth to his highness? You there?"

"Yes! Right." He cleared his throat. "Jeremiah—the tenant who lives here? He had a bit of a concern he brought up earlier today when we rolled into town. Apparently his crops are frosting over every night, and though it melts during the day, he's concerned about the long term exposure effects. He thought it was you doing it. Says you've been stopping by every night?"

"Indeed I have! But not for the reason he thinks. Actually, this is great timing because I have a concern to raise with you."

"Oh?"

"It's about Jeremiah's crops. They're frosting over!"

Blaise snorted. "You don't say?"

She nodded, giggling quietly to herself. "Come along, your highness. I'll show you. Right this way!" And without waiting for him to reply, Winter grabbed his hand and led (dragged) him to the corner of the field Jeremiah had pointed out earlier that day. She pulled him down, the pair squatting in the stalks, staring at the wheat. She let go, keeping her hands above her shoulders and maintaining eye contact. "See how my hands are way up here?"

Blaise nodded.

"Right. Well. Look at the wheat."

Blaise did, and immediately found himself frowning as frost crept over the sheaths, tickling the very tops of the plants and settling in for the night. It stretched on, right through the entirety of the field. He glanced back over at Winter: hands still up; no obvious magical signature showing. He felt the magic in the air around them. Her magical signature was not pulling at the threads.

It wasn't her.

"So that shouldn't be doing that."

"What's worse is it won't listen to me."

"What?"

"Watch."

Winter stood up, the heads of the wheat tickling her elbows. Her hands took on a white glow as she pulled them back, and the frost stayed perfectly comfortable on the spikes of the wheat. She gestured towards it violently, the white glow gone, the most frustrated pout on her face. "See?"

"That's really weird. I thought all frost and snow and wintry stuff listened to you?"

"Ah, but even we seasons have our limits. Sometimes nature takes its course and we let it do so. Mother Nature says that perhaps this is one of those times; perhaps nature is trying to tell us something."

"So why doesn't she just tell you straight up?"

"I think she's using it as a lesson. Anyway, I've started my nightly rounds here every day for the past few weeks, trying to see if I can make the frost go away, but nothing I do seems to work! So I looked closely at the pattern, and though the frost is mirroring the shapes of the wheat, there's a slight little group of curls that look quite similar to the pattern that usually resides within the frost in the Snowy Lands to the North of here."

"But it would only be doing that if the crops were on Northern holdings."

"Precisely. I think the current land holder is committing a spot of encroachment. I haven't had a chance to look further into it, but given the facts..."

"It seems likely the land Jerry's using for this year's harvest is actually in the North and not the East."

"Exactly. And I don't think Jerry knows this! I think the Lord here is trying to keep it on the down low." She squinted for a moment. "Leo? Zeo? Neo! That's the one. Bit of a prick, if I recall correctly."

Blaise snorted. "Checks out. He's always complaining about his holdings when we host court." Blaise rubbed his chin. "If he's trying to gain more land, he'll want to do it quietly and carefully. The royal surveyors are the best at their jobs. It would take quite a bit to trick them."

"Precisely. And! We are fairly close to the border right now! The town beyond here is a hub where denizens from both the North and East meet up, do business, and so on. If you played your pieces right, it could be a fairly easy point to start growing your holdings illicitly. Especially since the North is so sparsely populated."

Blaise continued to rub his chin. "That's a hefty accusation."

"Indeed. But it has merit. If you look at the other half of the field, the one that's closer to his farmstead, the crops there are all fine. Not a single bit of frost on there."

"Hmm. Interesting." Blaise stopped rubbing his chin. "I suppose I should go take a look." He smiled softly at her and held out an arm. "Walk with me?"

Winter blinked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ah, certainly."

She carefully grabbed his arm, her cool touch frosting the burnished metal of his armour. Careful to weave between the rows (least they accidentally crush the wheat), they made their way over to the other side of the fields, where sure enough, not a smidgen of frost graced the stalks.

"See?"

"Huh. That's...okay. I mean. It's not okay, obviously, but I didn't think "land stealing conspiracy" would be on the list this fast."

"But you expected it?"

"It wouldn't of surprised me. At any rate, I'll have to work on this after the check in." He rubbed his chin again. "And I'll have to figure something out for the short term."

"Perhaps, in the interim, there's something I can do to help? I'm sure one of my sisters can move the wheat consequence free while you get this sorted. This way Jeremiah doesn't have any loss? Lady knows what Neo would do if he knew we were on to him."

Blaise's hand stilled. "Oh? You think your sisters would be able to do that?"

"Oh, please. They have this very strange soft spot for me. They would quite literally do anything for me."

"Even Spring?"

"...sometimes. And if not, I can be, ah, very persuasive."

Blaise laughed. "I believe it. Are you feeling okay?"

"Quite all right. Why do you ask?"

"Your hair is melting."

She flushed, her free hand reaching up and touching her very thawed roots. "Oh! Well. That happens sometimes."

"Oh?"

"Yours is literally on fire. And I've been near you for a good moment now."

"I see," Blaise replied. (He did not, in fact, see).

"I'm sure you do. Now, you don't think it's too late to talk to Jeremiah, do you? I'd like to apologize to him and let him know one of us seasons will be on it post haste. He and his family are probably asleep, though, aren't they?"

"We'll go take a gander. He said he'd been seeing you these past few nights, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was still up."

"Very well." Winter tightened her hold on his arm. "Lead the way."

Seconds after they came into view of the small house, Jeremiah popped out the back door, clicking it shut quietly behind him, candle in his hand. "Your Highness! And Your Snowiness!" Frazzled, he bowed twice, his hair nearly catching fire.

"Oh, no need for formality, really. It's much too late in the night for that. And pardon my intrusion. I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not your, uh. Season-y-ness."

"Just Winter is fine, please. Don't fret. Sorry for the crop fright. I've touched base with Prince Blaise," she gestured towards him, as though her hand wasn't still looped around his arm. "And we think we've figured out the issue. It's all a little hush hush right now, and we'd both appreciate your discretion."

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Now! In the interim! About your crops! Unfortunately I cannot control the frost that seems to have made itself cozy in your fields. But! My sisters can control the wheat! I'll talk to them and we'll be by in the next week or so to move the crops over to a portion of land that is not being assailed by frost."

"Oh, well, that sounds nice and all, but the unplanted fields are to remain fallow this year, y'know, to replenish the soil and the. And the like." He scratched the top of his head nervously.

"Oh, I'm familiar with the idea, yes. Of course, my sisters are more well versed in it and my mother is, of course, the expert. We can take care of replenishing the soil just this once while we work on the frosty problem back there."

"Really?"

"Of course! Our duty is to maintain balance and help the people, sir. You are one of those people."

"But I'm just a farmer—"

"Ah, pish posh! You are a denizen of Crystal Springs same as any of us, castes be damned."

Blaise guffawed. Jeremiah blanched.

"Does that work for you, Jeremiah? And would your highness be alright with this arrangement?"

"I believe Jeremiah's fields actually supply the castle, too, so yes, absolutely. This'll give me some time to confer with the King and Queen and see if we can get to the bottom of the land issue."

"Then that's settled! Jeremiah, I will be in touch. You best be off now. It's late and you have kids, do you not?"

"Yes ma'am. Two. Very little, quite rambunctious. Give the wife and I a run for our money some days."

Winter laughed. "Then you best be getting some rest. Worry not." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "The Seasons and I will take care of your crop issue, okay?"

He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yes ma'am."

"And really, just Winter is fine. Now then! Off you go!"

Nodding once more, Jeremiah turned around, letting out a proper yawn as he made his way back inside the house. The pair waited for a moment until the final light glowing in the back of the house went out.

Winter hummed. "That takes care of that, then."

"You are a very impressive woman. Have I ever told you that?"

"Haven't the foggiest," she lied, smiling up at him coyly. "I do apologize for taking charge there, ah, your highness."

"Pfft. Don't! Please. I…it’s nice to not have to be all formal and what have you. Can I escort you anywhere?"

"No, I best be off. I've only just started my rounds, you know! There's a whole half of the globe waiting for me tonight beyond these healing waters."

"Globe?"

"Yes. My job takes me all over it, Blaise."

"Huh. I guess it would, wouldn't it? I just...I never really thought about it, you know?"

Winter watched as Blaise looked thoughtful. Smiling to herself, she let out another little hum, tugging on the arm she still held captive. "Perhaps I can escort you to your lodgings for the night?"

"Oh, no need! But I'd ah, appreciate the fine company on the walk."

"Lead the way, then. And do elaborate, if you please."

"Elaborate? How?"

"You've never thought of the world beyond Crystal Springs? Ever? At all?"

They took the path that Pyros had trodden hours earlier, heading straight into the heart of the town instead of hanging the left to the tall purple tower in the distance, where the windows glowed with light, magic sparking right out the chimney. The Royal Guard patrolled the street, local guards in tow the closer they got to the centre.

"No. Never."

"Not ever?"

"Well...okay, maybe I'm a bit of a liar. I have thought about it. But I've been taught all my life that it's unsafe, y'know? As most of the people are taught. That ordibeings would hunt us for our magic again the moment we left the safety of the Springs. So I try not to think about it, and I try to enjoy the cross-continent trip here every time we're sent out. It's nice to remember that there are places, beautiful places that exist outside the castle walls. To remember why Pyros and I are doing what we're doing."

"And even more beautiful places exist outside the continent! Beyond the oceans and the icebergs. There are a whole different set of stars on the other side of the globe at night! It's amazing. It's beautiful."

"And dangerous."

"Sometimes, yes. But not as bad as it was during the Wild Magic era. Most ordibeings have their own set of beliefs and their own versions of magic; they don't really need ours. Oh, they have stories, of course. But to them, they are simply stories and I'd wager that were we to venture out of Crystal Springs...we'd be okay. I mean, my sisters and I are! So is my Mother, and we're out of the continent nightly practically! And the Legendary Figures, they're all quite all right, the ones who roam about."

"Yeah, but they're Legendary Figures!"

"So?"

"I mean...they have more power at their disposal; they don't need to worry when they go out. But we do. That's why we were brought here, right?"

"So the history books say. But that's the thing, Blaise. It's history. We're very stuck in some ancient ways here, when you think about it, and I know you do."

He was silent as they approached a cozy main street, taverns and inns still lit up for the night, though the music had ebbed and silence had descended.

"Look, Blaise. I go beyond the Springs and I'm not a Legendary Figure."

"But you're a season."

"And technically, so are you, you know. We're the same type of sprite! Seasonal as opposed to elemental."

"I know, but I wouldn't want to step on Summer's toes. I wouldn't be allowed to."

"Says who?"

"Who do you think?"

Winter scoffed. "Ah, they're old. Very stuck in the old ways. Sometimes I think that's a bad thing."

"...Sometimes I think so, too. I mean. Mom and Dad are all about power and they interlink it with safety all the time! And when we're out here, I don't have to think about all that! And Pyros stops thinking about it too and it's kinda nice, you know? I mean, they've been here and in power for thousands of years. To think the world is still the same is...insane!"

Winter laughed. "Tell me something, Blaise. Would you still sneak out for me?"

Blaise blinked. "Oh. Most definitely. Between you and me, your snowiness," he leaned in, close to her ear. "I hate being in the fucking castle all the time."

Winter laughed. "I can't believe the magic let you get away with that!"

"I'm that passionate about it! That's why I love these outings so much! I'm not in the castle and," they came to a stop, Blaise spinning her about as the guards in front of the nicest inn in the sector stood to attention and dutifully looked away. "I get to see lovely people like you."

"Well, maybe you should accompany me out one of these days."

"Out like out out? Like out there?"

Understanding the sudden need for less words, Winter nodded. "Oh yes."

Blaise paused, fighting back a grin. "I think I'd like that. A lot."

"Oh, brilliant!" Clearing her throat as the guards shifted, Winter stepped back. "Thank you for the escort, your highness," she said, dutifully casting her eyes down and curtsying most graciously.

"Of course, your snowiness. It was my pleasure," he replied, placing his arm across his chest and bowing back. "Be safe tonight."

"Of course. And good luck on your travels."

Nodding at one another (and biting back grins something fierce), Blaise watched as Winter turned on her heel expertly, fully thawed tresses bouncing about. She nodded most graciously to the royal guards (the few that had been giving the Prince a moment of privacy as best as they could clanking as they stood to attention, scrambling to salute) and disappeared on the spot, the smattering of snowflakes left in her wake drifting down his way.

He gazed goofily up the street, maybe for a bit too long, only coming to his senses when one of the guards beside him cleared his throat. Straightening up, he waved (the guards happily standing down) and walked up the path and into the inn as regal and posh as possible, only dropping the act and grinning to himself when he closed the door to the inn shut behind him.

"And at what time do you think this is? And looking like THAT?!?!? And WHAT is IN your ARMOUR?!!"

Blaise frowned in quite the over-dramatically grotesque manner, one eye squinting in distaste as he plucked a tiny bit of wheat out of his couter. He held it up in front of him, Marv an angry purple blur behind it.

"It would appear to be wheat, Marv."

"And why is there wheat in your armour?"

"Because I was doing my do diligence and investigating a wheat problem in the fields."

"Hmm." Folding a napkin, he got up gracefully, surveying the prince with an unamused look. "And are you sure you acquired it like that? And not, per chance, tousling around in fields with a certain high ranking season?"

Blaise glowered. His hair burnt taller and hotter. He flicked the wheat away, approaching Marv at his full height. "I would appreciate it, Marvin, if you would refrain from using such crude language when talking about any of the seasons."

"And I would appreciate it if you made it easy to be your steward."

Blaise rolled his eyes, hair dimming. "I'm not the one you should worry about, Marv." He stepped around the drow, heading towards the stairs. "You and I both know that." He paused by Marv's table, grabbing a bun from the small bowl of bread in front of him. "You're not staying up to wait for him, are you?"

"Indeed I am."

Blaise snorted, half chewed bread going flying. "He's not coming back here for the night."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He'll spend the night with the castor."

"No he will not."

"Yes he will." Blaise spun on his heel, clanking up the first two steps. "So you MIGHT AS WELL get some sleep. You're so grouchy when you don't."

Marv's undignified yell gave Blaise great satisfaction as he bounded up the stairs, polishing off his pilfered bread and ducking into his room (one of two heavily guarded doors). He chuckled to himself, throwing off the armour (the burnished metal casually floating itself into a neat pile) and the layers underneath until he was left in nothing but his briefs. He slid into bed, arms behind his head as he thought of the world outside the healing waters and well beyond the floating icebergs.

---

The morning dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do in the early fall. Outside, the grass was crisp; a fresh layer of frost slowly melting as the sunlight hit it.

Up and at 'em and fully armoured once more, Blaise bounded down the stairs, barely able to withhold his snort when he saw Marv snoring at his table, head on his arms. Carefully, he pried a napkin out from under the bread basket, conjuring a pencil and writing something down very fast. Satisfied, the pencil disappeared and Blaise crumpled the napkin in his fist, sliding up to the counter top and clearing his throat.

Marv shot up. "Gah! Your Highness!"

"Morning Marv! I guess he didn't come in last night, huh?"

Marv cleared his throat, stepping up and righting his table. With a wave of his hand, his robes straightened themselves out, his hair looking less bedhead-y and nice and neat. "I am…unsure."

"Mm. That checks out. Ah! Tilly!"

The barkeep let out a meep, rushing to curtsy. "How can I help ya, your highness?"

"I was just wondering if there was a washroom I could use down here." He glanced over at Marv surreptitiously. The Drow was distracted, talking to Kira, the chief of security. With a flick of his wrist, Blaise slid the crumpled napkin towards the barkeep, glancing down at it and back up at her.

Catching his gaze, she reached out and uncrumpled the napkin. Her eyes skimmed the words quickly, brightening as she finished reading the hastily scrawled message. "Ah! Of course! It's just behind the staircase! There's a hallway. Make a right, and it'll be right on the end."

Blaise grinned. "Thank you, Tilly."

She bobbed her head. "Of course!"

Chuckling to himself, Blaise grabbed the crumpled up napkin, crushing it up in his palm and reducing it to ash. He followed her instructions, grinning when he turned the corner and sure enough, there was the back exit, door wide open as staff brought in the groceries for the day.

Excusing himself politely, Blaise scrambled around the staff, ignoring the scrambly bobs as he looked up and down the street for any sign of his counterpart.

There was none.

Avoiding the front of the inn, Blaise put out his hair, blending in with the crowd as best as he could and reaching out with his mind.

He was close. Just coming down the path and turning towards the main street.

Blaise rushed past the taverns, turning up the street (briefly skidding), relieved when he saw Pyros coming down the path. His gaze was intensely focused on an object in his palm as he headed down the way, looking very, very dishevelled.

Hey. Hey. Hey. Look up.

Blinking, Pyros looked up, making eye contact with Blaise, who was grinning maniacally and waving boisterously, in Pyros's very humble opinion.

I didn't realize you could wave as loud as you could speak.

Blaise laughed, bounding up the street and coming to a stop beside Pyros, turning on his heel and falling into step. I am a sprite of many talents! He smirked, his hair lighting up with a soft whoosh. We have a problem.

We do?

Well, you do. Blaise cleared his throat, pointing to the bottom corner of his own mouth. "You got something there. What is that, Jam? Jelly? Ketchup? Dye?!"

"I've yet to wash up. Figured I could do that in whatever rooms Marvin secured for us and have a nice breakfast before getting down to business."

"Not to be confused with the business you have obviously already gotten down to."

Pyros glanced down at his outfit. It was...wrinkled; dishevelled. The, uh...dye (lip paint. It was 100% lip paint) was smudged on his face AND his hands, he realized, and Lady only knew where else! His outfit was covered in magical residue and glitter that seemed very not magical. "Okay, and? What's your point?"

"Marv knows you didn't come in last night. Your royal hinny is screwed and not in the fun way I imagine it to have been last night."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't imagine my royal hinny in any capacity whatsoever."

Blaise snickered. "It's not literal."

"Good."

"Thankfully! My royal hinny is very clever and very suave and snuck out to intercept you which thank the LADY I did because voila!" Blaise snapped his fingers, and Pyros was suddenly looking as pristine as he would've had he gone home and done his morning toilette before emerging for the day. "All fixed up, and now it'll simply look like we are walking back to town together, having gotten up to none shenanigans whatsoever last night."

Pyros flashed him a wry smile. "Really? None shenanigans? From you?"

"None whatsoever."

"That'll be the day. And oh, there he is. Right on time."

"Brace yourself. I already had my lecture. He's had all night to think of yours."

"WHERE have you BEEN!" Marv marched down the street, three guards behind him, Kira at his side. "I turn around for one second and you disappear—"

"Very unwise, Blaise."

"And YOU! I leave you alone for a night and you DON'T come HOME?!"

"I was busy!"

"Yeah you were. Grrrr—oof."

Blaise rubbed his stomach as Pyros retracted his arm, standing at full height and looking down his nose at Marvin. "As you were well aware, Marvin, we had a sticky—" (a pause for Blaise's snort and another whack, on the chest this time) "—situation to find a solution for. And since Blaise requested it to be non-lethal, it required a bit of an…intense magical research session."

"You could've sent a letter! A scry, a fireball literally ANYTHING! You are a prince! The both of you! If something happened to either of you that would be very very bad all around."

"Ah, please. We can handle ourselves."

"And if anyone did anything to Blaise short of killing him, they'd give him right back. Ten minutes, tops."

"They'd give you back in five."

"Is that a challenge?!"

"NO! There will be NO challenges of this particular sort!" Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am just looking out for the two of you. And if the both of you MUST mess about in the evenings at least elicit some decorum and for Goddess's sake let me know."

"Mess about?" Pyros raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "None shenanigans, eh?"

"None whatsoever."

"Hm. How's Winter doing?"

"Very well, thanks."

"Lady help me. At LEAST you are presentable, Prince Pyros."

Blaise flashed him a smug look. Pyros sighed. Thank you.

His twin grinned. Anytime.

"Feel better, Marv?"

"There is nothing short of an overnight stay at the springs that could make me feel better."

"We'll add it to the itinerary for you. So! Pyros! How'd it go?"

"Very well! We managed to isolate the sticky bit of the pygmys and extract it from them, reducing them to harmless little fluffy. Things. As for the sticky secretion, Prisma had the delightful idea to isolate it and use it to make a new kind of adhesive. She wants to test it first, so we only have the one at present.” He lifted the object in his hand—an unmarked tube. Also slightly covered in glitter. “She'll be joining us shortly to do just that."

"Where is she now?"

"Placing little sticky absorbing devices across town. This way, should the pygmys start secreting once more, the devices will use the magic we imbued within them to take it right off and store it."

"And the pygmys?"

"Can now bounce around no more harmful than, say, a tumbleweed or Blaise when you wake him up too late in the day."

"Hey!"

"He's right, your highness."

Blaise made an undignified sort of moaning and or groaning sound in his throat. "Whose side are you on here, Marv?"

"Mine. And it is a lonely, fruitless side, let me tell you. Now then. We've much to discuss and itinerary changes to make so, let's go eat and then go about our day. I shall have a setting put out for this castor of yours, Prince Pyros."

"Very good."

"Shall I set one for her snowiness, Prince Blaise?"

Now Pyros grumbled while Blaise held back a snort. "No, no. That, uh, won't be necessary. She'll be coming by at a later date to touch base with the tenant whose fields are frosting over. She's, uh, not joining us for breakfast." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

Pyros smirked. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you.”

“Immensely.”

“Shame we can’t switch.”

“Alas! She is a season, not a talented castor.”

Deciding against chiding the pair of them for their silly little banter, Marvin pressed his fingertips together. "Hmm. Very well. Come along, you two."

Clapping, Marvin set back towards the inn, hands behind his back, head held high. The detachment of guards that had surrounded him now surrounded the Twin Princes, ushering them forward while preventing them from backtracking or making any other attempts to escape and or engage in tomfoolery, as it were. After all, they had a schedule to keep. Rounds to continue on and issues to address. Being behind simply would not do. Not for Blaise, not for Pyros, not for Marv or any other members of the royal detail that'd been sent out to keep the peace, as it were.

---

Days later the Twin Princes found themselves once more shut into their carriage, both boys looking out the window with similar, thoughtful frowns. The carriage rumbled on, rain splattering the rooftop as the sun shone brightly.

Thoughts in faraway places well beyond the sun showery path before them, Blaise let out a melancholy sigh.

"Hmm. That's not good. You're usually rearing to get to the South."

"I do love me a good beach."

Pyros smiled to himself, glancing back out the window. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

He could ask mentally. Didn't even need to ask; could just pop on into his head and figure it out for himself. It's not like he blocked his end of their connection; neither of them did.

But it was a lot more fun to outright ask.

"Hey, Blaise."

"Mm."

"What're you thinking about?"

Success! His twin smiled through the hand pressed onto his face, the severity dropping and revealing the more carefree brother he was used to. "Land disputes. You?"

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. See, here's the thing." He leaned forward in his seat, hands folded between his knees. "The word pygmy is just that! A word! It usually denotes something smaller than the regular. And they used it to describe those small fluffy things."

"What would you call them instead?"

"Hmm. Don't know. Fluffs? Fuzzes? Fuzzies? Fuzzballs? Furries? Furbies?"

"I don't like that last one."

"Nor do I. Furby sounds like it could be a curse word. Like, a good and proper curse you'd cast, not a cuss word." He paused briefly, taping his nose. "Now, here's the thing. If the word pygmy denotes a smaller version of something, it begs a question."

Blaise dropped his hand from his face, giving Pyros his full, undivided attention. "Go on."

"If these pygmys are called that by the locals simply because they are small, is there a bigger pygmy? A giant pygmy to rule them all? A fuzzball the size of both of us?"

Blaise laughed, a right and proper loud laugh. "Maybe that's why they're so sticky? Maybe it's because they stick together and make a big ol' clump of fuzzball and THAT'S the one fuzzball to rule them all!"

Pyros lit up. "Ou! I didn't even think of that possibility! Now, IF that's the case, where is it? Where does it reside? What does it want? And should we find it?"

"Or will it find us..."

Now Pyros found himself snorting, the pair of them laughing up a storm to out storm the sun shower outside.

The carriage rumbled on, bringing the princes closer and closer to their next stop, their laughter echoing about the entourage. Guards perked up; Blaise's horse whinnied happily, trotting up to the window and trying his best to shove his little head into the carriage with them.

On the covered seat of the carriage, Kira chuckled, elbowing Marvin gently.

"You gotta admit. It's nice to see the two of them getting along and in such high spirits."

"Kira, if I admit that, I am sure it will be my downfall. I have a reputation to keep, you know. Lady only knows what'll happen if I destroy it. All my credit!"

She laughed. "Of course, of course. Goddess forbid."

She looked away, smiling to herself, because even Marvin could not hide the slight smile their jovial (and, quite frankly, very unbecoming of their station, if you asked him) hooting and hollering brought to his face.

[gorillaxyz]

good fucking night gang ♥️ wish me luck on my amhis mock tomorrow. im gonna do so bad. i tried revising dates but idk a good way to do itttt i only remember alger hiss case when truman became president when the u2 crisis happened when the korean war started and ended... and orher foreign policy stuff like that. but also when to secure these rights was

i bet you the firsy question tomorrow will be abt the civil rights campaigns during each or both presidencies LOL kill me....... i know all the facts just not the daaaatessssssss😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[fandom-fae]

honestly. on one hand. i really really really like the version of peter pan from once upon a time, in the way that the actor does a phenomenal job, the character has great dialogue and is just overall really really enjoyable to watch imo. but then i remember how he kept wendy in a cage for like 300 years and like

i stan him but that is so. AGSJDHJDHDJ. like i feel SO BAD for wendy there. this poor girl honestlyyy. like. that’s so disturbing honestly. like i can’t imagine much things that would mess with someone’s psyche more than that. like if he had just kept her on the island then fine, but constantly in that tiny hanging cage??? big OOF.

like i’m sure she’d need like permanent therapy afterwards and even then how would you even begin to unpack that in therapy???? like??????

[fratboycipher]

Air Canada essentially argued that "the chatbot is a separate legal entity that is responsible for its own actions,"

the implications of this argument are staggering and also hilarious

This just in: Air Canada is absolutely fucking terrible, surprising no one.

[emmaxmeyer]

⦕☥⦖

With the pen in hand, Emma smoothed out the map and studied it for a moment. She wanted to make sure she was as accurate as possible to Colm's locations as well as the rest of his gang. She tapped the paper to get his attention.

"Now here-? I heard his boys were camped out around here. BUT, here and here? Those are more diversion hangouts. Colm himself? I heard he was seen recently-" She circled the two towns that were in close proximity on the map. "in both these areas. And frequently. He's probably real close."

@strictlyoc from x

[torpublishinggroup]

Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!

Rakesfall by @adamantine

They met as children in the middle of the Sri Lankan civil war. Later, in a demon-haunted wood, an act of violence linked them and propelled their souls on a journey through the ages. As they reincarnate ever deeper into the future, a truth emerges: Some stories take more than one lifetime to tell.

Running Close to the Wind by @ariaste

In this queer pirate fantasy, Avra Helvaçi has accidentally stolen the single most expensive secret in the world. To avoid capture, he flees to the open sea, where only his on-again, off-again ex aka pirate Captain Teveri az-Ḥaffār can help him survive, profit, and become a legend.

Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Something evil is buried deep in the desert. It wants your body and wears your skin. Welcome to Camp Resolution, a queer conversion center where everyone leaves a different person. In 1995, seven queer teens were abandoned here by their parents, but survived. Sixteen years later, they’re scarred and broken, but back to face an evil that threatens the world. 

Kinning by Nisi Shawl

In this alternate history where barkcloth airships soar and former colonies claim freedom from imperialist tyrants, the identity of the island of Everfair still wavers. Victorious in the wake of the Great War, a new threat looms. Can Everfair continue to serve as a symbol of hope for anticolonial movements around the world, or will it fall to forces within and without? 

Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea by @rebeccathornewrites

Can one of the Queen’s private guard and the most powerful mage in existence leave their lives behind to settle down in their new bookshop that serves tea? This cozy fantasy is steeped in sapphic romance and nestled on the edge of dragon country. 

The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab

Once there were four worlds, nestled like pages in a book, each pulsing with fantastical power and connected by a single city: London. After a desperate attempt to prevent corruption and ruin in the four Londons, there are only three. Now the worlds are going to collide anew—brought to a dangerous precipice by the discoveries of three remarkable magicians.

Now available in paperback!

The Archive Undying by @emcandon

This is a story about misplaced faith, complicated love, so much self-loathing, and yeah—giant robots. Plugged into his AI god when its apocalyptic corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to things. Unending life’s tough when intimacy is somehow scarier even than either of the warring police states set on turning you into a weapon or the rogue undead mecha-fragment of your old god that wants to eat you. 

Now available in paperback!

The Bell in the Fog by Lev AC Rosen

A dazzling historical mystery that dives into the shadowy, closeted world of the Navy, emerging in the gay bars of the city. It’s a whirlpool of missing people, violent strangers, and scandalous photos in 1952 San Francisco. 

Now available in paperback!

Celebrate Pride with more titles from Tor Publishing Group here!

[gollancz]

The synopsis says: “It’s the hottest summer on record and London is dying. Prices are high, pay is low, and stressed commuters are packed on to London Underground trains again like the pandemic never happened. To add to the misery, the temperatures underground just keep climbing and climbing, the heat trapped in the clay with nowhere to go. 

“Five travellers on an unlucky tube carriage find themselves bound together one morning as witnesses to a single horrific event – an event they can’t quite seem to remember. They make an unlikely team: weary tube driver, a disillusioned civil servant, an ambitious city trader, an overwhelmed hotel worker and an unhoused young man just trying to get by – but now they must come together to confront what they have seen and stop it in its tracks. Because there’s something lurking in the stifling darkness and labyrinthine tunnels that run below London… something old, something vicious, and something very, very hungry.” 

I couldn't be more excited to be working with @jonnywaistcoat on his next two novels! This is just more of what he does best - pulling apart the very seams of society and giving me very specific new sleep paralysis demons, and somehow getting me to say thank you afterwards.

And if you're near London next month, why not pop along to Gollanczfest to hear him chat all things horror with Joe Hill and V. V. James? Tickets are still available:

[tojisun]

!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)

when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."

the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?

well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.

it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.

"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."

simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.

then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.

"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.

you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.

"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."

simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.

"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.

"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"

and that was that.

"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.

cute.

---------

"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.

"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"

he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.

god, he loves seeing the size difference.

you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.

he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.

you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.

you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"

and who is simon to say no to that?

"of course, love."

he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.

he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.

glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.

he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?

---------

johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"

his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.

"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."

johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.

"…are they safe for use?"

"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.

simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"

john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."

simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."

the squad is still quiet. waiting.

simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."

he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.

"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.

simon grumbles all the way back to his room.

---------

simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.

he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.

but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.

nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.

he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.

"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.

"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"

you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.

still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.

(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)

---------

simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.

because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.

“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”

simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.

---------

the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.

it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?

it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.

"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.

finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.

"what's it?"

"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.

johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.

"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"

"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."

oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.

wait.

"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.

it's still a fucking blob.

christ.

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

Having a decent conversation and discussion about a specific subject, usually with two different viewpoints: The other person all of a sudden: Well, clearly you haven't watched enough ____ to know what you're talking about. What is with it with these fake fans???

My need to overthink/over analyze everything:

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[kckt88]

Stake My Claim.

Summary:

Aemond knows his older brother lusts after his wife, so he decides to show Aegon what he will never have.

Warning(s): Angst, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviour, Dark Aemond, Uncle/Niece Incest, Begging, Smut, Kissing, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V, Mutliple Orgasms, Multiple Positions, Squirting, Spit Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Dom/Sub Aemond, Forced Voyeurism, Threat Of Murder.

AEMOND x O.C NIECE

Word Count: 8972

FILTHY/BASICALLY PORN WITH A SPRINKLE OF PLOT!

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Prince Aemond Targaryen stood in the grand hall of the Red Keep, his violet eye sharp and brooding as he observed his older brother, Aegon.

The grand hall was filled with courtiers and lords, but Aemond’s attention was focused solely on one thing — the way Aegon’s gaze lingered far too long on his wife Vaelynn.

 Aemond’s fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword, his jaw tightening as he watched Aegon, who was supposed to be speaking with one of the bannermen, glance surreptitiously in Vaelynn's direction.

It boiled Aemond’s blood. Aegon had his own wife, Helaena, yet he was letting his gaze drift hungrily toward Vaelynn as it often did.

It was as though Aegon saw everything in the world as his for the taking, as though he had some divine right to whatever he desired, including what belonged to Aemond.

He felt a surge of possessiveness, hot and fierce, rise within him.

Vaelynn was Aemond's — his wife, his partner. Originally their union had been one of family politics, and a desperate attempt to prevent the Targaryen bloodline from splintering into civil war.

It had been his father's final command, a last, dying plea for peace before Viserys had taken his final breath. Queen Rhaenyra, after dispatching those who conspired against her ascent had honoured her father's will and married her eldest daughter to Aemond.

A marriage that had finally united the two warring sides.

But Aemond’s devotion to his wife went far beyond a mere duty to his father’s wishes. Vaelynn was more than just a symbol of peace or a political pawn.

She was his wife, his future Queen, his precious jewel. Her long silver hair shimmered in the light of the torches, her Targaryen features regal and fierce, and every time Aemond looked at her, he was reminded that for once, he had something Aegon did not.

The thought of it thrilled him. Aegon, the first son from their father’s second marriage, had the ease of a life that required no true effort. Aegon, who had never needed to fight for anything.

Aegon, who had never known the pain of loss the way Aemond had when he'd claimed Vhagar and lost an eye in the process. Aegon, who still had the audacity to cast those lecherous glances at Vaelynn, as though he had any right to her.

Aemond’s eye darkened as he watched Aegon sip wine from his goblet, his lips curling into a lazy smirk as his gaze flickered yet again toward Vaelynn.

The possessiveness inside Aemond coiled tighter. He had trained with the sword, studied history and philosophy, and sacrificed his eye to gain his dragon.

But Vaelynn? He would not share her, not with anyone. Least of all with Aegon.

He stood straighter, squaring his shoulders as his gaze flicked to his wife. Vaelynn, graceful and poised, was speaking with a noble woman oblivious to the attention she was drawing from Aegon.

But Aemond saw it. He saw everything. And as his eye shifted back to Aegon, a small, dangerous smile curled on his lips.

The idea came to Aemond like a sudden spark of wildfire in his mind—filthy, depraved, but burning with a savage clarity that made his heart race.

He stood, still as stone, the sounds of the bustling court fading into the background as his thoughts darkened. The more he watched Aegon’s gaze track Vaelynn’s every movement, the more he fed that flame.

Aegon, who had always believed everything was his. Aegon, who likely thought that, with a few charming words and a lecherous smile, he could steal Vaelynn's affection. Aegon, who needed to be reminded—no, taught—a lesson. She belongs to me.

The thought festered inside him, twisting his possessiveness into something more potent, more vicious.

Aemond wanted Aegon to know exactly who Vaelynn belonged to, wanted him to feel the crushing weight of desire and envy as he watched her give herself to someone else—to Aemond. Her husband. Her lover. The one man who could claim her in ways Aegon could only dream of.

The wicked idea solidified; his mind drawn deeper into its shadows. He would make Aegon watch. It was brutal, vile, and the thrill of it surged through him like dragon fire.

He imagined it now, the moment clear as if it were unfolding before him—the two of them, Vaelynn and Aemond, wrapped in the heat of their bedchamber. He would touch her, undress her, claim her with a fervour that left no doubt of his dominion over her.

He would make sure Aegon could see it all—the soft, intimate whispers, the way Vaelynn would arch under his touch, the way she would moan his name as he fucked her. Not Aegon’s. Never Aegon’s.

Aemond’s lips twitched into a dark smile as he imagined the shock, the rage, the helpless hunger on Aegon’s face, forced to bear witness to what he could never have. He would see Vaelynn’s devotion, her loyalty, her desire—all directed at Aemond.

Aegon’s lustful glances, his smug arrogance, would be met with the bitter truth: Vaelynn was Aemond’s wife, bound to him by the law of gods and men, by their bodies entwined in the deepest of intimacies.

Aegon would learn, in the cruellest way, that some things—the most precious things—were beyond his reach.

The thought of it fuelled Aemond’s jealousy and his hunger, both fierce and untameable. Aegon would watch and suffer.

He would see with his own eyes the very thing he coveted most, knowing he could never touch it, never have it, never know the closeness that Aemond shared with her.

Aemond’s pulse quickened. He could already imagine how Vaelynn would react. She was no fool; she understood the tension between the brothers, though she had always carried herself with grace, with a quiet loyalty that was never in question.

And while Aemond had never spoken his suspicions about Aegon’s lecherous stares to her, he knew she was aware of the way her uncle lingered a little too long in her presence.

And so, when the time came, he would make sure Vaelynn knew what he intended. He would guide her through it, speaking to her in that commanding, silken tone that always stirred a reaction from her. And Aegon? Aegon would be forced to sit and watch, powerless, as Aemond claimed what was his.

The very thought was intoxicating. Aegon had always been handed the world without lifting a finger, always had what Aemond had worked so hard to achieve. But not this. Not Vaelynn.

Aemond would ensure that this one thing—his wife, his love, his life—would never be his brother’s, not in any way.

And Aegon would suffer for it.

Aemond moved across the hall with a quiet, purposeful grace, his singular violet eye locked onto Vaelynn. She was standing by the hearth, still speaking softly with one of the noblewomen.

The sight of her, regal and poised in her red and black gown, her long, platinum hair cascading down her back, made his chest tighten. She was so beautiful it hurt, and the more he watched, the more his need for her grew, sharp and insistent.

He reached her side, slipping in behind her with a smoothness that belied the dark thoughts racing through his mind.

His hand, warm and possessive, slid up her arm in a slow, deliberate motion, causing her to shiver beneath his touch. Her skin, soft like silk, prickled with goosebumps as his fingers caressed her, and he could hear her breath catch in her throat.

Bending forward, Aemond let his lips brush the delicate shell of her ear, his voice low, barely a whisper. “You look so beautiful tonight, my love,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “I cannot wait until we can make our excuses and leave this place. I want you. Desperately.”

His words were laced with hunger, with a barely contained desire that made her cheeks flush, her posture shift as she pressed ever so slightly back into him.

He saw the way her lips parted, her breath quickening at the feel of his hand against her, and it thrilled him. She was his. Every part of her.

Aemond’s lips grazed her cheek, a soft kiss that sent a shiver down her spine, and he delighted in her reaction—the way her body responded to him without hesitation, the quiet whisper of his name that left her lips, breathless and needy.

“Aemond-” she whispered, her voice low enough that only he could hear it.

They had been married for six moons now, and though their marriage had started with tentative touches and gentle care—her innocence as a maiden requiring patience—it had not taken long for the fire between them to ignite.

Their nights together had grown wild, untamed, as they allowed themselves to give in to the passion that simmered beneath the surface.

Aemond had learned her body as well as he knew his own—how to make her tremble, how to draw moans from her lips as he devoured her sweet cunny, or how to leave her breathless and begging for him as he sheathed his cock inside her and fucked her into their mattress.

And he never tired of her. His appetite for Vaelynn was insatiable, ravenous.

No matter the time of day, he found himself craving her, stealing moments when they could slip away, taking her in their bed or wherever else they found themselves.

It wasn’t unusual for him to claim her multiple times in a single night, each time more intense than the last. And she gave herself to him completely, their bodies entwined in a way that left no doubt of their mutual desire.

He pressed another kiss to her cheek, slower this time, savouring the way her body softened under his touch. But as he kissed her, his eye drifted across the room, locking onto Aegon.

His brother stood near the dais, a goblet in hand, his lips curled into a faint sneer as his gaze flicked toward them. Aegon’s face betrayed his jealousy, the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darkened with frustration.

Aemond smirked.

Without breaking eye contact with Aegon, he slid his hand to Vaelynn’s chin, tilting her head ever so slightly toward him. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss.

It was tender at first, but there was an underlying heat, a possessiveness that seeped into every movement. He kissed her with intention, with purpose, making sure Aegon could see every moment of it.

When he finally pulled away, Vaelynn’s eyes fluttered open, her cheeks flushed from the kiss, her breath uneven. Aemond’s smirk widened as he looked back at Aegon, whose face had twisted into a seething mask of jealousy.

Let him watch, Aemond thought. Let him burn with desire for what he will never have.

Vaelynn was his, and he would make sure Aegon knew it.

Aemond's grip tightened on Vaelynn’s waist as he whispered against her lips.

“Soon, my love-soon.”

Later that night, after Vaelynn had bid her goodnight to her mother Rhaenyra and her father Daemon, Aemond took her hand with a sense of urgency that made her heart race.

His grip was firm, and the fire in his eye was unmistakable as he led her through the quiet, winding halls of the Red Keep, back to their chambers.

The night air was cool, but the heat between them was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface.

When they reached the door to their chambers, Aemond paused. He turned to her, his gaze intense, filled with desire.

Before she could speak, he pressed her against the stone wall, his hands moving over her body with a hunger that made her gasp. His lips captured hers in a kiss so passionate it left her breathless, the force of it consuming them both.

She felt his hands roam her curves, caressing her waist, her hips, the press of his body hard and unrelenting against hers.

Aemond’s arousal surged through him, a fierce, insatiable need that had built throughout the evening. Gods, this woman was something else entirely.

Never had Aemond felt so excited. Vaelynn wasn’t just his wife—she was his equal, his match in every way, and the very thought of her, of what they shared, sent waves of desire crashing through him.

When he finally pulled away, his breath ragged, he rested his forehead against hers. They stood there, panting in the dim corridor, the space between them crackling with unspoken intensity.

“I have a plan,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His fingers brushed her cheek, tender despite the raw desire coursing through him. “I want Aegon to watch.”

Vaelynn’s breath caught, her body still humming from the kiss. She looked up at him, confused at first, but she didn’t speak. Aemond continued, his tone low and dark, as he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb.

“I want to show him that you belong to me, that you’re mine and mine alone. He thinks he can stare at you, desire you, but he will never have you. I want him to see it, Vaelynn,” he whispered, the possessiveness in his words unmistakable. “I want him to watch as I take you to bed, to see what he can never have. He needs to know.”

As he spoke, Vaelynn remained silent, her eyes wide but unreadable. For a brief moment, fear flickered inside Aemond’s chest.

Had he gone too far? Had his twisted desire to show his dominance over Aegon horrified her? He was prepared for her to push him away, for her to recoil at his suggestion, to tell him that this need, this dark urge, was too much.

But then, she surprised him.

Vaelynn surged forward, her lips crashing into his with a ferocity that caught him off guard. The kiss was wild, primal, filled with a heat that burned hotter than any flame.

She kissed him as if she could devour him, her hands pulling him closer, her body pressing against his with an intensity that left him breathless.

When she finally pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy, her eyes locked onto his, gleaming with the same fierce hunger he felt.

“I understand,” she whispered, her voice low, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “I understand why you need this, Aemond. And I want it too.” Her words sent a flare of arousal through his body, her breath hot against his skin. “I want to show him that I belong to you. I want him to see what he can never have.”

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest. They truly were a match made in heaven, each feeding off the other’s desire, each willing to push the boundaries to claim what was theirs.

His possessiveness was met with her fiery loyalty, and he had never felt so connected to anyone in his life. She understood him—his demand to be in control, his hunger for dominance, his need to be loved—and she shared it.

Vaelynn’s lips curved into a smirk, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But how, Aemond? How do you plan to get Aegon to our chambers?”

Aemond’s own smirk deepened as he stepped back, his hand reaching for the door.

Vaelynn’s brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped into their chambers, the door creaking open.

The room was dimly lit by the flickering glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the floor. Her breath hitched when her eyes fell on the chair facing their bed.

Aegon sat bound to it, his arms tied to the wooden frame with thick rope, his face twisted in a mix of anger and frustration. His mouth opened in a snarl as he saw them, his eyes wild with disbelief.

“Let me go, Aemond!” Aegon barked, his voice filled with rage as he struggled against the restraints. “This is madness!”

But Aemond only smiled, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him with a heavy click of the lock.

“No, brother,” he said, his voice calm and dark as he moved closer to Vaelynn, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

Vaelynn’s eyes met Aegon’s, and she could see the mix of desire and fury in his gaze.

But all she felt was excitement, her body pulsing with the same hunger Aemond had stirred in her earlier.

She looked back at her husband, her heart pounding, and whispered, “Show him.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile as he turned her toward the bed. "With pleasure."

Aemond’s grip tightened around Vaelynn’s waist as he guided her toward the bed, positioning her directly in front of Aegon.

The soft flicker of candlelight cast shadows along her figure, making her pale skin glow in the dim room. Aemond’s eye never left his brother, his gaze sharp and filled with cruel satisfaction as he reached for the delicate laces of Vaelynn’s gown, his fingers working methodically to undo each knot.

Aegon, bound to the chair, turned his gaze to the floor, his jaw clenched, refusing to look. The tension in the room was thick, a palpable mixture of desire, jealousy, and anger.

Aemond noticed his brother’s reluctance and snarled, his voice cold and commanding.

“You’ve had no problem gazing upon my wife before,” Aemond said, his tone laced with venom as his fingers slipped the final lace free, the gown hanging loosely from Vaelynn’s shoulders. “So, you will watch now.”

Aegon hesitated, his body still for a moment, the weight of Aemond’s words sinking in. Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes lifted, dark and stormy, settling on Vaelynn.

Aemond smirked in satisfaction, feeling the power of his control over his older brother. With a gentle tug, the silken material of Vaelynn’s gown slid off her shoulders, falling in a soft pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a sheer shift that clung to the curves of her body.

Aegon bit his lip, hard, as his eyes betrayed him, taking in the sight of her. The translucent fabric left little to the imagination—the curve of her breasts, the soft swell of her hips, the slender lines of her waist.

She was breathtaking, every inch of her a testament to the beauty of their Valyrian blood. Aegon’s chest rose and fell, his breathing uneven as he fought to control the surge of arousal that rushed through him.

A barely audible groan slipped past his lips as he stared at her, helpless to look away.

Aemond’s lips curled into a smile as he stood behind Vaelynn, his hands sliding up her sides, possessive and deliberate. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice soft, but loud enough for Aegon to hear every word.

“Isn’t she beautiful, brother?”

Aegon remained silent, his jaw clenched, struggling to maintain some semblance of control as he watched Vaelynn’s bare form through the thin shift. His eyes flickered, a brief spark of rebellion in them, but Aemond wasn’t having it. His patience wore thin, his fingers gripping Vaelynn’s waist a little tighter as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“I asked you a question,” Aemond growled, his eye blazing with anger as he met Aegon’s defiant stare. “Isn’t. She. Beautiful?”

Aegon swallowed hard, his pride battling against the situation he found himself in. Finally, his voice, rough and barely more than a strained whisper, broke the silence.

“Yes,” he muttered, his eyes flicking briefly to Aemond before falling back to Vaelynn. “She’s beautiful.”

Aemond’s smile returned, smug and triumphant, as he ran his hands over Vaelynn’s body, slowly peeling the sheer shift away from her, leaving her completely bare.

The cool air kissed her skin, but it was Aemond’s touch that made her shiver. He stood back, admiring her for a moment, before his gaze flicked once again to Aegon.

“Good,” Aemond murmured, his voice dangerously calm. “I want you to remember this, brother.”

Without taking his eyes off Aegon, Aemond reached down and undid the belt that held his sword and dagger, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clang.

As the weapons hit the stone floor, Aemond’s hands moved to the rest of his clothes, removing them one by one with deliberate slowness, savouring the moment. His tunic fell to the floor first, followed by his trousers and small clothes, leaving him just as bare as Vaelynn.

His body, lean and strong, was a testament to the hours he spent training, every scar a reminder of his victories.

He stood tall, his presence commanding, as he turned to Vaelynn, his gaze softening when it landed on her.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, the tension between them electric. Aemond’s lips quirked into a small, possessive smile as he cupped her chin, tilting her face up toward him.

“This-” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, “-is what he will never have.”

And with that, Aemond kissed her, slow and deep, his hand tangling in her hair as he claimed her in front of his brother.

It was a kiss filled with all the passion, possession, and love that had been building since the moment they wed, a reminder of who she belonged to, now and forever.

Aemond circled Vaelynn slowly, his steps measured and deliberate, his eye tracing every curve of her bare body like a predator stalking its prey.

There was an intensity in the way he moved, his gaze devouring her from every angle as if he were committing every inch of her to memory. His breath was heavy with arousal,

Aemond’s gaze darkened with satisfaction, his eye flickering between Vaelynn and Aegon. The sight of his brother, bound and helpless, his face twisted in frustration and arousal, was everything Aemond had hoped for.

It fuelled the possessive fire burning within him, and he was eager to remind Aegon just how much power he held.

With a commanding presence, he stepped back from Vaelynn, his voice low and authoritative as he spoke.

"Kneel" he ordered, his words cutting through the thick air of the room.

Without hesitation, Vaelynn obeyed. She sank gracefully to her knees, her eyes never leaving Aemond's as she positioned herself in front of him, her posture submissive yet confident, entirely at his mercy.

The trust between them was palpable, a silent understanding that neither needed to voice.

Aegon whimpered from his chair, his restraint becoming more unbearable with each passing moment. He struggled against the ropes binding his arms, his face contorting with a mix of desperation and desire.

The sight of Vaelynn kneeling, so willing and obedient to Aemond’s command, only added to his frustration. A low groan escaped his lips, but he was powerless to look away, no matter how much he wanted to.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smug smirk, his eye gleaming with satisfaction as he watched his brother squirm.

Slowly, he reached down and caressed Vaelynn’s cheek, his touch gentle and reverent despite the raw desire simmering beneath the surface.

His thumb brushed over her soft skin, tracing the line of her jaw before he brought it to her plump lower lip, pressing against it with a possessive tenderness.

“Open your mouth,” he murmured, his tone commanding yet intimate, a whisper meant only for her.

Vaelynn, always eager to please him, parted her lips without hesitation, her breath warm against his thumb as she obeyed his command.

Aemond smirked and then spat into her mouth.

“Swallow” he ordered.

Vaelynn closed her mouth and smiled as she swallowed.

Aegon’s strained breaths filled the room, his frustration palpable as he watched, his eyes wide and dark with envy.

He bit his lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds of his helpless arousal, but it was clear that the sight of Vaelynn submitting so completely to Aemond was almost too much for him to bear.

Every twitch of his muscles, every laboured breath, was a testament to the agony of witnessing something he would never experience for himself.

Aemond’s smirk grew as he glanced back at Aegon, watching his brother's pitiful struggle. "You see, brother," Aemond purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction, "She belongs to me-and you will watch."

Aemond extended his hand to Vaelynn, his grip firm yet gentle as he helped her to stand. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt the pull of his intensity in every movement, in every glance.

He guided her to the bed, his eye never leaving her, a predator ensuring that his prize remained within reach.

Vaelynn sat gracefully on the edge of the bed, her bare form glowing in the candlelight, a vision of ethereal beauty.

She stole a glance at Aegon, bound and seething in the chair across the room, his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his gaze locked helplessly on her body.

Despite himself, Aegon couldn't tear his eyes away, watching her with a mixture of shame and longing. The sight only fuelled the dark satisfaction building inside Aemond.

Vaelynn's attention returned to Aemond, her hands slowly moving up his lean body, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles with delicate but purposeful intent.

She felt the tremble in his body as her nails scraped lightly across his skin, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound primal, raw with desire.

Her touch held him captive, and as her hands continued their slow, torturous path, she whispered to him, her voice soft but commanding. “Take off your eyepatch, I wish to gaze upon your beauty in its entirety”

Aemond hesitated for only a moment, his lips parting in a quiet whimper, the sound so rare for him, so vulnerable.

She knew what her words, her praise, did to him—how they disarmed him in ways no one else could.

His heart raced in his chest, and the possessiveness in him faltered for just a second, replaced by something deeper, more intimate.

Without a word, Aemond reached up and pulled the eyepatch from his face, the black leather slipping from his fingers to fall carelessly to the floor.

He stood before her, exposed in a way few had ever seen him, the sapphire in place of his left eye glinting coldly in the dim light. It was a mark of his strength, his pain, his triumph—a reminder of what he had lost and what he had gained in return.

Vaelynn gazed up at him, a soft smile curving her lips as her eyes traced over his face.

The sapphire, so stark and striking, only added to the beauty that was uniquely his. He stood before her, raw and powerful, and her heart swelled with affection and desire.

“Ñuha gevie zaldrīzes”  whispered Vaelynn, her voice laced with adoration (My beautiful dragon).

Aemond’s breath hitched at her words, his body responding to the warmth of her gaze and the tenderness in her voice. She saw all of him—the scars, the vulnerabilities—and still, she called him beautiful.

It was a power she wielded over him that no one else could ever claim. His hands trembled slightly as they came to rest on her shoulders, his thumb tracing soft circles on her skin as he gazed down at her with something that went beyond possession.

Vaelynn leaned forward and pressed a series of tender kisses to his bare stomach, her lips brushing against his pale skin.

Aemond closed his eye and let out a low groan as he felt her teeth grazing against him.

Aegon’s gaze was transfixed, no longer able to look away as Vaelynn leaned forward, her bare form moving with graceful, deliberate intent.

She pressed her soft lips to Aemond’s stomach, her touch feather-light, trailing kisses along the ridges of his taut muscles. Each kiss sent a ripple of pleasure through Aemond, his body responding to her affection with a barely contained hunger.

Aegon’s insides twisted in a storm of jealousy and desire, watching helplessly from his bound position as his younger brother stood in a state of near reverence before Vaelynn.

Aemond’s hands instinctively moved to her hair, his fingers weaving through the silver strands as he tilted his head back, his chest rising and falling with laboured breaths.

His voice, deep and rough with need, cut through the silence like a blade, the words slipping from his lips in their mother tongue, soft and intimate.

“kostilus, ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he rasped, his voice a low growl, urging her on with each kiss. (Please, my beautiful wife).

Aegon’s jaw clenched at the sound of Aemond’s voice, rasping and raw with devotion for Vaelynn. There was something different in it—a passion that Aegon had never heard before.

The language of Old Valyria, spoken between them with such intimacy, felt like a knife twisting in Aegon’s gut. It was as if he were not only excluded from the moment but from a bond that ran deeper than flesh—a connection forged in fire and blood, something he could never possess.

As Vaelynn continued her trail of kisses, Aemond’s grip on her hair tightened, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eye was half-lidded, his focus entirely on the woman before him.

Then Vaelynn moved back to lay on the bed, her bare body on display, as she reached out for Aemond and pulled him on the bed with her.

“Let me show Aegon how I take care of you” muttered Vaelynn as she placed kisses along Aemond’s sharp jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she looked up at Aegon before taking one of Aemond’s nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down gently.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does ñuha dārys like that?” asked Vaelynn as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My King).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

Aemond’s gaze moved to Aegon who was watching intently.

Aegon’s body tensed, his heart racing as the jealousy burned hotter, more potent with each passing moment. His gaze flicked between the two of them, torn between wanting to look away and the torturous need to watch.

When Vaelynn reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus ñuha jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please my love).

“Ao līs umbagon ñuha zaldrīzes” replied Vaelynn (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond stared down at his naughty wife, his mouth hanging open as Vaelynn’s warm, wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Vaelynn” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Vaelynn ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Vaelynn moved and engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth again, he squeezed his eye shut.

But Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he needed to watch as his wife sucked his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaelynn’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Vaelynn smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

Then she moved her other hand over his stones, caressing them before she slid one of her fingers towards his hole.

“F-Fuck” moaned Aemond as she gently massaged over the tight ring of muscle.

“Do you like that ñuha raqiarzy?” asked Vaelynn (My beloved).

“Y-Yes” exclaimed Aemond.

“What about this?” asked Vaelynn as she put a finger into her mouth and then returned it to his hole before she gently slid the tip of her finger in.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

“More?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please. M-More” groaned Aemond.

Vaelynn responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her finger slowly moved inside him.

“Another-p-put another inside me” begged Aemond his body rocking against her.

Vaelynn smiled and gently added another and Aemond began to whimper as she curled her fingers inside him.

Aegon’s fingers clawed at the wooden arms of the chair, his nails digging into the grain as if he could tear himself free by sheer force of will.

Watching them—watching Vaelynn touch Aemond so intimately and seeing the way his brother unravelled under her hands—was pure agony.

Aegon bit his lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste filling his mouth as he tried to stifle the sound that threatened to escape him.

“Shit-Vaelynn I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

Not hearing Aegon’s moaned gasp of “Fuck”

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

Aegon whimpered slightly at the sound of his brother’s climax, the sound of his voice—so vulnerable, so exposed—made something tighten in Aegon’s chest.

He had never seen Aemond like this, never imagined that his unyielding brother could be reduced to such a state, trembling and begging at the hands of a woman. And yet, here he was, utterly undone by her.

When Aemond recovered, he saw Vaelynn’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Vaelynn.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond as Y.N removed her fingers from him and wiped them on the sheets.

“Are you sure” asked Vaelynn

“Sit on my fucking face” ordered Aemond, ignoring his brother’s small whimper.

Vaelynn hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaelynn’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaelynn her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it ñuha dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaelynn.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

Aegon’s breath came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding furiously in his chest as the sight of Vaelynn rolling her hips as his brother devoured her, he was painfully aroused, his body aching with desire.

His mouth was dry, his throat tight, and despite his best efforts, tears of frustration welled in his eyes, blurring his vision.

He blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, but the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming.

“Ooooh A-Aemond” shrieked Vaelynn.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaelynn, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaelynn "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Vaelynn; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it baby, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Vaelynn was giving off a slew of whispered swear words, moans, and pleas.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat, then he grasped her thigh with his other hand and rolled her onto the bed, her back colliding with the soft mattress with a dull thud.

“Ohhh Aemond” whined Vaelynn at the sudden movement.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Finally, he felt Vaelynn’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaelynn’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she squirted all over his face.

Aegon’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening as realization dawned on him. Gods, no-did she really just squirt?

He had heard about it before, whispered in courtly gossip and salacious tales shared over wine, but never had he witnessed it himself. He had always imagined, fantasized, but no woman had ever done this for him.

The sight was overwhelming, mesmerizing in its erotic intensity. Aegon’s chest tightened, his arousal spiking to an almost painful level.

A low groan escaped his throat before he could stop it and he felt his cock throb as he spilled his seed.

The look of pure, tortured desire on Aegon’s face did not escape Aemond.

"Did you just spill in your breeches?" Aemond drawled, his voice low.

The words hit Aegon like a blow, and his entire body tensed, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red. He tried to avert his gaze, his lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out.

Aemond’s smirk deepened, his eye glittering with dark amusement as he watched his brother’s reaction.

"-I thought so." Aemond mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Aegon’s humiliation was written all over his face. He could feel the sticky warmth in his breeches, the evidence of his disgrace.

His stomach twisted with shame as he realized he had been so consumed by the sight of Vaelynn and Aemond that he had lost control of himself entirely.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he returned his attention to Vaelynn and pressed a series of kisses to her inner thighs, his teeth nipping at her skin.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Vaelynn.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth savouring the delicious taste of his wife.

Aemond moved up Vaelynn’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Vaelynn, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

“Issa jorrāelagon-Issa glaeson-ñuhon” growled Aemond as he seized his wife’s lips in a ferocious kiss, his hard cock throbbing against her thigh (My love-my life-mine).

Aemond wrapped a hand around his cock and slowly ran it over Vaelynn’s wet entrance, she began squirming impatiently against him as he continued to tease her.

“P-Please, I want you” exclaimed Vaelynn desperately.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond as he slid inside her with a singular thrust. His hips coming to a stop against hers.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Vaelynn.

"Patience, ñuha dōna" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up his wife’s neck (My sweet).

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaelynn.

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders. Her fingernails raking down his back.

“Fucking mark me harder-“ growled Aemond.

Vaelynn dug her nails into his skin and clawed at his back deep enough to draw blood.

Aegon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still reeling from the humiliation of Aemond’s mocking words, but he couldn’t stop the stirring deep inside him as Vaelynn and Aemond began again.

The fire between them was unmistakable, an unrestrained passion that filled the room with heat and tension so thick it was almost suffocating. He watched, helpless, as they moved together in a rhythm that was both primal and intimate, their bodies completely in sync.

 “Gods-" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly, revelling in the pain.

"Fuck me, Aemond. Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me”.

Aemond groaned loudly, knew exactly what his wife was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. She wanted faster, he was going much faster now.

His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips. Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Aemond lifted Vaelynn’s legs onto his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock into her soaking wet cunny.

His wife folded her arms above her head as she moved her hips, meeting Aemond thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaelynn.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

Not even waiting for her orgasm to fully subside, Aemond moved Vaelynn’s legs off his shoulders and quickly manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his large hands kneading the soft pale flesh, before he sunk his teeth into her.

“AEMOND” squealed Vaelynn.

“Hmmm”

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Vaelynn, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond stuck his finger in his mouth before he ran it over her puckered hole.

“Is this alight?” breathed Aemond.

“Y-Yes. Put it inside me. I can take it” whimpered Vaelynn.

“Tell me-Tell me if it’s too much” replied Aemond as he slowly pressed his finger inside her.

“Ooh Aemond, yes. Please. More” babbled Vaelynn as he moved his finger in and out before adding a second.

“Your doing so well-my darling” moaned Aemond as he moved his fingers inside his wife, his other hand slowly stroking his cock.

“I want you-please Aemond”

Aemond moved into position and sheathed himself inside Vaelynn once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

“FUCK-” groaned Aemond,

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelynn, his fingers in her arse and his cock deep in her cunt was so good.

Aemond began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts, his fingers moving in rhythm with his cock.

“Harder-more-please ñuha raqiarzy” wailed Vaelynn (My beloved).

“Issa vaogenka hāedar” growled Aemond, his fingers moving faster (My dirty girl).

“Valzȳrys-” whimpered Vaelynn (Husband).

“That’s it-take it-take all of me” muttered Aemond as he removed his fingers, and grabbed hold of Vaelynn’s hips and increased the pace of his thrusts.

Vaelynn took one of Aemonds hands that was on her hip and brought it to the back of her head.

Knowing what his wife wanted, Aemond placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face into the mattress, her back arching.

His cock reaching deep inside her as he moved with such ferocity it could rival an animal, his long silver hair unbound and sticking to his sweaty back.

Aemond then grasped both of Vaelynn’s arms and held them behind her back as he pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

Each movement was filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger that Aegon had never witnessed before.

Vaelynn’s cries of pleasure were muffled by the mattress, her face buried in the soft fabric.

Her body arched in response to Aemond’s relentless rhythm, each cry escaping her lips in a series of desperate moans that reverberated through the room.

Aemond’s grip on Vaelynn was fierce, his movements relentless. He drove into her with a force that seemed almost brutal, but Vaelynn took every thrust with an almost frantic eagerness.

Her body trembled under him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered completely to the intensity of their coupling.

“Fuck-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He released Vaelynn’s arms and then took hold of her long hair, twisting his fingers into the messy braid before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held his wife tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

One hand grasped her hip, his blunt fingers digging into her flesh. Whilst his other released her hair and moved to her throat, squeezing gently.

“Give it to me please” pleaded Vaelynn her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder, her arm reaching behind her to tangle in his hair as their lips connected in a messy, passionate kiss.

“Look at her, brother,” rasped Aemond, his voice laced with dark satisfaction and dominance. “See who she belongs to.”

The words were a taunt, a challenge, and Aegon’s heart pounded with a mixture of torment and desire as he heard them. His eyes were locked on Aemond, unable to look away from the intense display of ownership and passion.

Aegon’s moans escaped his lips before he could stifle them, a sound of frustrated longing and tortured arousal. His body ached with the need for release as he watched the scene unfold, every movement of Aemond and Vaelynn driving him further into madness.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside Vaelynn.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from his wife’s wet heat and laid across the bed.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Vaelynn breathlessly.

 “Ride me-” replied Aemond as he pulled her on top of him. His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

 “Ooooh” gasped Vaelynn as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on her hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelynn dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“See how well she takes me, brother,” Aemond rasped, his voice dripping with satisfaction and dominance. “She feels divine, wrapped around me, her body made to fit perfectly.”

His words were a taunt, a declaration of his complete claim over Vaelynn.

Aemond’s gaze never wavered from Aegon, the intensity of his stare a clear challenge. “I’m going to get her with child,” he said, his voice filled with a dark promise. “You’ll see her all round and full of me, carrying the future King-my heir, my legacy upon the Iron Throne”

The declaration was meant to wound, to make Aegon feel the full weight of his helplessness. But it was Vaelynn’s response that drove Aegon to the edge of sanity.

Her voice, desperate and breathless, cut through the room. “Yes-yes. I’ll give you a son-please put a babe in me” she pleaded, her words sending a shiver down Aegon’s spine.

Aegon’s breathing became ragged, his body straining against the ropes that bound him, his face flushed with a combination of desire and frustration.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelynn as he suddenly sat up, moving his hand to her breast again and taking her nipple into his mouth, his teeth biting down on the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelynn her vision going white as she came around his cock.

 Her husband pulled her closer and then rolled her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he pounded into her with a series of deep penetrating thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping his body against hers as he chased his own end.

Aemond’s grip on Vaelynn tightened as he neared his own climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more forceful.

The noises he made were almost otherworldly, a mix of guttural growls and breathless moans.

“I love you-I love you-I love you” groaned Aemond as he exploded.

The sight of Aemond’s utter surrender, the way he tensed and then finally collapsed onto Vaelynn, left Aegon unable to control himself any longer.

His own release came suddenly, a hot, throbbing wave that he could do nothing to stop. He spilled in his breeches once more, the sharp pleasure of his climax mixing with his lingering frustration and shame.

The noise of Aemond’s climax was a final, excruciatingly beautiful sound that Aegon could barely tolerate.

His brother’s ragged breathing, the way he clung to Vaelynn, the sheer force of his release—it all combined into a potent reminder of his own helplessness.

Aemond’s body tensed against Vaelynn’s, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. Then, as his pleasure subsided, he collapsed onto her, his chest heaving as he relaxed against her.

Vaelynn’s body shifted slightly beneath him, her own breath coming in soft, satisfied sighs as she remained still, embracing the weight of her husband.

She looked up at Aemond with a tender, loving gaze, her hands caressing his back as he rested against her, his breathing gradually slowing.

Aegon watched, his body trembling and his mind reeling, as Aemond leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelynn’s lips.

The tenderness of the moment was a stark contrast to the primal intensity that had preceded it. Aemond slowly withdrew from her, the sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light as he moved gracefully off the bed.

His softened cock shining with the combination of Vaelynn's slick and his spend.

Aemond bent down to retrieve his dagger from where it lay on the floor. The metal glinted in the dim light as he unsheathed it.

His gaze, sharp and knowing, flicked toward Aegon, who was still bound to the chair. Aegon’s face was flushed, tears streaking down his cheeks, his breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

The sight was one of raw humiliation, and Aemond’s smirk widened with a mixture of satisfaction and dominance.

With deliberate slowness, Aemond approached his brother. The blade in his hand catching the light as it moved.

He leaned in close, the tip of the dagger brushing against Aegon’s wet crotch.

Aemond’s voice was a low growl, laced with a dangerous edge. “If I ever catch you looking at my wife again, I’ll cut you from cock to throat” he said, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. “Do you understand?”

Aegon nodded quickly, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. The sight of the dagger’s point so close to him, coupled with Aemond’s menacing promise, left him feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Good,” Aemond said, his smirk growing colder. “Now get the fuck out.”

With shaking limbs, Aegon stood up, his movements unsteady as he hurried toward the door, slamming it shut behind him with a force that echoed through the corridor.

Aemond dropped the dagger onto the floor with a casual flick of his wrist. The metal clattered loudly, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. He turned back to the bed, his expression softening as he returned to Vaelynn.

He climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Her body fit perfectly against his, and she sighed contentedly, her voice a soft whisper as she said his name.

“Rest now, my love,” Aemond murmured into her hair, his tone tender and protective.

As Aemond lay wrapped around Vaelynn, his heart still thrumming with the aftermath of their passion, a sense of deep, primal satisfaction settled over him.

The confrontation with Aegon had been brutal, but it was necessary.

The lesson he had imparted to his brother had been harsh, but it was a declaration of his dominance, a claim he needed to establish.

Aemond’s gaze, now soft and contemplative, drifted over to where Aegon had previously been bound. The sight of his brother’s humiliation, the way Aegon had been forced to witness something so deeply personal and intimate, filled Aemond with a grim sense of triumph.

Vaelynn belonged to him, and he had made it unmistakably clear that no other man would ever be allowed to infringe upon that bond.

Aemond’s mind replayed through the events that has transpired—Each moment was a reaffirmation of his claim, a way to mark his territory and ensure that his position was unassailable. The lesson had been as much about asserting his dominance as it had been about protecting what was rightfully his.

He looked down at Vaelynn, her face peaceful as she nestled against him, her breaths slow and steady.

She was his wife, his partner, and the thought of anyone else daring to come between them was unthinkable.

The possessiveness that surged through him was a deep, almost primal need to ensure that she was safe, cherished, and unequivocally his.

Aemond’s lips curved into a satisfied smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelynn’s forehead. The warmth of her body against his, the sense of completeness he felt in her presence, reinforced his conviction.

The message to Aegon had been clear, and Aemond took a dark pleasure in knowing that his brother had been forced to witness the depth of his commitment and possessiveness.

In the quiet aftermath, Aemond allowed himself a moment of triumph. He had secured his place, solidified his claim, and made it painfully clear that Vaelynn was his and his alone.

The lesson had been harsh, but it was necessary to protect what he valued most.

As he held Vaelynn close, the sense of satisfaction filled him, a reminder of the lengths he would go to ensure that no one could ever challenge his claim.

Perhaps her bastard Strong brother Jacaerys needed teaching the exact same lesson, as his gaze would often linger upon Vaelynn far to long for Aemond's liking and it made his blood boil.

Yes-he would teach him who she belonged too and he would enjoy doing it, for she was his and his alone.

No one would take her from him.

NO ONE.

A.N - Is Aemond bat shit crazy? Let me know your thoughts......