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barbieaemond · 3 months

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The King of Qarth II

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Qartheen f!reader (use of third perspective)

PART 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Warnings: mentions of child sexual abuse, mentions of child bride, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, grinding, handjob, knife kink if you squint, self indulgent use of sorcery

Word count: 11k

Author's note: Aemond and the Salt Queen gets to know each other and do some good ol' bonding on shared trauma(s).

English is not my first language.

Taglist: @zae5 @arcielee @multyfangirl @zaldritzosrose @succnfuccubus @kckt88 @venmondiese @mariahossain @miraclealignertlsp369 @ilikechocolatemilkh @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs @alphard-hydraes-blog @gemini-mama @freyaniobe @toodlesxcuddles @youngestxhearts @helen06dreamer

“Don’t run from me, kori” he screamed as she ran into the night “Please! Come here!”

He tried to chase her but her feet were faster, barely touching the ground as the nine-year-old girl ran away from the Palace of Dust.

She felt she could run forever, that she could not stop, not until she had forgotten what she had seen. What were those invocations? Why was that woman naked and screaming? Why was her father slaughtering animals on a stone altar and drinking their blood?

“Knowledge comes with a great cost.” was all Fydor repeated when the jarring rumors about what was being done in the House of the Undying reached her young ears and her mother, when the Shadow of the Evening had already stained her father's lips and fingernails blue for good.

“What does it mean, Father? What knowledge?”

“Any kind of knowledge, kori. Everything that was, that is. Everything that could be.”

But she did not want to know. Knowing had cost her her mother. She just wanted to run, but the black-barked trees with blue leaves seemed to envelop her like shadows in flesh, a labyrinth changing its thousand deceiving paths with every step she took.

For a moment she turned, her father was running after her but he was far. Until he wasn't.

She went crashing into him as the other Fydor continued to run behind her. He had done this before, all the Warlocks of Qarth did, appearing in several places at once.

White as a sheet, she watched her father lower himself toward her in that strange embroidered tunic like one who performs a ritual. Even in the darkness of that labyrinthine wood, the blue stood out on his lips and in the sclerae of his eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid...but why? Why did you come here?”

“I heard the screams.” the little girl said with her lower lip trembling “When is Mother coming back?”

“She won’t, kori. It’s only you and me now.”

It was the first and only time she set foot in the Palace of Dust. Visits to her father were rare, although he longed to see her. Sometimes she could swear she could hear him talking in her head, telling her that the shadows protected her, that he protected her through them. Other times she would give in and invite him to the Palace of Salt, almost glad to see him but not quite.

There were always two opposite grooves in her lips when she looked at him. He was the man who avenged her and lost his tongue for it; he was the man who drove her mother to flee, abandoning their daughter.

She felt like that right now as she walked away, as she ran away from him, just like when she was nine. She could hear him echoing in her eardrums, as she left the courtyard with Prince Aemond, with the voice of the past, as if he had regrown his tongue.

“What did he say?”

“Trees wail…leaves are bleeding…” she hears, not the Prince speaking.

Aemond pulls her arm and feels her tensing at his touch, blinking at him as if she wasn’t there up until now. “What?”

“Your father. What did he say before we left?”

"Nothing of your concern.” She says lightly and resumes her walk. He stands still for a moment, sure, as he is sure of the noble blood in his veins, that whatever the warlock said through his hands, did concern him.

Unfortunately, he’s forced to set that thought aside as they leave the Palace; Aemond halts his stride, narrowing his eye at the strange wheelhouse waiting before him. A wheelhouse without wheels, and not even a carriage; more like a bed waiting to be moved, with veils and curtains on each of the four sides. A palanquin, he recalls the word from some book he read. This is how aristocracy moved in the East.

He turns his head as air shifts behind him, and a moment later he’s almost growling at one of the Sorrowful Men, bold enough to lay hands on him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The Salt Queen rolls her eyes and walks to him. “Leave it. I’ll deal with the Prince. He’s already accustomed to having my hands on him, am I right?” she says with a tight, luscious smile, and oddly enough, but perhaps not so much, he doesn’t flinch as she starts to search his blue silks for any weapon.

Her hand slips beneath the soft fabric, gliding on his bare skin, chest and ribs, and she stares at him deliberately, just like him. “Perhaps your Highness just couldn’t wait to get her hands on me again.” he retorts with the ghost of an obnoxious grin.

She says nothing, staring at him as she searches his waist and then through the blue folds underneath. “Ah.” she tuts at one point, slowly drawing his faithful dagger. “And here I thought you were just pleased to see me. You won’t need this.” she says, keeping the blade. “Unlike you, I don’t bite. Unless asked of course.”

He hears the stretch on the word asked and nods slowly, plastering a fake, chastened frown. “I see. My deepest apologies. I didn’t think I had to ask since you have been throwing yourself at me at every corner. Speaking of which, your husband seemed quite proud of your performance earlier at breakfast. Will you be rewarded for your noble services?”

She only blinks at his vitriolic remark, but there is not a trace of outrage on her face. “Someone might say it is not wise to insult someone, especially a woman, when she is armed.”

“Why, do you know how to use that?” he asks, lowering his gaze and tilting his chin to point at the blade.

“No, but how difficult could it be considering how little it takes me to get you to let your guard down? Just like any man, I might add.”

He has no time to bite back, annoyingly moving his jaw at being deemed an ordinary man who crumples at a woman’s touch, while she turns her back and moves the curtains aside to enter the palanquin.

Aemond follows and finds himself cursing internally as he tries to adjust inside that odd, restricted transport. He wouldn’t even call it that. It’s nothing but a mattress with soft cushions on it.

Were Qartheens accustomed to doing everything lying on those damn cushions?

He might just sit, but he is too tall, and the canopy of the litter is too low, greeting his head with a slight bump. The Queen stifles a smile, already settled on the cushions with her legs tucked under her, and she watches him sigh deeply, resigning himself with clear annoyance to lie down on the cushions, holding onto one elbow.

Aemond tries to look at ease, not bothered by the woman and how much she's close to him, as close as if they were to confide a secret to each other, and just as he thinks he has settled down, the Sorrowful Men are lifting the litter, and he is jolted forward, slightly on top of her.

She lifts her arm to hold him by the shoulder, and in that split second, Aemond ties his hand around her arm to keep his weight off her. She tenses, just as before, just as she did the night before in his room. To her misfortune, she is now the one who suffers from too much proximity, or rather, a total lack of space. She feels the long single braid dangling on her, tickling her chest. She can see the specks of blue in his iris, the small cleft on the tip of his nose, the way that vicious mouth flaunts a perfect shape.

If only she could actually read minds, she would know that that last thought mirrors in his head.

He shouldn't care, he shouldn't even linger on that thought. This woman has done nothing but trample on his pride, has done nothing but mocking and taunting, and she seems quite adamant on keeping doing so. But perhaps it's because her mouth is close now, and for once silent, slightly open; an offering hiding a thousand more. And he had not taken it. In the throes of rage and pleasure, he had not kissed her. And he wishes. He wishes to know. Would she taste sweet? Tart?

Would she taste like salt?

The thought slips to the back of his mind as she clears her throat and straightens up, forcing him to distance himself, although they are still uncomfortably close. With one hand she knocks twice against the canopy, and the Sorrowful Men start walking.

Aemond leans better on his elbow to curb the swaying of the litter, and sighs glancing at the woman beside him. “Never heard of horses in this part of the world?”

“Horses barely survive in the desert, ask any Dothraki. Besides, what you Westerners do with those poor beasts is barbaric.”

His eyebrow is raising, ready to rebut, but as he opens his mouth, she offers him a small plate full of dates and dried figs. He moves his hand to dismiss it, causing her to frown. “Do you ever eat?” she takes one fig between her fingers and bites. “You should try one. Perhaps it’d make you less…bitter all the time.”

He glares at her but in doing so, he stumbles upon her mouth and the saccharine juice pasting her lips. She reads this as if he is reconsidering, so she stretches the half-bitten fig, and given their closeness, it takes her little to bring it to his mouth.

Aemond tilts his head back to decline and sighs. "Do you always think about eating here?"

"God no, we have much more pleasant pastimes." she says, chewing the other half of the fruit. "Would you like to hear about some of them?"

Aemond is not looking at the woman, and yet he can feel her luscious smile like something vivid, prickling his skin. "I can imagine."

"Can you? It doesn't seem so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, perhaps our intimate encounter misleads me, but...you seem that kind of man who fucks his wife only on all fours, to feel in power and all those manly excuses."

"I am not." he hisses.

"Really?” She tilts her head curiously and looks at him closely. “Ever let her be on top? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded?"

He looks away at that, scoffing. "So, it's either eat or fuck."

Aegon would have thrived here, he thinks dimly.

"Fine. What should we talk about then?"

"Why do we have to?"

"The war? I, for instance, think it's only your father's fault. He wanted a son, right? And he had three. People unfit to take a decision should not be allowed to rule, if you ask me. On the other hand, though, what your mother did upon his death—"

"Keep my mother out of your mouth."

She hears the threat in the hissing way the words come out of his mouth, so she hushes, and turns her head toward the bustle of the city blurred by the veils and curtains of the litter. “Silence it is.”

And silently, he thanks the Gods for a moment of peace, free of this constant enquiring and teasing. That same silence though, only makes him think of Alicent. Is she still in chains? Is she wondering about him day and night or did she choose to banish him from her mind as he banished her?

Perhaps now that he is in a rather civil city, he could send word to her? Let her know he’s alive and that he was…what was he doing here?

But even if he did know, he could not trust any of these people.

“What is exactly your husband’s plan now?”

“What do you think? You promised them dragon eggs. They won’t let you go until they have their little lizards to play with.”

Aemond scoffs, glancing distractedly beyond the curtains “Do you think you can fool me? Speaking of them as if you are not into it as well.”

“I am not. We may have different customs, but even here women are pawns in the hands of men. Men choose what we shall do, who we shall marry…how they shall fuck us.” He drags his eye back on her at this, watching her as she adds “But I have no interest in keeping you here, or having a creature spitting fire as a pet. I prefer cats, if you must know, or snakes.”

“I see. So, you just follow his orders? He tells you to fuck whoever is housed under your roof, and you obey?”

“I fuck who I wish to. And if you don’t want to taste how sharp your dagger is, you might want to stop addressing me as a whore.”

“Who you wish?”

“Yes.” She catches a glimpse of his eyebrow raising in a rather boastful way and looks away, huffing. “Quit it, dragon prince. You might be handsome, but it wasn’t that special.”

“Why? It was hard to tell in the midst of all that begging.”

“Because I don’t like to feel like I’m ten again.”

The smug expression on Aemond's face disappears as quickly as the Salt Queen speaks those words, wrinkling his forehead as he grasps their meaning. But she looks at him with a passive face, and she speaks of this person, herself, and yet another, with the distant tone with which one speaks of the dead.

“I was raped when I was ten. Bent over my small table while I was painting seashells.”

Aemond looks genuinely startled, and why wouldn’t he? He is not sure he can trust this woman’s word, but something in the back of his mind, namely the way she was tensing like steel as he took her from behind, tells him she’s speaking the truth. After all, it seems her tongue is made of nothing else.

“Don’t look at me like that.” she says “I’m not telling you to make you say you’re sorry. Everyone knows. There is no such thing as secrets here. It helps the trades, makes for more honest negotiations.”

The litter stalls as Aemond barely registers they must have reached the walls, but he doesn’t move, staring at the woman, cautiously, enquiringly, as something unfolding right before him.

“And what are we trading?”

She was starting to move to get out of the palanquin, but she halts at his question, raking his half-lying figure with her eyes, the long slender hands laced together on his abdomen, the little smooth portion of chest peeking from the blue silks. “It depends on what you are offering…”

They share a long earnest look, unwavering on both parts, until the curtains are moved. “Your Highness, we have reached the walls.”

The woman blinks and takes a light breath. “Let’s go, shall we? Before your lizard starts chewing the walls.”

She barely moves and he’s seizing her wrist, drawing her eyes back on him instantly. The Queen witnesses something new curling his features, cracking his mouth open and then shutting it back—a reluctance, almost a regret that does not settle well on that ever-so-strict face; it seems unwanted, rejected, and yet it keeps coming back, twitching his mouth twice. “Had I known…I would’ve behaved differently.” He says staring down, whereas she stares right down at him, at the grimace twisting his lips, as if tasting salt. “I know how it is…to feel—”

“Powerless?”

In more ways than one.

He doesn’t utter the words, but the way his eye pierces through her is nothing but a confession.

“You could have stopped me.”

“Yes, I could. That’s what troubles me.” She says in a hushed tone, and now she’s the one staring down, grimacing. “I didn’t want to.”

Being a dragonrider, one might think Aemond should be used to deal with strange creatures. And yet, his brow is furrowing steeply as soon as they’re out of the city walls. There are some men waiting for them, common men dressed in dark robes, acting as keepers for a four-legged animal that Aemond has never seen in his life. A camel.

The Salt Queen fakes a frown upon reading the confusion on his face and says “Surely you didn’t think we would walk in the desert.”

“Because it’s hot or because it goes against all the lying around you do here?”

She bursts into a short laugh, drawing his eye to her, and says “It seems you have found your humor. I’m glad. I like men who can make me laugh.”

It was not really his intention, rather a mere observation, but he says nothing, lingering for a moment on her lips curved up, before returning to look at the creature before him, slowly ruminating something as it stares at him with two dark, waning eyes.

“I don’t know how to ride this—thing.”

“Ah, it’s a bit tricky. You see,” she goes to stand right beside him, leaning against him so that he feels her bare shoulders against his arm, and as she gestures towards the camel, she says “You have to get on it and keep yourself balanced on the hump with one knee. Very dangerous, I must warn you. Most men die by merely trying.”

She turns to look at him with her lips cracking in amusement, but as she sees the earnest, not at all amused, face he’s wearing, she sighs deeply. “And it’s lost again.”

“It’s just a bit slower than a horse.” She explains taking a step away as one of the Sorrowful men hands her some blue fabric, like a scarf. Aemond sees her handing one to him and she speaks before he asks about it. “For your skin. To shield you from the sun if you don’t want to peel your face off because of burn blisters.”

He grabs the cloth, unfolding it between his hands as, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Queen wrap her own around her head, leaving only a crevice for her eyes. He tries to mimic her gestures, but his braid gets stuck, so she walks to him raising her hands, and without a word she helps him, wrapping his head and face in blue.

“Come. Since it’s your first time, you’ll ride with me.”

Then, she moves towards the camel, while the armed men will follow on foot, dragging the cart of dead pigs and goats. With silent relief on his part, Aemond finds out that it seems even easier than riding a horse. At first.

The camel kneels on the sand on his four legs, and Salt Queen straddles it, sitting in the saddle. She swings each leg on both sides of the creature, her silks gliding like water, effectively baring her skin from the ankles to her thighs; she makes room for him, turning her head to beckon him to sit behind her and, inevitably, she sees him staring down at her bare legs. “So, you found something else to stare at other than my breast. Good.”

Aemond looks up and then away, moving to get this over with. He sits on the saddle, behind the woman, their bodies barely touching, at first. As she grabs the reins, she slightly turns her head saying “Follow my lead.”

She pulls at the reins and since camels stand up with their back legs first, Aemond is jolted forward, colliding against the Salt Queen who promptly instructs him. “Lean back…”

He does so, and she does too, resting her shoulders against his chest. “And now forward.” She adds when the animal gets onto its front legs. Aemond lurches forward, and having no handhold, he grips her left side not to crash his body on her.

“Pigaí.” She says in Qartheen and, slowly, the camel starts walking. Aemond briefly looks behind, watching the Sorrowful Men move accordingly, four of them dragging a wooden cart full of carcasses, but soon he finds himself too occupied with keeping balance to spare a glance behind.

A camel’s walk is nothing like the gait of a horse. It’s odd, irregular, jerky; it keeps jolting him backward and then forward, each time forcing him to bump against her back, to hold onto her, sometimes her arm, sometimes her hip, her thigh even, like a toddler who's just learning to walk.

Hearing his short and clearly annoyed sighs, the Queen smiles behind the tajel, keeping her gaze fixed on the dunes at the horizon, and softly shakes her head. “Always so rigid…”

“What” he asks without even intoning the question, because the camel and this hiccup-like swinging is getting on his nerves, not to mention the heat, sticking the silks on him, or the woman's body which, for all the right reasons but rather inconvenient under the circumstances, is making his blood flow down too fast.

“You are too rigid.” She says, slightly raising her tone. “You have nothing to prove to this poor beast, or me.”

She takes his hand that he held like an iron clamp on her side and turns her head a little, enough to catch his eye. "Let yourself sway, don't fight it."

Keeping his eye on her, his grip lessens, just as all the stiffness in his body. She feels him sway, brushing naturally against her without tensing every time their bodies touched. And yet her throat stiffens as he keeps swinging against her, and she’s glad she’s giving her back and wearing a tajel, so he cannot see her lips parting as air hitches in her mouth.

The camel’s hooves avoid human and animal remains in what is nothing but a Garden of Bones; the sun is scorching, the air so humid, heavy, it feels like cotton when swallowing. But fortunately for them, she is not late to come into view amid those white dunes.

"By all the Gods..." The Queen cries out in disbelief, widening her eyes as she sees a huge black spot in the middle of the yellowish-white desert; a mountain, of flesh and fire.

The camel must sense her agitation, or perhaps he’s wise enough to know what he is up against. He starts to flail, to paw, and the Queen is forced to pull on the reins, unbalanced back and forth. Aemond holds her by the arms with his eye strained on Vhagar, but the quadruped seems to have no intention of staying there a minute longer.

He screeches to the point that both Aemond and the Queen are thrown from the saddle, landing on the sand, one on top of the other. The camel flees, despite one of the Sorrowful Men attempts to catch him.

That little cackle, however, awakens the dragon, or perhaps she simply sensed her rider. Vhagar raises her huge head from the cat-like crouched position she was in, her amber eyes wide as well as her giant wings. Aemond is barely in time to stand and help the woman do the same when the earth beneath them shakes as if in an earthquake.

The Queen of Salt whitens like a sheet as she sees that terrifying beast advancing from a distance, a distance that drastically runs out because each stride of the dragon covers miles.

She freezes on the spot, her mouth wide open, because the dragon keeps advancing, and for a moment she seriously thinks she is breathing the last breaths of her life.

Aemond shields her with his body, and Vhagar stops, opening her mouth wide and roaring so loudly that the queen has to cover her ears. Even Aemond scrunches his face under the scorching gust that sweeps over him, so scorching that the glimmer of flames ignites at the back of her jaws. She's not happy to see him. Or rather, she's not happy about being abandoned to starve in the desert, even for one day. Ageing makes even beasts more irritable.

“Lykirī, Vhagar!” the Prince shouts “Lykirī!”

But she does not listen, not immediately at least. She continues to roar, intent on voicing her disappointment. Then, finally, she closes her jaws. The Queen looks at her with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly, her hands laced firmly around Aemond's arms. Vhagar lowers her head toward him, still showing her fangs, and flares her nostrils, smelling something, someone, foreign.

“What is she doing?” the Queen asks in a whisper.

“Hush.”

She tilts her head back, looking at him from behind and still whispering, says “Need I remind you my father is a warlock? If your dragon eats me, I will come back to haunt you.”

He doesn’t bother to retort, even more so because Vhagar makes a sudden movement, turning her head sharply as her nostrils smell what she has been craving for too long. Aemond follows her gaze, barely having the time to register the Sorrowful Men on the right, at a good distance but not far enough for a starving dragon.

“Get away from there!” the Prince warns them “Move!”

As soon as that last word leaves his mouth, Vhagar moves with impressive speed, given her size and age, but hunger quickens her limbs. Her head sinks on the cart as the armed men scurry away without logic, raising a cloud of dust and sand as her fangs pierce wood, flesh and bone.

She perches on the sand to enjoy her much-needed meal, which disappears by the second under the gaze of Aemond and the Salt Queen, still pale as a sheet and stunned by what she's witnessing, flinching every time she hears jaws snapping and bones cracking.

“Where are you going?” she asks as Aemond tries to take one step.

He turns, glancing at her hand gripping his arm, and looks at her for a moment before raising his eyebrow “Scared, are we?”

She gives him a flat look as if he has just informed her that the sky is blue. “Self-awareness is not cowardice.”

Aemond moves, circling the beast, and the woman dims it wisely to never leave his side, keeping a constant eye on the beast, unaware she’s still gripping his arm as she moves. The Prince stops somewhere near Vhagar’s left wing and the Queen watches as he seems to inspect it closely. Out of curiosity, she does the same, spotting a large wound toward the right end, healed but not quite. Aemond places one hand on the scales but as soon as he does that, Vhagar turns her head sharply, blood coating her jaws and fangs, and growls, clearly still annoyed with him or maybe just unhappy to be bothered during her meal.

“She’s just like you, isn’t she?” the Queen remarks “Sour and petty.”

Aemond ignores her, taking a step back, momentarily resigning not to tend to his dragon, as long as she’s in that mood. “Perhaps you could stop gripping me so hard now.” he says at one point, feeling the Queen’s nails digging through the silk.

She looks lost for a moment, and then withdraws her hand, looking away. She finds though that all she can look at is Vhagar, her giant dimension blocks her view entirely.

“How did you manage to tame such a monster?” she asks at some point, eyes full of dread, and yet wonder.

“She is not a monster.”

“No, of course not. She’s as sweet as a kitten.”

She observes the beast, her green and bronze scales, battered in several spots and frowns. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and I rarely am, did not dragons take decades to grow? She seems very old and you...” pausing, her eyes scan him from head to toe “you don’t look older than twenty-five?”

Aemond keeps his gaze fixed on Vhagar as he answers, that empty egg made of nothing but stone lost somewhere in the back of his mind. "My egg didn’t hatch. I claimed her when I was ten.”

"Ten?” she asks, disbelief and awe running together on her tongue.

He turns his head and tilts his chin down, and then up, as only pride can do. "Ten.”

She looks at him, not able to hide a righteous gleam of admiration, but then she’s crinkling her forehead, in that peculiar way of hers.

"Was it worth it?” she asks, upon acknowledging that new piece.

"What?”

"The exchange. Was it fair? Your eye for a dragon.”

Do not mourn me, Mother. His mouth twitches as he remembers, almost relives it. It has been years and yet, he can almost feel the right side of his head numbed with too much pain, the stench of his own dead flesh. The needle going in and out but not actually stitching anything back together.

“How did it happen?” she asks, and her tone is different now. That constant veil of mocking in the way she phrases her questions is nowhere to be found.

“Do you want me to believe you don’t know yet?”

"I told you twice. I cannot control this…power, it comes and goes. I must admit though, it is coming quite often in the last few days…I wonder why…”

Aemond looks at her, sees her search on him a mystery to which he has no answers in the first place. He learned this from Alys.

Magic repels answers, it must live and thrive on mystery.

On chaos, you mean.

And what’s the difference? That’s what you really yearn for. Chaos.

He sighs to cast her out, and says “My nephew took it with a knife.”

"And you killed him. This is why they call you Kinslayer, is it not?”

She cannot see his expression behind the tajel, only his good eye, still, cold and unwavering, like a star, and beautiful in the most cruel way.

"We may have shared blood but he meant nothing to me. And he got what he deserved.” he said, trying a flat empty tone, but she hears the edges quivering, crumpling, like salt eroding rocks.

"And what about that boy? Did he get what he deserved?”

"What boy?”

"The ten year old you.” His eye seems to glow with new light at her words, like the sun catching the flashing steel of a blade, and even with the blue scarf hiding his face, she knows his teeth are grinding. "I was never one for revenge.” She concedes, turning her head to the desert. "It may be the sweetest morsel, but somehow it never leaves you sated.”

"It sounds like you have tasted it.”

"Yes.” She admits, turning to look at him. "But it’s stuck in my throat.”

Aemond doesn’t need to ask, because as she said, there are no secrets in Qarth.

"You must have wondered why my father cannot speak.” she tells him, looking away, dredging up from her mind, from her memories, traces of a child who is no more. “There’s an ancient tradition here, when a wedding takes place. It’s called the sacred exchange. The bride and the groom can ask each other for one favor, anything, and they cannot refuse.” She returns her gaze to him, and says “My husband asked for my father’s tongue as my sacred gift.”

“Was it him?”

"No, not him…the night before our wedding, Irryo, Xavos’ brother, came into my room to give me his wedding gift. The purest silk I’ve ever seen. He made me wear it, stripped me bare with his own hands…said he wanted to see how I looked...”

She doesn’t need to utter the words. Aemond sees a little girl, a child, painting seashells, unfinished, falling from the table in a clatter of tinkles and choked cries.

"The wedding took place in a hurry an hour later. I said my vows with my silks still stained with blood. They were scared of my father’s wrath, you see. But it came anyway. Irryo died during the wedding feast. His eyes burst into his skull.”

“Your father’s doing.”

“Perhaps." she shrugs "I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, as I don’t know what to make of it now. I didn’t ask him to avenge me. All I wanted was for him, anyone, to say they were sorry for what had been done to me.”

Did he not want the same?

Apart from punishment, and then revenge, did he not want just one word of kindness from his father? Some sort of regret from Lucerys?

She feels his eye on her, even if he’s not really looking at her, perhaps at some ghosts locked in his mind, so she glances at Vhagar, quite contented after her meals and currently resting on the sand. “We should go back to the Palace before it gets too hot out here. I will give orders to save more dead beasts for your dragon.”

The journey back to the walls is a silent one. It spreads, silence, like an oil stain as they climb back onto the litter; each of them has caught something of the other, something similar, different cracks etched with the same cruelty, and matching.

Their gazes match, as they remove the tajel from their heads, as she hands him some water. She looks around distractedly, but the curtains are closed and even if they weren’t, the sound of water rushing down his throat brings her eyes on him, and then closely, she watches his tongue flicking outside for a moment, she watches a drop of water running down his chin. And wishes to lick it off with her tongue.

Somehow, it’s like he can hear what she’s thinking, locking his eye on her. They don’t speak, it’s almost as if both of them are waiting for something.

"Your braid needs to be redone." She says at one point, and he turns, not looking at her face, not at first. She sees his eye trailing slowly over her until he speaks.

"Is that your offering?"

Closely, she rakes her eyes on his chiseled features, and she is not even aware she is imperceptibly leaning closer. A moth to a flame, they say. But she has always been the flame. And now, she finds she’s the one willing to bathe in the light, or burn.

“If you wish."

It comes out like a whisper, drawing his eye on her lips, unearthing that same desire from earlier, the thirst to know what she tastes like. "What If I wish for something more?"

“Such as?" she asks, raising one hand to touch his braid and undo it, smoothly, as if she had done this countless times before.

"Don't be shy now. Everything is a trade in Qarth. Even pleasure."

Swiftly, he clamps his hand around her wrist, stopping her, drawing a slight wince beneath her skin.

"Pleasure is not something to be traded.” He says, and it’s the flame now that is moving. “Only taken."

The short intake of air she breathes on his mouth is a seal. His lips meet hers abruptly, they part instantly and ravenously, like a starved man tasting a morsel, and then loosening to taste it, to taste her. Perhaps it’s desert, perhaps it’s herself, but she does taste like salt. She’s bitter on his tongue, in his nostrils; she muffles his ears until he hears only her sweet sighing in his mouth as he slips his tongue inside.

And he wants more of that, just as she wants more. He feels her unfolding beneath him as he towers over her, so differently from the previous night. She’s not tense. She’s loose like water, he feels her seeping in everywhere, around his neck and shoulders, in his mouth when her tongue darts in, in his blood when she softly rubs against him. His breathing becomes heavy, from lack of air, from hardening, and maybe he shouldn't, maybe this isn't really the right place. They could wait until they get back to the palace, but then she lies back on the pillows and reclines her head, offering her neck. Without thinking, he lowers himself down on her, in fact lying on her, and she instantly makes room for him by spreading her legs wide.

She gasps softly as he trails wet kisses on her neck, growing greedy as he travels down, to what he’s been secretly coveting since the first time he unapologetically landed his sight on.

Cupping her bare breast with his large hand, he holds it firmly, humming pleasurably as he takes the hard nipple into his mouth. Accordingly, she bucks her hips against him, feeling his hardening tease her center through that thin layer of silk. Between that and the swirling of his tongue, hot and wet around her nipple, she is panting, spreading her legs wide to cage his hips and push him against her, desperate for more friction.

Despite his ache for the same and more, he glances up, still torturing her nipple, hard and slick at this point, watching her as he grazes his teeth over that darker spot of skin, forcing a choked, loud whimper to escape her mouth.

“Careful, your Highness” he teases “lest you want to give your peasants a show.”

“What do you think these curtains are for?”

“You want me to fuck you here? Now?” he asks with a playful scorn in his voice, but she can hear his breath creaking, his tone lower and throatily.

She raises from the cushions, holding on one hand while the other slips between them, hovering on his groin, brushing feathery. “I believe you want to.” She breathes on his lips, parting as soon as he rocks his waist to catch her palm.

“We could wait to be in the Palace but…” she takes his hand and brings it between her legs, on that thin layer of silk, damp again his knuckles. “Would you be so cruel and leave me like this, for so long?”

He swallows something close to a growl upon feeling how wet she is for him, how her cheeks are barely flushed as she exhales heavily, her face scrunched lustfully for the little, shallow pleasure she finds from his fingertips.

Curtains or no curtains, Aemond is deaf and blind to anything else around him. With his fingers, he moves the fabric and twists his wrist, so that his palm is straight against her pulsing core. She sighs hoarsely as her wetness coats his hand, arching just as slightly, goading him to do more. She has been watching and coveting his fingers once too many times, the thought alone of having them inside her crumples her face in a pleading way, and she has no shame in voicing it. “Please, Aemond…”

Upon hearing his name, spoken in that exotic and alluring way, he bares his teeth and harshly slips not one, but two of his slender fingers inside, watching her tilt her head back, her mouth open and out of breath, but she’s looking at him and she’s quick to regain air, barely curving her lips up. “So you do know how to use your hands…”

“You never shut up, do you?”

“Well, make me.”

His cock twitches on its own at her words, and he kisses her, roughly, flexing his hand to start pumping his fingers in. She moans loudly on his tongue, lacing an arm around his neck, still holding herself onto the cushions with her other hand, angling her back so he can reach that special spot more easily.

“Oh God—yes---” she moans when he does, rocking her hips to meet his deft fingers in a sweet lewd sound that muffles any other coming from the fuss outside that litter. Her breath grows short and labored, mewling obscenely every time he curls his fingers, his gaze on her fixed and focused like on some holy mission.

He desperately wants to bury himself inside her, right there; he’s almost thankful for the much more loose clothes they wear here instead of the constricting breeches he was used to, even though he feels his flesh on fire, and he’s practically panting on her pleasure; his own is of no concern to him right now, not when she’s so close, not when he can watch a little more of her face distorting with wanton abandon, her neck lumped with sweat, the way her breast swings with her motions.

But she, on the other hand, seems eager to end this torture, and start another. The tensed muscle in her arm gives away, making her back fall on the cushions once more, but the other is still tied around his neck, so she drags him down with her and then she’s rummaging through the blue silks, eager to free his length, but he grips her wrist and holds it firmly above her head. “No…I have a score to settle with you.”

“What? You proved quite enough you know how to use your hands.” She says breathlessly, cracking half a smile “I swear on all the Gods, yours and mine, I won’t doubt you again.”

Aemond is just about to retort but suddenly the palanquin stops, and they are abruptly brought back to the reality just outside those curtains. They hear a male voice and he looks enquiringly at the Salt Queen who visibly rolls her eyes and says something in Qartheen which, given her tone, Aemond is sure is some kind of curse.

She fumbles with her thin gowns, covering her nudity while he takes some distance, returning to lean on one elbow with once more clear annoyance, this time much more justified. And once more, he’s thankful for the loose silks, able to hide his otherwise plain arousal.

The Queen sighs deeply, to keep herself together, to stop the ringing in her ears and the aching stir below her navel; then she opens the curtains and smiles warmly. “Syradhor! I thought I recognized your voice.”

The man in yellow silks, with several sapphires embroidered in the fabric and worn on his fingers, bows for a moment saying, “Your Highness.” He takes her hand that she promptly offers and lightly kisses her knuckles, trailing his eyes on her with two eyes blind with admiration. “Any man who finds himself in the presence of such beauty can count himself as the luckiest in the world. What a blessing for me to be granted such fortune once more.”

Aemond is staring at the man, unimpressed, doing all he can not to scoff at the love sonnet-like speech, and a rather dull one. “Prince Aemond. A pleasure to see you again.”

Aemond recalls the man as one of the Merchant Kings who greeted him at the walls two days prior, but his face is all he remembers. “Which one is this?” he deadpans to the Salt Queen, evidently not happy to have been interrupted. She hears the annoyance in his voice and stifles a smile saying “This is Syradhor, the Ore King.”

The Prince barely tilts his chin down to greet him and the man in yellow takes a step forward, addressing the Queen. “Your Highness, since you are here, I am gladly extending my invitation to you as well.”

“Extending?” she asks.

“I—Yes, I was expecting Prince Aemond today, to formally receive him in my Palace.”

“Were you?” he drawls.

The honeyed benevolence leaves the man's face like a summer storm, because that's the way he is, as eager to please as he is quick to anger. “What is meaning of this? Did Xavos not inform you?”

“Of course.” Of course not, is what she means to say. But before she can utter another word, Aemond speaks. “Well, I’m afraid we have to delay this formal reception.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Syradhor.” The Queen steps in “you must understand, the Prince is new to our customs. He’s not aware of our welcoming traditions. As it happens, that was precisely what the Prince and I were discussing before you interrupted us.”

“Were we?” he says lifting his eyebrow.

She flashes daggers at him and continues with a broad smile. “I told him not to delay his visit to your Palace, for if ever a foreigner refused to visit one of the Thirteen—" she looks directly at Aemond, informing him at that very moment. “It would be considered the highest of insults.”

Aemond looks at her, unblinking, before sighing deeply, and deciding to play along. “Yes, I do recall now. Her Highness was quite vocal on the matter.”

She keeps smiling, for reasons entirely different from what the Ore King might think, and then he raises one hand towards the crowded street. “Please. My Palace is just around the corner.”

Aemond comes out of the litter, being careful to let the silks fall over all the right places.

“I hope you have a good time, my Prince.”

He whirls his head watching the Salt Queen stay still on the cushions and the Ore King looks just as stunned. “Will you not delight my Palace with your presence?”

“I am afraid I can’t, Syrhador. I was just asking the Prince for advice on some urgent matters I desperately need to attend to.” She pointedly looks at Aemond with a ghosting smile and then she shrugs, lightheartedly. “I suppose I shall take those urgent matters into my own hands.”

Her words and what they mean, stir something within him, more annoyance at the mere thought of wasting time with this little man —his shoulder reaches just above Aemond’s ribs— when he could be fucking her senseless on that litter, on his bed, hers, he’s not picky at this point. And more giddiness, making his blood boil at mere thought of her chasing her pleasure with her own hands.

But then she’s shutting him out, shutting the curtains, and ordering her men to move.

The sky is of a delicious pink-red shade when he returns to the Palace of Salt.

Four hours, that was the torment he had to endure in the presence of Syradhor and his family. Four hours in which he barely opened his mouth, and when he did, all that came out were monosyllables uttered from time to time in a manner closer and closer to snarling.

The Ore King had embarked on a soliloquy about alum, a precious mineral useful as mordant for dyeing wool, embalming animals and human bodies, and making wood fireproof. It would’ve been interesting for a former scholar as Aemond was, but it was difficult to think straight amid the chattering, duck-like squawking of Syradhor’s daughters, and even more difficult when he had brought the cup of wine to his mouth and sensed her intimate sweet-tart smell stuck on his fingers, awakening all the wrong thoughts.

In the end, he was so sick of the whole affair that he had curtly refused to be escorted to the palace of Xavos on another litter, and the Ore King had sent four of his guards to walk with him, along the streets of Qarth.

His spirits when he crosses the threshold of the Palace of Salt are at an all-time low. If only he didn't have to face another litter trip lying on cushions after spending four hours sitting on those same fucking cushions, he'd go straight to Vhagar. He's always been a solitary creature, just like her, and all these talks and pleasantries, fake or true, were like pouring a barrel of water into a narrow vase. He was toppling over.

Surprisingly though, as soon as he sets foot in his chambers, his foul spirits seem to instantly improve as he finds his room lit with candles, and not at all empty. The Salt Queen is sitting comfortably in an armchair, with her legs dangling graciously over the left armrest; a little book is clutched in her hold.

“My Prince.” She greets him as he lingers on the door, lifting her gaze from her reading.

Aemond closes the door, never tearing his gaze off her. It betrays nothing, only the faint irritation for the four hours wasted, but not the way his lungs swell upon seeing her.

“Did your Grace have fun?” she asks with sheer curiosity, closing the book with a light thud.

“Fun?” he repeats, as if she had just suggested she had proof unicorns from Skagos were real.

“Surely it was not that bad? I mean, yes, Syradhor is boring and yes, he has that annoying habit of touching you as he talks, but he has a great collection of wines. I should have told you. There’s no other way to survive him.”

“He has a litter of daughters” Aemond sneers, walking to her “each of them duller than the other.”

“Well, that happens when you fuck your relatives. You, above all, should know that.”

He looks at her questioningly and she leans forward to place the book on a little table, the soft fabric of her lilac gowns slips on her skin just as his eye slips on her bare thighs, glowing as gold under the candlelight. “His wife is his niece.” She says, looking up and catching his staring.

His eye trails slowly over her until locking her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“You forgot this.” She says, raising her hand with his dagger held between her fingers.

Aemond stops before her, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at her “You were waiting for me, to give me back my dagger?”

She takes a good amount of time, while looking at him, feeling his eye, darkened due to the dim light and boring into her, to utter a simple “No."

“Then why?”

She rises, handing the blade, and says “I believe we had a score to settle.”

Aemond takes the blade from her hands, nodding slowly, and then circles her to go sit where she was a moment ago, placing the blade on the armrest, along with his hands. “And what was it?” he asks with a faint smirk. If she’s keen on playing games, he will let her play this one. “Somehow, it’s eluding me now.”

She watches him cross his long legs, tilting his head as he awaits, and she says “Your braid needs to be redone.”

“Hmm.” Aemond looks around, almost amused, and sees his bed, not exactly in order as it was when he left, but slightly crumpled.

Did she lie on his bed? Did she touch herself and peak, writhing on his sheets? The thought alone tickles his spine, but still, he betrays nothing, only the faint tapping of his fingers against the armrest. “You’ve been here all this time to give me back my dagger and redo my hair.”

She watches his fingers moving and she’s moving. She would like to take his hand and pick up where they left off, but she just sits on his lap, forcing him to uncross his legs, and spread them a little to make her room. “I deeply cherish my guests and their welfare under my roof.” She jests, although it’s partially true.

The only difference is that she never spent hours waiting for one of her guests, or any man, nor fantasizing about all the ways that man could take her, not as fervently as she did as her hand moved relentlessly between her legs, finding but a mere flicker of the pleasure he had just started to spill from her.

“And did you…” his tone is coarse, so he pauses to swallow. He hates that his voice is coming out so low, he hates that this woman can reduce him like this in a matter of minutes, that his cock is already stirring. “Did you eventually take that urgent matter into your own hands?”

She takes a long lock of silver hair between her fingers, running them through it while she quietly answers

“Twice.”

“Here?”

“Yes.” She looks at him, while her fingers start to work on that lock, making a little braid using only one hand. “Disappointing.”

“The room or your hands?”

“Oh, the room was quite fine.” she lets the little braid rest among the other locks and trails her fingers on his chest, and a moment later underneath the silk, like tentacles. “I only wished I had your hands inside me.”

Her touch licks flames on his skin, on his chest, collarbone, and neck; she touches him with intent, as if she wishes to know what he is made of. “You could have come with me.”

“I didn’t lie, I had some matters to attend to. Besides, coming with you would have left us in quite a situation.” She reasons with diplomacy, not making a blink as her other tentacle slides over his stomach, disappearing underneath. “Sneaking around the Ore Palace to find a place to fuck.”

Aemond exhales heavily as she takes hold of him, parting his lips as she palms him thoroughly.

“Did you think of that while you were with those pretty girls?” she asks, watching his eyelid flicker “I know they’re pretty. Dumb, but pretty.”

He has no idea who she’s talking about. He rests his head against the armchair and opens his mouth as her ministrations grow cadenced and yet unbearably slow.

“Did you think of me?” she asks, softly panting along with him for the mere sight “of taking me in some hidden corner? Of putting your hands on me if I had been there?”

His nails dig into the armrest, around his dagger, until his knuckles go white. Truth is that he did. Sipping that cup of wine, the smell of her on his fingers only made him think of her, and how she would squirm if he touched her right there, under the table. How she would bite her lower lip to swallow her moans as she came all over his fingers.

“I did.” She admits with almost religious honesty. “I came twice thinking of your hands.”

Not a moment later, they are both growling with need as he slams his mouth on hers in a mess of tongues and teeth, and then she gasps, because his hand is on her core, moving already, gathering her wetness and spreading it. “Did you think of this? Hmm?” he croons, watching her closely, rejoicing upon seeing her face scrunching just as it did earlier, wantonly, pleading.

“No…” she mumbles.

“What do you mean no?”

Her hand slips behind his neck, in order to keep his head firm and his face glued to hers. “Inside…” she cooes urgently “I need them inside.”

It’s almost shameful for a proud man like him, how swiftly he obeys, but even if he didn’t want to, she’s so wet for him, dripping and coating his palm, that his fingers would’ve eventually slipped inside.

He sticks them all the way in, flexing and curling, hitting that spot and spilling a loud moan from her, who instantly sinks her hips down, rocking to goad him to start moving. He grants her this other little mercy, pumping nimbly with a squelching sound, going rock hard as she arches on top of him, keeping one hand clamped around his neck and the other on his knee, to find the right angle.

“There you go…” he rasps, watching his fingers disappear inside, feeling her spongy walls hot and squeezing “’Tis what you wanted?”

She is too occupied with trying to catch a puff of air to be bothered to answer, but he wants one. He stops altogether, winning a whine of protest and a flashing glare before her face wrinkles with desperate need.

“Not talking now?” he mocks and then swiftly, he is curling his fingers in a cruel way, drawing a choked whimper out of her throat.

“Yes. Yes, it is what I wanted.”

“Hmm. Go on, then. Take it.” And he spreads his legs a little more to give her room “Fuck my hand.”

Exhaling a small breath of air, she talks almost to herself. “A woman must do everything these days.”

“You won’t be saying that later.”

“Why, what happens later?”

“I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“That sounds a bit pretentious.”

“And you should have learned by now not to doubt my word.”

And doubt him she won’t, not now. She starts to move, swaying her hips and arching her neck as soon as pleasure washes over her. She would like to savor it, to take this slow, as she likes it, but her low muscles are so tensed and aching; she feels the peak near and can't do anything but run towards.

Aemond watches with labored breath as she rocks and grinds on him desperately, growing frantic by the moment, feeling her arousal down to his wrist, dampening his own silks, spilling a faint unbearable pleasure from the way her flesh grinds against his cock. And he finds himself moaning out of pleasure and pain as she draws near to her peak, gripping his neck hard, pulling at the roots of his hair while emitting a string of short and sharp cries next his ear, until she’s trembling all over, coming with a free and loud moan on his hand.

She tries to regain some air, panting in his ear as she rides the last throes. This, this is what she’s been fantasizing, even dreamed of it. No man has ever made her feel like this, a pulsing heart pounding in every inch of her body, a living flame bathing in fire.

Slowly, she tilts her head back and he takes his hand off her hot, pulsing flesh. She looks down, at her pleasure wrinkling his fingertips, and then up, straight into his turbid eye. He brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them, to taste her, but she snatches his wrist and, staring at him, she engulfs his index with her lips.

He’s tempted to look away, and not wonder how her perfect lips would close around his cock, but he keeps watching as she keeps tasting herself, on his middle finger, and then the ring one.

“How do you taste?”

“Me? Oh, this is not me.” She draws close until she nudges her nose against his and says “Pleasure tastes like the ones we desire.” She kisses him, slowly, darting her tongue in his mouth until he’s humming, tasting bittersweet. “This is your doing.”

A moment later she gasps, holding onto his shoulders because he rises abruptly, lacing his arms around her to hold her and take those few steps that separate them from his bed.

They fall on the soft mattress and her hands fly to his silks, willing to tear them apart until he’s bare. And he helps her, moving his lean shoulders to let the slippery fabric fall. She had thought Qartheen silks suited him perfectly, but now she thinks she’d rather have him like this all day. Her eyes roam freely on his lean body, dented in a few spots by burns and scars of war, a soldier’s body and yet not burly: he’s all refined and graceful, like a sculpture. It makes her mouth go dry, pushing her eyes down, on the thin waist and the prominent v-shape of his muscles.

Willfully, she grasps the soft belt cinching his waist, but he stops her wrists.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks with short breath, and the candles around catch the flashing steel of his dagger, held in his left hand.

“Valyrian steel?”

“The sharpest blade in the world.” and deftly, he twirls it.

It catches her eye for a moment, but then she drags her gaze back on him, relaxing on the sheets with an ounce of challenge in her eyes. “You will have to show me.”

Something wild bursts in his eye, wide and piercing. “Are you offering?”

She cracks a half heated, half cunning smile and says “I’m demanding.”

Aemond lies beside her, holding himself up on one elbow, and with bated breath, she watches his other arm move, bringing the dagger, and its pointy end, to the lilac woven shielding her torso. Slowly and cautiously, he slips the steel under a stripe of silk, locking his eye on her as she startles from the coldness of the blade. He flicks his wrist up, and the steel cuts the silk instantly and smoothly. But he doesn’t stop there, dragging the blade down, cutting all, unraveling her body, and not missing the way her stomach jolts, her breath hitches, and not out of fear.

He trails his eye all over her body, glowing under the candles, lingering on the soft patch of hair below her navel; his mouth goes dry and his mind blank. He lets the blade go and drifts down, grabs her legs and forces them open, hardening impossibly more upon seeing her previous peak still coating her cunt in a glistening veil.

She sees him hovering right on her center, anticipation quickens her breath but perhaps also a faint reluctance for what he’s about to do. She would complain about it with Dora, saying most of her lovers just sat there lapping at it like some thirsty dog in the desert. Once, she had even opened a book while having a man’s head between her thighs.

It is therefore with great shock that she abruptly gasps, out loud, when he slams his mouth on her cunt, raising his eye to watch her. She tastes sweeter than he’d expected, and he’s not one for sweet tastes, but this one, he wants it all.

His tongue swirls up and down her folds, circling slowly, making her back arch, her jaw slack open. “Oh God—” she moans once, and twice, unconsciously pushing her hips against his face, feeling the sharp bone of his nose nudging her bundle.

“If you have to sing my praises, then do it properly.” he rasps against her flesh, stopping, but not quite. He brings one hand on her apex, circling it with his thumb, torturing but not as she wants. “Please—” she begs freely, writhing beneath him.

“Please what?” he teases, licking his lips “You like to talk, don’t you? Then use your words.” He presses his thumb deeper and faster, and she whines, in pleasure and protest. “Please—with your tongue”

“Please…?”

“Aemond—”

“Again.”

He has half a mind to make her say his name until she loses her voice, but at the second time she utters it, her vowels even more open given her debauchery, he caves and grips her thighs harshly to keep them as spread open as he can. What happens next is a string of cries and choked moans as his tongue licks and sucks and pierces inside; he eats her thoroughly humming with sheer delight and occasionally groaning as, without being able to avoid it, he grinds against the mattress to gain some relief.

Pleasure coils in her belly as it never did before. She’d never been able to reach her peak like this, whether the occasional man was not that good at that practice or maybe because she’d never longed for anyone as she longs for the Prince. She’s not able to control her voice as she comes straight into his mouth, she’s not able to control her muscles shaking all over, nor her hand, flying into his hair, pulling and pushing him against her as she practically rides his face in the last spasms.

She lies there for a moment, ears numb and heart pounding like a hammer, but she has little time to come to her senses; he moves, leaning on top of her, mouth and chin slick. It makes her strangely proud to see it. This time, her hands are free to roam, discarding the last silks until he’s completely bare. Aemond slips between her legs, hissing at feeling her moist flesh against his. He cannot wait any longer, as he moves to angle her hips and bury himself inside her, she grabs his face, forcing him to look up.

“Show me.”

It takes him barely a moment to get what she means. He freezes on the spot, and looks down with a grimace.

“You saw mine.” She says sofly. And it’s true. Even if he didn’t know, he saw, he touched, her wound.

And maybe it’s because he did, and he knows it to be true that this time there’s no reluctance, or rejection choking down his words. “I am sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, you couldn’t—”

“No. Not about last night.”

All I wanted was for him, anyone, to say they were sorry for what had been done to me.

Air hitches in her throat as she stares at him with wide eyes. He has that unwavering stone-like look on his face and she knows he means it. No second purpose could ever force his tongue into saying that, because he doesn’t have any. He had her already, and he would have her again, whether he had spoken those words or not. But he means it. He chooses all his words too carefully to waste them on lies.

All she knows now, is that she wants him. A foreign, fierce willing like the one that possessed her the night before, urging her to stay right where she was, to goad him to take her harder, instead of begging him to stop.

She grips his neck and surges to kiss him, moaning with liberation into his mouth, swallowing his soft growl as her hand slips between them, grabbing him and guiding him against her entrance. He pushes in ever so easily, and she throws her head back on the sheets, gasping at the stretch while he rests his forehead on her chest, struggling to breathe as he buries himself inside her.

The bushes pierce through his feet, bleeding on the ground, a pain he is well accustomed.

One must walk barefoot in the Wood of Shadows.

The long blue robe rustles in the wind; it is loud in his ears, wailing, as it does nowhere else.

He stops next to a black barked tree and leans his ear against it. Glancing up, a mantle of dark leaves wave in the sky, bleeding blue.

He hurries up, resuming his path. His right hand trembles incessantly as it always does next to it. Fortunately, he holds the little vial in his other hand, safe.

The Palace of Dust is covered in dark, not even a torch lighting the way. They say there are no walls or ceilings there. They say there is no such thing as time in the House of the Undying.

He opens one door and enters a round room, clothed in dark, except for one, faint white light coming from a hole in the ground. A water well, translucent; soft waves curl the surface, rippled by no trace of wind.

There is only one man standing in the light, looking into the water. The others are scattered around the room.

“Is he Seeing?” asks the man with the trembling hand.

“Hush. Did you bring it?” answers another, coming into view under the faint white light.

“Here.” He hands over the vial. “I’ve never seen so much of it. Leaves are bleeding as we speak. It’s like an awakening.”

“It is awakening.” says the other, his eyes barely visible under the cloak.

“But why?”

He receives a long scornful look. “You are weak. That is why you’re reduced like that.” the other says, glancing at his hand “You cannot bear it.”

“We are awakening.” Says another voice from somewhere “We awaken in the presence of the most ancient and powerful magic.”

“Fire?” tries the trembling man.

The one with the vial turns his head, nodding. “And blood.”

He walks to the man standing before the well. He is looking into the translucent water. He doesn’t blink. Seems like he’s not even breathing. But there’s a strange curve on his blue lips, hardly visible. Almost a smile, a fond one.

“Fydor.”

Only then, the man blinks and turns his head.

“Freshly collected.” the other lifts his arm, showing the little vial. Under the well’s light, the liquid shines with a vivid blue.

The mute warlock takes it and swiftly lifts the cap. The other hurries to take a step back, while the one with the trembling hand widens his eyes with almost dread. His fingers start to shake maniacally, as he watches the man in the light drinking the Shadow.

All the others, at once, seem to emit a choked snarling sound, as thirsty men in the desert upon seeing a pool of water.

The empty vial falls to the floor, breaking in little pieces, the water in the well moves as rippled by an opposite wind, and Fydor makes a choking sound; his eyes rolls over like in a seizure, and then they stop.

The pupil is gone, all is left is the white, but it is not white, not anymore. Too much Shadow of the Evening. His lips, nails and white of his eyes are blue for good.

At times, it lasts for hours. Others, it’s barely a minute. But there’s no time in the House of the Undying.

When it ends, it could be morning outside, they do not know, and they do not care.

“Fydor?” the same one asks when the warlock’s pupils are back in their place.

The man looks at him for a moment, and then starts moving his hands jerkily. “It is time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to act.”

“What about your daughter?”

For a moment, Fydor looks into the well. “Kori is on her own path now. I cannot interfere. She won’t let me. But seeds must be sown.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Keeping his blue eyes on the water, transfixed, he moves his hands. ��What do you do with an old forest so new trees can grow?”

“Burn it.”

The man with the trembling hand looks between the two, warily. “What does it mean?”

Fydor turns, slowly, a shadow falling on his face. “It is quite simple, acolyte. For there to be order, there must be chaos first.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💕💕

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merlinssassybeard · 11 months

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'Ex' husband Gojo - The Aftermath- 01

Tags- self harm, miscarriage, mention of cheating

Synopsis- A look at reader's mental state after the entire ordeal with Gojo.

Part 3 // series masterlist

The maid was just about to enter the private chambers of Lady Y/n to pick up the dishes before she stopped in her tracks and started eavesdropping the conversation...

"Taking pills...precautions...pregnancy...we should divorce.....i...carry children......Satoru..."

These were the words she heard. It was as if the ground shifted from beneath her feet. What she heard was the news of the century.

It didn't take her long to run back to her servants quarters and spread the word...

The Gojo household staff comprises of only five women, one is an attendant of yours and two male out of which one is head staff of the household.

All the servants started gossiping about the matter. It didn't take them long to call their friend servants in other big and small households.

In no time the news of The Gojo Satoru and Y/n, the window (as everybody loved to call you in jujutsu society), Divorcing and supposed pregnancy spread like a deadly wild fire...

Satoru was busy in his mission in Seoul, he had no idea of anything and was scheduled to be back in time for the New Year's Eve Party.

An evening event held at the Gojo Clan's Estate which is attended by illustrious people from both sorcerers to non sorcerers backgrounds.

From Japanese Royal family and aristocrats families, The Zenins, The Kamo, The Council of the Higher ups and every other Clans to J-pop stars, actors, models, polticians, wtiters and whoever not!

The Event is a private Party where red carpets and paparazzis are not allowed but the event's pictures sure find their way to Page 6 each year. Displaying the lavish lives of the noble families of Japan.

For the last 4 years, as the Lady of the Gojo Clan, you hosted this lavish party at the main Gojo Estate. Before you, it was your mother in law.

For someone who comes from an average lower middle class family, you have quite the taste in decor, food, fashion, art and knowledge on hosting parties, qualities that are a must for a Wife of high and Noble stature.

Satoru's mother and the entire Clan was very reluctant to have you in the family. She was against this marriage but Satoru being Satoru, her only son and a total mama's boy, she couldn't get herself to say no.

After your marriage, you both, newlyweds, were living in the main estate but after 5 to 6 months Satoru decided to shift to a new house where both of you will start your newly wedded life.

Your mother in law had accepted you in the family after she got to know you and as a gesture wanted you to stay as she wanted to be the"first to get the news of her grandchildren" verbatim.

Every Clan head's wife has a special personal attendant who lives with them in the household. They are supposed to look after the wife as their lady companion, the woman they could rely on.

You too had one, Mrs Kori.

Mrs Kori was your assigned attendant. But she did not lived with you in the same house. You had allowed her to live with her own family, unlike other wives. She only attended official family Events with you as a part of her duty. You have a semi-formal relationship with her.

30th December, 2016

It was about time for the New Year's Event.

Previously, you would enthusiastically start preparations a month prior, considering it is not a small tea party rather a big event where everyone has their eyes on you as you are The Host.

You would rush at the Gojo Estate and get started with placing orders for flowers, preparing the huge garden for guests, writing invitations and a million other decorations. Your mother in law would watch and suggest or support you every now and then since she's been doing this for over 30 years.

But this time, which would have been your fifth year, it was all gloomy.

Satoru's mother was very concerned regarding the both of you. She noticed how this year you didn't celebrate her only lovely son's birthday neither did you began any planning for the Party.

She wanted to come to see what's gotten onto you but couldn't as she took back the reins of organizing the evening party. Although she did let you know through one her servants that she's taken over.

You on the other hand, wanted to recover from everything that has been going on.

Its LIFE afterall. And life is like a river, you cannot stop moving just like that. Moving forward through all the obstacles, IS life.

Your head was convincing you with all motivation it could but your heart just wanted to hold onto the little snow globe containing an Eiffel Tower, one of Satoru's souvenirs that you found by your bed, just sitting in a corner few days ago.

You were aware about the New Year's Event but you just couldn't get yourself out of bed let alone be out of the house and organize a large scale star studded event. All because of everything going on and that day... 25th of December.

You did something which you shouldn't have... a very horrendous action, a very lowly act indeed.

You wanted to go out and free your mind and to prepare yourself to look normal for the new year crowd. The first interaction with people besides your staff since the whole fiasco with your husband went down.

Your friends from the office you worked with before quitting and marrying Gojo, had called you in for Christmas drinks evening. You went and had drinks but later it took turn for the worse when you went to the house of one of your male co-workers who had a crush on you, and spent the night...

In the days following after spilling the entire ordeal to Shoko, you started developing a weird and concerning 'obsession'...

It started accidentally though but eventually you liked it or simply found it better as a 'punishment' for your actions.

It was just an innocent scratch when the glass fell on the ground and shattered and hurt your knee. But slowly, it took a darker turn and you would start to 'scratch' with a razor on your inner thighs.

It didn't take long when you would just think about that night of 25th December while in a bathtub filled with water and you trying to drown yourself in it only to rush out and slit your wrists with the razor in anger and frustration.

It felt weirdly... nice?

@sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @Enaaneaen @sweet-almond @Angel_🫶🏻@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0peful @kugisakinobarades @witchbybirth @nineooooo @ssc7514 @Hana-patata @blue_spices @haikyuubiggestsimp @urstepmom69 @hueneve @chayunwoo@waosobii @nadzhaf @yoriichiswife @tiltraumadouspart @kirschtein123 @whoisobsessed @Asala @ashthemadwriter @remnirris @svm666 @voidsatoru @staygoldsquatchling02 @dunnowhy-m @nnasv @violetmatcha @dummyf @Noblog @Littledemoness15 @shaiah @iluv-ace @mmeerraa @angellyah @0bakuzan @waxhers @chanelmalandro @shoutobrainrot @narutosolosurfav @Kei-b-gurlll @🫶🏼 @angrydaughter @Screw-aebi@asdfghjkl7things @kodzukenwhore @gabile18 @bollockswhy @pelicanpizza@electro-supremacy @Zatannaswifeblog@spam-and-eggs @guenievresworld @b0scuit@aliventboo @marit332 @bbylime @ieathairs @hells-escapees @no-name222

Apologies if i forgot to add your blog

AN- There's a 2nd part to this chapter, which will be released after few corrections. Thank you for your support and patience.

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hazelminesims · 1 month

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When mama decides to put her heart and soul into a meal and the kid decides to eat cereal instead.

*sidenote: I unfortunately had to change Kori's face. I don't know what happened but his nose and ears had jagged edges. Kira has some around her eyes but not nearly as bad. 🙁

#simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4mm simblr #sim: geena #sim: kori #running with wolves :sims 4

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crybabylulu · 5 months

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I saw this TikTok using this audio being like oh I’m in jail I need your help and the person on the other end being like wait your in jail so this means this is your only phone call and the person in jail is like yeah and then the other person hangs up the phone someone was like this is Jason and tim and I was like nah Jason not calling Tim 🤣 I was like Jason’s calling Roy not Tim but he still don’t answer and someone was like yeah but then he’s still calling Tim after and I’m like he can’t if that’s his one phone call 🤣 SO BECAUSE OF THAT TIKTOK HERES A LIST MY BF AND I MADE OF WHO JASON IS CALLING WAY BEFORE TIM!

1. Roy because besties but like I said Roy don’t answer because he got a baby to deal with

2. Rose but she not coming to get him she like damn that’s crazy I’m doing stuff with my dad

3. Starfire and she’s probably coming to get him because that’s her brother in law and her bestie

4. Artemis (his lil boo thang) she not coming she cussing him out like no tomorrow asking him how stupid he could be probably going up there to actually laugh at him and still call him stupid (she might break him out later cause she miss her little spoon in the bed)

5. Bizaro he answered but Artemis told him he can’t go so he had to tell Jason she said no

6. Damian but see he know Damian is gonna tell Grayson and Grayson is gonna panic and go get his brother while Damian laughing BUT BUT! He might not tell Grayson and just got get Jason just way later but he gonna get him

7. Talia mama coming to get her son but see he know if he call she dragging him back to the league

8. Harley but she already in jail so they just probably figure out an escape plan

9. Grayson but he’s probably busy with Kory and also idc I feel like that man never answer the phone he just be showing up at the manor excepting whatever sibling that called to just be there

Jason is not calling Bruce that’s not a fucking option fuck Bruce 🤣

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smilesrobotlover · 2 months

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AO3

<<Prev Next>>

Chapter 6- Hold Me so I Feel Safe

Uli watched anxiously from her home as Colin and Talo paced at the entrance of Ordon. Mayor Bo wanted the two to be the backup for Link and Rusl in case anything happened, meanwhile Beth and Bo would protect the village if there was an attack. So far, no monsters have invaded the village, but Rusl and Link haven't returned either, even when the sun went down, plunging the village into darkness. Uli should’ve slept, and she tried to, but waking up to her husband still missing in bed kept her from being able to. All she could do was watch the entrance as Colin and Talo waited impatiently. Every minute that passed felt like an hour, and her worry grew with every second that Rusl and Link weren’t there. Soon, the sun began to break the horizon, and Uli felt a lump in her throat. She watched Colin and Talo waste no time to move out, with Beth and Bo watching the entrance as they left. Dread rested in Uli’s stomach as she watched her son leave the village, possibly facing something dangerous enough that kept Link and Rusl from returning. She didn’t doubt Colin and Talo’s ability, but their fighting skills weren’t as great as Link and Rusl’s. If something happened to them… how would Colin help? What if he got hurt? What if Rusl and Link were hurt? What if she lost all of them simply because Bo and Coro practically forced them to investigate the woods at night?

“Mama?”

Uli looked behind her where Rela and Kori stood, watching her with worried eyes.

“Is papa still gone?” Rela asked in a small voice, her hand clutching onto Kori’s as his eyes got watery. Uli bit her lip and looked up at the entrance, hoping that Rusl and Link would walk right through, laughing and alive. She took a deep breath when nothing changed, and she faced the children. She couldn’t cry about this, she needed to be strong for them.

“Yes, Rela, they’re still searching the woods,” she said, praying that they were still searching and weren’t fighting for their lives.

Rela frowned. “Maybe I can help Colin to find them! I have a wooden sword! I can fight bad guys with it!”

Uli quickly shook her head. “No, Rela, you will stay here until they return, ok?”

Rela pouted and Kori looked down, his bottom lip quivering. Uli’s heart broke and she knelt down to be at eye level.

“Kori, baby, they’re going to be ok.”

Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “I— I want my papa.”

Uli pulled him into a hug. “I know you do, sweetheart, I know you do.” Uli held him for a moment as he cried, and she looked over to see if anything had changed. It didn’t. She stood up and gestured to the kitchen. “How about we eat breakfast, ok?”

Kori nodded glumly and he and Rela sat at the table as she started making food for them. Uli was constantly looking out the window every chance she got, anxiously seeing if the boys had returned, but there was still no sign of them. After she made breakfast, she sat at the window, watching the entrance as if her life depended on it. Kori and Rela finished their breakfast and started playing silently, making Uli far more anxious. Goddesses, what if she had to live the rest of her life like this? What if they never returned and she was the only one who could take care of Kori and Rela? What if she lost all the happiness and joy she’s had for years now that her family brought. She couldn’t imagine losing all of that in seconds, she just couldn’t!

Before she could spiral further into the horrifying thought, Uli saw Beth shoot up and run to the entrance, and her heart beat against her chest as if it were trying to escape. She held her breath in anticipation, and she saw Beth enter Ordon, then Talo, then Colin, and finally, Rusl and Link. Uli let out a cry when she saw the two and she ran out the door, sprinting to the group.

“Rusl!” She shouted out, and she pulled her husband into a hug, crying into his shoulder from relief.

“PAPA!” She heard Kori yell as he sprinted to his father, with Rela following closely, and she heard sighs of relief coming from everyone.

Rusl leaned into Uli, resting his head against the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped weakly around her. He felt tired. Uli pulled back and cupped his face so she could observe him. His eyes were half open and bloodshot, heavy bags were beneath him, and overall, he looked exhausted.

“Oh spirits above, what happened out there?” She asked, looking at Link who looked a tad better, but not by much.

“Ma, make sure he gets some rest, ok?” Link said, pulling away from the group and moving towards his house.

“Link—“ Rusl called out for him but Link stopped him.

“I’m going to tell everyone and write the letter, ok? You get some rest.”

“You need rest too.”

“I’ll get rest when I’m done, I promise!”

The two seemed rather agitated, but they didn’t argue further. The group watched Link walk away, and Uli frowned.

“Tell us what? What letter? What’s going on?” She asked, and Rusl let out a heavy sigh.

“I… don’t… don’t go to Faron woods,” he said simply, and Uli looked at everyone else, specifically Bo who looked worried.

“What do ya mean, Rusl? What did you two see out there?” The mayor asked him, and Rusl shook his head.

“‘m too tired to explain it just… stay away from Faron woods. Especially at night, please.”

Beth and Talo gave each other a worried look, and Kori and Rela pressed themselves up against Rusl’s legs.

“Well, let’s get you to bed, ok Rusl?” Uli finally spoke up, she gestured for her kids and Kori to follow. “I assume you’ll be staying with us, dear.”

Kori nodded and looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. Uli didn’t know what happened, but she couldn’t help but feel worry over what was happening. But at least her boys were alive.

Thank the spirits they were alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uli stared at Rusl’s folded clothes in front of her. She spent a good chunk of the morning trying to wash them, but they were stained black. His shirt, his headband, his trousers, his beloved ordon obi and sash, it was all covered in black splotches. Uli figured that it was all mud, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, it wouldn’t come out. His shirt and pants were ripped in some places as well, and she came to the conclusion that his clothes were a lost cause. But she figured she could keep these until Rusl confirmed for her to throw them out. So she folded up them up and set them down on the table after they were dried. And she simply stared. Everyone in the house was quiet and the air was tense. Rusl passed out as soon as he got to bed, Colin sat in a chair watching Kori and Rela protectively, and the two kids simply stared at their toys. Link had been running around the village talking to everyone and even making Coro stay with Fado. But he never swung by to talk to the family, she assumed he was saving them for last.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by screaming coming from Uli’s room, and she felt her heart leap to her throat. She and Colin stood up and rushed to the door, swinging it open to see Rusl wide awake and panting, clutching his chest as his eyes looked around frantically. They landed on Uli and Colin and he relaxed slightly. Uli gave Colin a look and he nodded, returning to his spot by the children, who looked terrified.

“It’s ok, dears,” she said softly to them, entering her room to where Rusl was. He was silent as she sat down next to him, and he avoided her gaze.

“Rusl?” She said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled slightly, but it looked forced. He gave her hand a gentle pat.

“I’m ok… just had a nightmare.”

Uli frowned as he looked away, clearly disturbed by the nightmare. She began to rub his back which made him relax, and she let out a sigh.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” She asked. She was willing to wait, but she and Rusl made sure to tell each other everything. If something was out in Faron woods, she needed to know.

Rusl shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Uli nodded and stood up. “Get some rest, darling,” she simply said, beginning to head to the door, until Rusl gripped her arm, stopping her. She looked over at him confused, and he had a desperate, almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Uli… could you… um… just… stay with me?” He asked, quietly. Uli smiled and sat down next to him, opening her arms to him. He relaxed and rested his head on her chest, allowing himself to be held by her. She rubbed his back and neck, ruffling his soft hair. The motion seemed to soothe him, and he was back to sleeping. Uli continued to hold him, not wanting to leave his side. She wanted to be here when he woke up again, she wanted him to feel safe by another person being beside him. Rusl began snoring softly and she giggled quietly, resting her head against his and closing her eyes. She’ll be here for him, and when he’s ready to talk to her about what happened, then she’ll still be here to listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colin glared blankly at the ground in front of him, his sword resting in his lap as if something would attack any second. Rela and Kori were chatting quietly about their toys, and his sister glanced at him.

“Colin? Do you think papa will be ok?”

Colin looked up at her, interrupted from his staring. He sighed and shrugged. “Yeah he should be.”

“Why was he screaming?”

“Nightmare.”

Kori and Rela glanced at each other worriedly.

“I get nightmares too, maybe I can sing grandpa a song?” Kori suggested, beginning to stand up, but Colin stopped him.

“Not right now, Kori. Let gramma take care of him, ok?”

Kori pouted and sat back down, petting his cat plush gently.

“What do you think happened?” Rela asked quietly, staring Colin down. He simply shrugged.

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say,” Colin frowned at the memory of him and Talo finding the two men. They were by the Faron spring, both looking filthy and exhausted. Colin nearly got tackled to the ground by Link when he ran up to them, clearly jumpy from whatever happened that night. No matter how hard Colin pressed, they simply brushed his questions away. It couldn’t be a bear, they would’ve said so, and he was sure that if it was, they wouldn’t have been gone all night. At least not running around the woods, which was clearly what they were doing.

The door opened, causing Colin to flinch. Link was in the doorway, his cheeks flushed red as he glanced around the room. Kori got up and hugged Link’s legs, and he quickly gave his son a squeeze. Colin joined the two at the doorway, anxious to finally know what was going on.

“Link—“

“I gotta get mine and Kori’s things, I’ll be right back,” Link cut him off, giving Kori a kiss on the head. “Is there anything you need from the house?”

Kori looked at his toys and shook his head. Link nodded and left before Colin was able to register what was happening.

“Wait—“ he started, but Link was already gone. Colin let out a frustrated huff as Kori returned to his place next to Rela. The door to his parent’s bedroom opened and his mother peeked her head through.

“Was Link just here?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say? Did he tell you what happened?”

“No, he just left.” Colin returned to his place on the chair, glaring ahead. Uli tilted her head at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… worried. And confused.”

Uli walked over to him and ruffled his hair, pulling him into a side hug. “We all are.”

“Is pa ok?”

“Yes. I just came out here to grab another blanket for him.”

“Did he tell you what happened?”

“No, he doesn’t want to talk about it yet.”

Colin groaned. “All this waiting around is just making me anxious.”

“Me too, dear. But right now, your pa needs time to open up about it.”

Colin sighed as he leaned against his mother, staring at the doorway.

“Where was Link going?” His ma asked.

“To get his and Kori’s things.”

“Well… maybe he needs help?” She suggested, giving Colin a look. He glanced at her confused.

“I think he’s fine—“

“Go help him, Colin. See if he’s willing to open up to you.”

Colin’s eyes widened in surprise and he sat up. “Will you be ok with the kids?”

Uli gave Rela and Kori a smile. “Of course I will. You talk to Link, and I’ll talk to your pa when he’s ready. That way they won’t have to repeat everything to us.”

Colin smiled slightly and nodded, heading out the door to follow Link. The air felt eerie as Colin walked to Link’s house. The people that were out were speaking in hushed tones, watching Colin as he silently walked. He was relieved to reach the clearing that held Link’s treehouse, away from the stares. Epona was pacing the ground, clearly feeling the anxieties in the air, and Colin heard rummaging coming from the home. He jumped up the ladder and knocked on the door before letting himself in. There were bags sitting in the middle of the floor, and he heard noises coming from the basement.

“Link?” Colin called out, certainly not wanting to surprise him with his presence. There was silence, then grunting as Link emerged from the basement, carrying another bag.

“Colin? What are you doing here?”

“I… just thought that you could use some help,” Colin muttered, suddenly getting nervous about asking Link what happened. His older brother furrowed his brows, then looked at the bag around his shoulders.

“There’s not a lot. I can handle it just fine.”

Colin sighed and looked down. “Link I… I just wanna know what happened.”

Link stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I bring our stuff over—“

“No you won’t. I know you won’t. You’ll just tell us to avoid the forest and then head out to deal with it with the rest of us feelin’ confused.” Colin blurted out without thinking. He immediately regretted it, but where he was expecting anger, Link’s face only held exhaustion.

“Listen, y’all don’t need to know everything,” he said quietly.

“If there’s something going on in the woods, don’t you think I should know what it is?” Colin pressed. “I’m not the scared kid I was before, I can protect myself and Ordon, and I want to. But I can’t do that without knowing everything!” Link’s face was blank as he stared at Colin, and he quickly added more, “I can relay the message to the others so you won’t have to explain everything again.”

Link stared at Colin for a long moment, a concerned expression on his face. His jaw twitched as his eyes looked back and forth, and he opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again. Colin raised an eyebrow as Link turned his head away.

“It was… just a monster,” he mumbled, and Colin rolled his eyes.

“I know it wasn’t just a monster! You and pa would’ve said something!”

Link glared at him for a moment, then plopped his bag with the small pile on the floor and sat down, rubbing his eyes. Colin watched him patiently, staying in the same spot with his arms crossed.

“Colin… it… it was a shadow beast.”

Colin’s blood ran cold and he felt his eyes widen. Fear took hold of him and memories of hiding in the sanctuary from black monsters flooded in.

“H-how?” He asked quietly, and Link shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how it slipped under my radar after all these years.”

Colin felt himself sway a bit, and he sat down on the ground, his legs crossed. “Are— are you sure?”

Link nodded. “Positive. It let out a scream to paralyze me and pa, I’d recognize that scream anywhere.”

Colin looked away, remembering the battered men when he found them.

“So… what happened?”

Link gave Colin a look and opened his mouth to explain the story. He explained them searching around the house, he explained being paralyzed by a shriek, he explained looking for pa after it took him, and he explained fighting it until the sun began to rise. Colin listened to every word, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Link talked. He felt himself grow nauseous as he explained the beast vomiting Rusl up, and the implications made him lightheaded.

“Is this thing… eating people?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“I…. I’m not sure. The scent it…” Link trailed off, staring blankly at a spot on the ground. “None of it makes sense.”

Colin tilted his head at Link as he grew silent, his expression blank.

“Why didn’t it go after you?” He finally asked, and Link shrugged, staring at his left hand.

“I have some theories,” he answered, before letting out a heavy sigh. “How’s pa?”

“He’s fine, he had a bad nightmare but he's resting.”

Link nodded and smiled slightly, staring at the pile of bags with an exhausted look. Colin pursed his lips and stood up.

“Resting seems like something you should be doing too. Come on, let’s get this stuff to our house.”

Link’s eyes held a hint of stubbornness, but his exhaustion got the better of him and he nodded. Colin grabbed some bags and gave Link a small smile, before moving to the door.

“Colin.”

He turned around and saw Link glaring at him.

“You know how serious this situation is now. I need all of you to stay away from Faron woods. Stay together and do not go out at night. You understand?”

Colin nodded slightly. “I understand. If… me and the others can help you and pa fight it—“

“No, it may be a shadow beast, but whatever it was doing for ten years made it strong. Me and pa are going to castle town tomorrow to make a plan of attack, but for now, stay away from it.”

Colin looked down, feeling slightly disappointed that they were leaving so soon. “Alright. I’ll try to keep everyone safe.”

Link smiled slightly and gave Colin a quick hug, patting him on the back before pulling away.

“Thanks Colin. I hope I can solve this soon.”

“I know you will, you always do,” Colin said encouragingly, and Link looked down bashfully.

“Sure…”

Colin wrapped an arm around Link and guided him out the door. “Let’s go, you look like you’ll pass out any second now.”

Link chuckled and let himself be led out, his arm wrapped around his little brother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in a tight space, he couldn’t move his arms and legs. His body was bent at an awkward angle and the air was thick with moisture that he couldn’t breathe. He struggled to move, to crawl out of his prison, but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. Something wrapped tightly around his body, but he couldn’t see. It was pitch dark, and he felt helpless as tendrils snaked around him, coiling around his neck. He tried to scream for help, but he found he had no voice. He couldn’t break free, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to crawl out. He was hopeless, he was going to die, it was all over for him.

He was dead.

Rusl jolted awake, breathing heavily as the feelings from the nightmare lingered. His heart was beating quickly against his chest as he looked around the dark room. He squinted his eyes and went to sit up, but he felt something; something wrapped around him. He nearly panicked again, but he heard breathing, and realized that it was just Uli. He was in his home, with his wife laying behind him, one arm under his neck and the other under his arm. He let out a sigh of relief and laid his head back on the pillow, holding onto her hands. He was safe, he was ok…

Rusl closed his eyes, trying to relax in his wife’s hold, but he couldn’t. His mind kept returning from the night before, the beast that he saw, that attacked him, that Link saved him from. It’s black, eyeless face, it’s snarling yellow teeth. Rusl shuddered, flinching at every creak his house made. What if it was in Ordon? Watching him through the window? What if it came back for revenge? He looked behind him at his window, expecting to see a black beast snarling at him, but he found nothing. There was nothing, he was safe. But he didn’t feel safe, not even in his own home.

A desire to protect his wife and family overcame him, and he spun around, wrapping his arms around Uli. His wife began to stir from the sudden movement, and she pulled away, staring at him with tired eyes.

“Rusl?” She asked softly, looking around. “Is everything alright?”

Rusl bit his lip and sighed. He didn’t mean to wake her up….

“No, it’s ok, Uli, I’m sorry I woke you up… I’m just…”

Uli frowned and traced her fingers along his face. “What’s got you acting like this, darling?”

Rusl sighed. He should tell her. He knows he should tell her. But he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to relive that moment. Uli picked up on his hesitation and gave him a peck on the forehead. He melted into the kiss and hugged her tighter. Goddesses above he loved this woman. He loved her and she deserved to know what happened. He let go and sat up, staring at the dark room, only feeling comfort with Uli beside him. He never hated the dark…. But now…

“Rusl?”

Rusl took a deep breath and began to explain everything to her. When he and Link went to Coro’s house, when the creature shrieked and paralyzed them both. Rusl’s senses were clouded when that happened, and he barely got a good look at the creature with his torch. But he does remember when it grabbed him and snuffed out the fire. He tried to gloss over when he was inside the thing, since that was the part that got to him the most, but instead he spilled all his words out describing it. Describing the tendrils wrapping around him, keeping him in place he tried to escape the tight stomach. He didn’t know how or why the tendrils suddenly let go, but he was able to wiggle out of the stomach enough for the beast to vomit him up. The memory got too much for him at one point, and he himself felt like he was going to vomit. Uli held him as he tried to get ahold of himself, and he went back to explaining what happened, but in a much more disorganized manner. He truthfully didn’t remember much after he was pulled free from the mouth of the beast. His eyes were covered in black slop and he blacked out after a sharp pain went through his leg. He vaguely remembered something tightening around his ribs to the point where he couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t tell if he imagined it or not. Then he woke up to his son watching over him worriedly, and it was over. It was the morning and the beast was gone.

He looked at Uli awkwardly when he was finished. He hoped it all made sense, but he wasn’t focused on explaining it in an organized manner. Uli was silent as she thought about all that he told her, her hand never leaving his back.

“So, what are you going to do? Link mentioned letters.”

Rusl nodded. “Me and Link are heading to castle town to tell the resistance about this first thing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No. But we can’t sit in Ordon afraid for our lives while this thing takes people and—“ Rusl stopped himself. What was it doing to people? Devouring them? He was inside its stomach. If Link didn’t save him would he be…? He shuddered. He couldn’t think about that.

“Are you sure you’re fit to go to castle town? It sounds like you went through a lot, darling.”

“I’m sure. Link found fairies to heal us. We’ll be fine.”

Uli rubbed his back for a moment and sighed. “Alright, I take it you want us to stay out of Faron woods?”

Rusl nodded. “Avoid Faron woods, especially at night. Try to stay indoors and try to stay together, ok?”

Uli nodded, her brows pinched together. Rusl hugged her and rested his head against hers. Uli melted into the embrace and pulled them both down onto the bed.

“Please be safe,” she muttered, closing her eyes as she buried her face in his neck. Rusl didn’t reply, he just laid there holding his wife, listening to her beginning to snore softly. But Rusl couldn’t fall back asleep. He was on edge, he kept feeling like he was in danger, and eventually he pulled away and walked out into the living room with a spare sword in his hand. He spotted Kori resting against Link, and he smiled slightly. He didn’t think about them being out here, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Link was too far away from Ordon, it was safer with them both here. Rusl gently sat down in the armchair next to the couch, watching the door intently.

“Pa?”

Rusl turned and saw Link wide awake, holding his son in his arms.

“Can't sleep, Link?”

He shook his head. “Kinda hard to. I’m anxious to get to castle town.”

“Me too.”

Link sat up, laying Kori down and tucking him into the blankets. “So are we gonna talk about what happened?”

“I already discussed it with your ma, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Oh… ok, but…” Link stopped himself and sighed. “Never mind.”

Rusl frowned and studied his face. “Do… you want to talk about it?”

Link pursed his lips. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it all day and… I don’t know…”

Rusl sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just… that creature that attacked us… I… it can’t be…”

“What?”

“Well, I keep thinkin’ about it, and that thing was a shadow beast, but… it was so different.”

Rusl faced him fully. “Shadow beast? Aren’t those the Twili creatures that attacked us at the temple of time?” Link killed those creatures quickly before Rusl was able to comprehend what was happening. They were terrifying, bigger than a normal human, with otherworldly masks covering their face. He didn’t recall the beast that attacked them being the same, but then again, Link said they were different.

“Yeah, those are shadow beasts. Being around one as a light dweller will turn you into one, but… I don’t know, this thing didn’t seem to turn you into anything…”

Rusl shook his head in confusion. “Link, you’re not making any sense. You say it was a shadow beast, and though they’re similar, they were too different.”

Link shrugged and let out a sigh, leaning forward. “Sorry, I’m just thinking. It didn’t have a mask, it was big, and it seemed more powerful than a normal shadow beast. It… felt like a shadow beast that’s gotten powerful over the years. I’m just confused on how I missed it…I fought all the ones Zant sent to me, but where did this one come from?” Link frowned and looked up at Rusl, his blue eyes filled with worry. Rusl gave him a small smile, not fully understanding what Link was saying. His boy was rambling his thoughts out without thinking about how clear he was being. Link’s eyes suddenly got watery, and he turned away.

“Link?” Rusl shot to his feet and gathered his son in his arms, who melted into the embrace while crying. Rusl rubbed his back as he cried in his shoulder, rocking him back and forth.

“I–I was s-so worried ‘bout you,” Link whimpered, clutching Rusl tighter. “I thought you… you were gonna die and–” Link sobbed, interrupting his ramblings, and Rusl gave him a kiss on the head.

“I’m ok, son. I’m ok, thanks to you.” Tears were streaming down Rusl’s face as well. He thought he cried himself dry already, but apparently there were more tears to be shed. They held each other for a long while, the relief from his son being safe finally crashing down on him. Although it was an awful experience, Rusl would go through it over and over again if it meant his family would be safe. Though he began to wonder why the beast didn’t attack Link, and why it went for Rusl instead. He stopped crying as he thought about it, hearing his eldest hiccup quietly. He supposed it didn’t matter in the end, his son was safe, he was safe, and that was all that mattered. After a moment of crying, Link finally pulled away.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and Rusl scoffed affectionately, giving him one last squeeze.

“You don’t need to apologize, my boy.”

Link smiled and looked at his son, who was wrapped head to toe in blankets.

“Hope we didn’t wake him, we weren’t being quiet,” Rusl said with a chuckle, and Link shrugged.

“He’ll be fine…. Hopefully.”

The two chatted quietly the rest of the night, discussing their plan for the next morning, and how they were going to fight this beast with the help of the resistance. Rusl’s fear melted into fury as they discussed it, and he was ready to fight this thing. As soon as the sun began to rise, Rusl got up and started to get his things together. The sky was a dull gray as Link and Rusl strapped their things to their horses, explaining the situation to the confused residents of Ordon. Link was speaking to Kori quietly, giving him a hug and a kiss as Kori sadly hugged him back, while Rusl bid his farewells to Uli and Rela, and as he pulled away from his wife, she gave him a stern and worried look.

“I’ll be back, Uli. I trust you can keep them safe?” He said softly, and she smiled slightly.

“Yes, please be careful, darling.”

Rusl kissed her lips and nodded. “I will.”

When Rusl went to Colin, he was staring at the ground blankly, and Rusl tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Colin?”

“I– Link told me everything that happened and… I want to go with you guys!”

Rusl was taken aback. “You want to go with me and Link?”

Colin nodded. “I–I want to! I want to help you guys!”

Rusl smiled slightly, seeing courage in his once timid son, seeing passion in his eyes when there used to be content, it made him proud. He almost said yes, but he stopped himself. His smile fell and he gave Colin an apologetic look.

“Colin, I would love it for you to come, you’ve grown so strong and capable, but… It’s too dangerous, and I need you and the others to stay here to protect Ordon in case something happens, ok?”

Colin looked down sadly and nodded. “I understand.”

Rusl sighed and pulled him into a hug. Goddesses, his youngest son had grown up so much. He was mature, wise, and brave. Rusl couldn’t be more proud of him.

“Next time, next time I’ll take you with me,” he promised, giving him a firm pat on the back. “You’ll be a great addition to the resistance.”

Colin gave him a squeeze and pulled back, a sad smile on his face as Rusl pulled away to get on his horse. He and Link gave their family a nod and took off, silently riding to castle town.

#I just made this joke earlier but I don’t know how I feel about this one lol #don’t like it as much as the others #some parts I liked but idk #I’m not feeling the best this morning so that could do something with it idk #poor Colin just wants to help his pa and brother :((#and poor Kori and Uli and Rela. so worried #I love Uli. just a soft lady #smiles wtites #love at twilight #Kori #don’t worry baby boy you’ll get your chance to shine again #not next chapter but eventually #twilight princess #btw the Twili beast is not eating people ;)

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punkeropercyjackson · 4 months

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Why afrolatino Jason Todd works,an analysis by an irl afrolatina and thee Jason expert

His personality is EXTREMELY realistic for a black or latino and especially both man.He's cocky asf,a (multiple time!) mama's boy but mouths off to his dad with no hesitant and for fun even,respects women by seeing the female characters as either equals or above him,roughouses with his brothers,a big ass nerd since childhood and acts tough and invulnerable for the sake of looking cool but his heart's as big as his tits and a lot of his lines are so sappy in a poetic way i feel the need to avert my eyes when i see them to give him privacy

His pre-reboot Robin self reminds me of SEVERAL canon young black boy characters(Miles Morales,Oscar Pine,Zak Saturday and possibly more)

Duke is his favorite brother despite knowing him YEARS less than the other Batboys.Do i even need to say anything on this one

Every single woman he's been attracted to have been woc,those being Rose(half cambodian),Artemis(egyptian)and Dana(black).He dosen't like white girls <3

Further proof?He had KORIAND'R HERSELF throwing herself at him but showed active disenterest.For context:We're talking about post taking away her black-coding

Him growing up poor can be explained by being a second/third gen inmigrant making finding jobs hard for his family and to this day i remember when my history teacher called us 'a poor country' because of how much damage colonizers did here.Let me have this

The Joker killing him at 15 and him getting victim blamed and a bad rep despite what a good kid he was gains a new light if it's because he was a black child and so does him becoming Red Hood because of it.Also.Red HOOD.C'mon

The artist for Red Hood:Outlaws said he headcanons him as latino because he is and an iconic event a few years back was John Boyega clowning a racist on twitter by saying he wants to play Jason.Here's how the stars can align

African-American parents commonly give their kids greek names and the original Jason was a greek mythos hero!!

Let's be deeply serious,Jason would not have even HALF the gross fans he does if he was black.You think fanon onlys would be riding that hard for an afrolatino man seeking vengeance for himself with gray morality?They'd act like he's worse than Slade and the Joker combined and call him ugly nonstop💀Comics readers would have him all to ourselves with no weirdos getting their hands on him

Canonically almost entierly uniterested in casual relathionships,smoking or drinking so there's some stereotypes off the table

Selina,Babs and Kory have green eyes.They're all black in one way or another.Jason has green eyes.You understand

He's a classical literature nerd and latino lit is some of the best there is

Bombshells him is a spaniard and that's exactly the kind of move DC would pull with an actual latino character(the run released post the hc for him becoming popular)

Legoverse and webtoons made him a gamer.Hashtag cringefail black gamer dude realness

Something something the soft uwu black boy Robin is actually kid him and not Duke

Giving him a fridge ass build and a buzzcut in Gotham Knights was DC stereotyping(/BIG JOKE,PLEASE THERE'S ACTUAL REASONS IT'S SHIT)

Five words:Dominican horror folklore based tactics

Talia and his' mother-son relathionship is made all the more heartwarming and sad

Stephanie and i are the same person so she's black like me by extension and she's the only Batfam girl he really gets along with and imo this would also include Nell and Tiffany if the writers weren't fuckasses and went through with their actual good stories

Look up Aubrey Joseph vids.There's no better fancast for him out there not in looks but in personality

Trivia finale:His birthday is the same date as Dominican Restoration Day,red represents blood on our country's flag,at our schools we sell mini packets of neapolitan cream with mini spoons to eat them and his Lego movie is called 'Family Matters'

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shrutithemisfit · 1 year

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Dick's love for his kids 💙🖤💚

Dickkory calling out the shots as parents 💙💜

Mama Kory and Gar teamwork with Tim.

#dick grayson #gar logan #rachel roth #nightwing #raven #beast boy #titans #titans hbo max #dc titans #titans season 4 #tv: titans #titans season four #titans s4 #starfire #koriand'r #kory anders #dickkory

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yeetus-feetus · 3 months

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so I had this random idea.

You know how Jason helps kids in Crime Alley? What if he like save a tiny little baby but it's parents were killed and are currently bleeding out on the sidewalk and Jason is silently freaking out because what the fuck does he do with this baby. Look he's generally good with kids, but babies? Nope.

Let's say he goes to Dick for help (because he's not asking Bruce for anything) because this baby is screaming it fucking lungs out and Dick is obviously great with this baby because he already has a kid of his own (Mar'i). So Dick's able to calm the baby and shush it and makes all this stupid baby sounds at it until it's happy again.

And he's telling Jason he should adopt the kid, and Jason's like "no way. Not happening." Because his job is dangerous and he doesn't have time for a baby, even if it's a really cute baby and the Gotham foster system is absolute shit and he's worrying himself just thinking about leaving this defenseless little thing in the hands of just anyone.

But then Dick hands the baby back to Jason so he can duck out to get baby formula and, and Jason's shirtless now because his clothes were soaked with blood, and this tiny baby tries to fucking latch on to his tit😂 and Jason gets these wide eyes and just looks at Dick. "It thinks I'm it's mum, what do I do!?"

And Dick just grins. "Be it's mum dude" he laughs and dips out the window.

And Jason is left with this baby looking up at him with equally wide eyes. And it's kinda reminiscent of when he first met Damian during his time with the league, the way he stared up at Jason intently while he read to him.

And now Jason knows what to do.

When Dick gets back with enough baby things to last them at least a few days, he finds Jason reading Shakespeare to the little baby cradle against his chest. The baby is half asleep, like Jason's rumbly voice is sending it off to sleep, but it doesn't want to close it's eyes just yet, doesn't want to look away from it's new protector for even a second.

Because that's what Jason becomes, no matter how much he tries to deny at first, he ends up raising that kid. With lots of help from other heroes he actually trusts with the kid (Jason is the most overprotective mama bear you've ever seen. Not in a funny way, he actually gets really scary.)

This means Bruce doesn't even know about it. Like at all. Not for a long time at least. It also means Jason mellows out a bit and spends more time with Dick, Kory and Roy (the only ones he trusts to leave the kid with).

#Yeetus rambles #jason todd #dick grayson #crime alley #Mama Hood #red hood #accidental child acquisition

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dragonpyre · 1 year

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Secret Robin AU; I can imagine that the heroes who know about Bruce’s identity and home life have a bet going on about how Bruce might find out.

Barry+Wally; Thinks Bruce will run into a grandchild from the future who’ll just straight up call him an idiot for not figuring it out.(Based on their experience with Bart)

Hal+Kyle+Kory; Bruce runs into Robin with Batcow, and realize that it’s his son’s cow.(Kory: How many of the cows can one find with the bat branding?)

Diana+Donna+Cassie; Bruce runs a DNA test with a blood sample he got from one of them and sees that it matches his children’s.(Cassie; Pretty sure he’ll try to collect a DNA sample of ALL his kids., Donna; Including those vigilantes he “adopted”., Diana; He would do that…)

J’onn+Arthur+Oliver; Bruce sees Alfred ironing one of their costumes as if it were no big deal.(Oliver; You just know the old man would do something like that for his own amusement!)

Kara; Bruce realizing that Nightwing and Dick have the EXACT SAME BUTTCHEEKS.(Jon: Gross, that’s my best friend’s brother Kara!, Kara; Barbara said that his butt is one of his defining features!, Lois; She does have a point...)

Kent brothers; Completely expect one of them to get hurt by a villain, causing Bruce to go full “Daddy Bats” in response.(Conner: That’s if Selina doesn’t go “Mama Cat” first., Clark: I almost forgot about Selina!)

Connor when it actually happens (Jon learned a new word that day)

#secret robin au #ask

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bruciemilf · 2 years

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bestie how do u think the batfam reacts to wonderbat

- quinsly

*INHALES AGRESSIVELY* WONDER MOM WONDER MOM WONDER MOM-

Dick:

SO HAPPY for Bruce but constantly teases; " If his crippling control issues aren't a deal breaker, his music taste will be" and Diana just kinda tilts her head like a puppy in her MCR shirt and is like " I love them! They sound tragic"

Absolutely gives Diana tips and advice on how to woo Bruce; He's not sure how you can improve WONDER WOMAN, but he's flattered she thinks he's the man for the job

Just excited to brag to the titans, " Well, she's not KORI but you know; Not everyone's as lucky as me"

Jason:

HELLO?! HELLOOOOO? Jason is losing his mind obvi. He has no idea how Bruce pulled it off (He does know; His father is honest, quietly kind, brave in a way thats terrifying and stupid, and infuriatingly endearing. Plus he's big on justified violence, which women always find attractive)

Is. So so so shy around Diana at the beginning. Hiding behind Bruce or Alfred (even Dami, one time), not exchanging more than a few words (usually very quick and unintelligible) before running off

This leads to Diana thinking Jason doesn't like her and she wants to talk about this, because, young warrior my heart is with your father; I don't need your permission, but I'd like to know why you dislike me :(

Jason just pulls up his sleeve, shows his wonder woman tattoo with a blank face, says " I love you so much I had a crush on you since I was 6, but I want you to be my mom. Not mommy. That'd be weird." and power walks away, looking for the nearest highway

Finds his childhood slingshot and points it directly between Bruce's eyes " Make like Beyonce and put a ring on it"

Damian:

Respects Diana a lot but will always prefer Talia; Diana isn't bothered by that and finds Damians loyalty to his mama so adorable, " Good sons make good men ^_^ good job" "... please don't do that. You're giving me positive emotions and I'm not build for those."

Demands a duel for " The privilege to court my father. Woman or Goddess, you must prove your worth" but it's the equivalent of a puppy playing tag with an angry kitten

She takes him out for ice cream and he spills about Bruce being a sappy bastard when talking about her sjsjsjs

Tim, Cass,Duke, and Steph

Tim and Steph making " you can do better" jokes @ Diana but no one's allowed to agree; I feel like Steph is just as much of a fangirl as Jason is and she fainted when she found Diana in their kitchen, watching Bruce make pancakes, OBVIOUSLY a " we spent the night together" breakfast

Tim and Diana bond over sharing embarassing Bruce stories and I NEED Diana to be the old lady who can't figure out technology

Can she punch a crater in the middle of new York and make you sweat with merely dissaproving look? Yes. Does she need to call Tim everytime to change her profile picture and look for stuff on YouTube? Yes

Diana and Duke PUPPY FRIENDSHIP! Diana reassuring Duke that she knows what alienation and loneliness feels like, and it's not a pain he has to deal with on his own

" You're enough; You've always been enough. And your father and family love you dearly, - you're the light that keeps us out of darkness. Be proud of that"

Cass and Diana but it's the " when you're a queen and you meet another queen and you talk about battle strategies" meme <333 legends recognise legends

Cass thinks she's the coolest ever, but, " What you do to him? I do to you." Without a hint of fear; There's a collective agreement around the ground. Diana smiles. She'll fit in just okay

#I LOOOOOVE WONDERBAT I LOVE WONDERBAT I LOVE-#wonderbat #bruce x diana #bruce wayne #batman #batdad #batmom #batfam #batfamily #diana prince #dick grayson #jason todd #dc #dc comics #asks #headcanons #writing

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lovibitchez · 10 months

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I'd like to thank @nocturnalchaos for their kind review of this story. It actually made me go back and fix a few things I disliked about this and they helped me find my will to write again. So, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You really did help me through some hard times. Also, I have yet to edit it, so I do apologize for any errors. I wrote this at work on my phone.

2 years ago…

"What do you want from me, Rae!" Jason yelled from outside the door of Raven's room in the tower. Even if he wasn't technically on the hero side, Dick trusted his brother enough to be in the tower.

"The truth!" Raven yelled, leaning against the door to prevent Jason from trying to pry his way in. She would use her powers, but she couldn’t quiet trust them at the moment. Jason and Raven had been…. somewhat dating for the past few months. Well, not dating. Sleeping together. They were good friends at first, but after Raven came banging on the door to his apartment with tears in her eyes and a broken heart, they had been a little closer than usual.

"You want the truth! Yes! I slept with Rose! But it was before we started our little escapade!" He was frustrated. It all started with a stupid tabloid about Jason, son of Bruce Wayne, being seen with a blonde beauty with one eye at a bar. "Last week, that was business! She had intel on a drug ring I've been looking for. I don't know why you're so pissed. We aren't even dating!"

Raven opened her door a small crack just to see the frustration on Jason's face. His hair was a mess from constantly running his hands through it to keep calm and his eyes were almost overflowing with the pit. "How would you feel if you saw me with someone else?"

Jason froze, "Why would I care? It's your life."

Wrong answer. Raven gave him a bone-chilling look before taking a deep breath, "Goodbye, Jason Todd." She shut her door before teleporting out of the tower. That was the last time Jason saw Raven.

Four months later, the Titans were no more. Budget cuts in Jump City and the Justice League taking over, it made it impossible for the Titans to stay around. The Titans were all given identities, and some were given Halo-Rings to look more human.

Dick moved to Blüdhaven where he continued to be Nightwing and Detective Richard "Dick" Grayson with his new wife Kori as she continued her freelance modeling career. Victor mainly worked at the watchtower, being a member of the Justice League, but when he was back on Earth, he worked at an auto body shop dating Karen, otherwise known as Bumble Bee. Garfield was in college working on his veterinary license. And Raven? She disappeared. Not having a life on Earth before the Titans, she only had her fake identity and a GED she established before the team disbanded.

No one knows where she went, or if she was even on Earth still.

Until today…

Red Hood was notorious for keeping companies ensured. Some were small local businesses that paid him in food and a safe place to hide out while others were large clubs that paid him well to keep the ruffians and cops out. Tonight was one of those nights.

“Mama’s House” was a strip club that also worked as an underground Hen House. The girls were instructed to keep a sense of anonymity while in the club while servicing clients.

Jason was always impressed by the look and size of the club. Red velvet walls adorned with White silk curtains as decorations. The three stages separated by two rounded bars in between. For an illegal business, the place had some class. All but the owner. Oscar Danny. A large bearded man who required his girls to call him “Big Daddy”. It wouldn’t surprise Jason if he often sampled his girls, but that was Oscar’s business.

Or, it was. Jason sat at the bar, waiting for Oscar to get out of his “meeting” with one of his girls and decided to have a drink and a look around. After grabbing his old fashion, he walked over to the main stage where his heart almost stopped.

She looked different. Long jet-black hair, pale pink skin, and bright blue eyes. But he could recognize her anywhere. The way her body rolled against the pole, how she teased her hair when she was dancing like no one was watching. He watched her drop to her knees with her legs spread.

She rolled her hips to the rhythm of the music, stirring something deeply hidden within Jason. Yes, last but something more. It was like seeing an oasis after being stranded in the desert for weeks without water. She was a refreshing sight for his dark world. She always was. But he fucked it up.

He felt the pit surface as he watched. Her hips faltered for a moment so brief, Jason thought he blinked. But he couldn’t look away. Watching her do the things they used to do in private, put on display for dozens of men. The pit was bubbling in his eyes and he feared what he might do if she didn’t stop.

As if some deity heard his prayers, the music ended and she quickly sauntered off the stage. Jason’s feet moved before his brain could tell them to. His vision was blurred, all but her.

______________________________________________________________________________

Raven felt his presence the second those heavily tinted doors opened. She had hopped he wouldn’t recognized her. She looked different. She looked normal.

Raven stood on stage, the spotlight almost blinding. Her soul self snuck into the shadows, following Jason around the club until he was up close to the stage.

She probably didn’t need to use her powers. It’s kind of hard to miss a tall man in a red hood. But she needed to know why he was here. Was Jason looking for her? How did he find her? Why is he in his hero gear if he wanted to talk to her? Does he know? Raven’s blood ran cold at the thought.

Soon, the song ended and she quickly left the stage. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed into the back. Not yet. She had to walk the floor and accept request.

She left the stage only to run into Jason.

“Act natural” she thought to herself. Raven lifted her head to speak but no words came out. She stood there, looking up at him, desperately trying to stay calm. But it was hard for a multitude of reasons. His emotions swirled around like a storm. His anger was palpable. Like a dish coated in pepper. Yet, there was something sweet under it all. Something not like lust but it left the same taste in her mouth all the same.

“Excuse me,” She squeaked, her voice betraying her confident demeanor.

“Raven.” He breathed her name out like it was a prayer. As if seeing her was the only thing that has ever mattered to him. And maybe it was. Maybe he regrets what he said. Or maybe he was here for another reason.

“I-“ Raven took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep up her façade around him. “Who?” she asked fainting innocence.

Jason let a deep breath out through his nose before speaking, “Raven, I-“

“Mr. Hood!” a thick Boston accent broke his gaze, “good to see you again! It’s been months!”

“Oscar.” Jason quite honestly couldn’t stand the man. The only reason he was willing to insure this place was for the girls.

“Did I finally get a girl you’d like?” he laughed, “how ‘bout you two go upstairs. Free of charge, of course.”

“But-“ Raven chimed in.

“I don’t want to hear it. Mr. Hoods been good to us! He deserves to let off some steam.”

“You know what?” Jason said, never taking his eyes off the small woman, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Oscar smiled brightly, “she’s a hot one isn’t she.”

“She’s something alright.” Jason turned from Raven and followed Oscar up the spiraling staircase.

Raven took in a sharp breath and followed behind at a distance. Oscar had led them to the farthest room from the stairs. Raven took a deep breath as she stepped into the velvet covered room. Raven always hated the design in these rooms. Red velvet lined the walls and coated the floor. The round silk covered bed sat in the center of the room. Everything was littered with hearts. Neon hearts hung on the wall, heart shaped lamps and even a heart shaped chair sat in a small corner next to a heart shaped corner table. This room cost more than her apartment yet it looked so cheap.

Jason stood at the foot of the bed, watching Raven’s every move. She stood by the door with her head held high. She was here physically but her eyes were clouded with thoughts of being anywhere else.

“You treat him good, girlie.” Oscar huffed, “If I get one more complaint about you, you’re out of here. I don’t care about your little “situation”.” Raven only nodded at him, not trusting her voice. Oscar turned to Jason, “Just bring her back in one piece,” he winked before leaving and shutting the door.

Jason watched Raven, unsure of what to say. Raven was on the verge of a panic attack. Her chest rose with every deep breath and her legs faltered as she stepped closer to Jason. Jason took a step closer, reaching an arm out to grab the shaking woman.

“Raven,” he sighed. His arm wrapped around her stomach as he brought her in for a deep hug. Jason leaned his head on Ravens, taking in her scent. Even through the hood he can smell the lilacs in her hair and the old parchment she was often fond of reading. It was her and there was no doubt about that. “Fuck I’ve missed you.”

A part of her wanted to sink into his arms like she had before. But the part of her that he hurt wanted to push him away. To tell him to get out of her life and to never come near her again. Raven stood shocked for a moment before carefully prying out of his grip.

“I-I’m sorry.” She whispered, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lie rolled off her tongue so easily. As if she had practiced for the moment for months.

“Cut the shit, Sunshine,” Jason growled out. He took off his hood and placed it on the bed. “You may be in disguise but I can always tell if its you.” He took a step closer and she moved back. “What are you doing in a place like this?”

Raven’s eyes never left Jason’s. His eyes had turned a dark shade of green as the pit spilled out. He was on the verge of chaos and Raven knew she had to calm him down. But something inside her seemed to snap.

“I could be asking you the same thing,” she growled back. “I thought you were done being the bad guy.”

Jason crossed his arms, thankful she finally dropped the act, “I collect insurance from those who need it. That’s all.”

She scoffed, “like a common thug.”

“Hey, I’m helping people. Not shaking my ass for every Tom, Dick, and Harry that pays me to!”

Raven was taken aback by his comment. The hurt she felt all those years ago bubbled up and fueled her rage, “Well I’m sorry I don’t have daddy’s bank account to fall back on!”

Jason growled, pushing Raven against the wall, “And this was the only option? Honestly, Raven, I thought you were better than this.”

“And I thought you were more understanding.” She glared at him. “Wasn’t your mother a stripper?”

“And now she’s dead.” Jason breathed out. Jason felt like Raven had just driven a knife into his chest and twisted it. Bringing Bruce into this was one thing, but his mother? She knew damn well that was a sore spot for him. “She was desperate!”

“And I’m not?” She scowled, “You honestly think I would work here if I had a choice!”

Jason took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging pit inside him, “You could have asked for help.”

“From whom, Jason? The Titans? They’re long gone! And the Justice League would never-“

“You could have asked me!”

Raven couldn’t help it. The laugh that came out of her was cold and humorless, but a laugh, nonetheless. “Right, let me just call up the asshole that-“ She stopped herself before she could continue the thought.

“That what? Left you? Hurt you?” He ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, “Shit, Sunshine. I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I just didn’t know what was going on.”

“Bullshit!” She hissed, “You knew damn well how I felt about you and acted like it was no big deal!”

“I know, okay! I fucked up but please, just talk to me! Let me make it up to you!”

“No,” She shook her head, “This isn’t something you could just make up for Jason. We can’t just go back.”

“Then we shouldn’t.” He stepped closer, watching to see if Raven would move away. He sighed with relief when she didn’t. “Let’s go forward. Let me help you. I can-“

“It’s not that simple, Jason.” Raven held herself as she looked at her feet, “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you that day.” Jason stood still as Raven searched for the right words to say, “I was…” she paused, finding it almost impossible to speak. “I have, you have,”

“If you can’t say it, then don’t. Just, don’t disappear again.” Jason reached out to Raven, carefully bringing her into another hug. “Shit, Little Bird, I looked everywhere for you.”

“You did?” She squeaked, sinking into his arms.

“I fucked up the second I said that to you. I am so sorry.” He held her tight. For the first time since that day, Jason felt at ease. He always did when Raven was in his arms.

“Jason, we-“

There was a knock at the door and Raven could hear crying. She quickly pulled herself out of his grip and rushed to the door. When she opened it, a large woman carrying a crying baby stood there with a look of irritation.

“Finally. She hasn’t stopped crying for the last twenty minutes and it’s starting to piss me off.”

“She must have missed a feeding,” Raven’s voice was soft as she picked up the child, “Shh, I’ve got you,” She cooed.

Jason stood where Raven had left him. A thousand things were running through his head. Whose kid was that? Raven’s? Who’s the father? Was it his? Was it a clients? Jason saw red for a moment. The thought of Raven being in that situation, being used and tossed to the side, being alone with someone’s child. Had she been doing this alone?

The woman took a quick peak into the room and scoffed, “Didn’t know you were with someone.”

“I can take her from here. Thanks Sister Anna.” The woman scoffed and walked off, leaving Raven with her daughter.

“I-“ She held her daughter close in her arms, “This is Lillian.”

“Is she?”

“Yes.” Raven answered, hushing the frail child in her arms. “Um, do you mind if I?” She gestures to the bed. Jason said nothing. He moved slightly to the side and gestured for her to sit.

Raven took cautious steps towards the bed to sit and removing her bikini top. Lillian wasted no time latching onto Ravens nipple.

“How old is she?” Jason asked, watching the baby drink from her mother.

“Fifteen months, I think.” Raven sighed, “Jason, this is your daughter. She’s why I was so desperate.” She looked up at Jason, tears threatening to spill out. “I shouldn’t have kept her from you. I’m so sorry.”

Jason examined the child. She was almost a carbon copy of Raven. She had Raven’s nose, pale skin, and jet-black hair. If it wasn’t for her teal eyes, Jason wouldn’t have believed her.

“I have a daughter.” He whispered. “She’s,” Jason couldn’t find the words to say. His vision started to blur and he could feel his nose drip. Was he crying? Jason never cried. “She’s perfect.” He choked out. Raven turned away from him, bringing her attention back to the baby in her arms. Lillian had slowly stopped suckling on Raven’s breast, her eyelids heavy.

Jason bent down to Raven’s level, holding out his hands, “Can I?” he asked, gesturing to the half-asleep child. Raven hesitated for a moment before carefully handing Lillian over to her father. Jason carefully held her in his arms. Lillian was staring up at him with groggy eyes. There was a small smile on the baby’s lips. Jason let out a weak sob as he held her close, “Hi,” he whispered, “I’m a dad.” Jason wasn’t sure how to feel. He was a dad. He never thought it was possible.

“I didn’t think you could have kids.”

“I didn’t think I could either.” She admitted, “I’m a half demon and demons already struggle with fertility. But when we go into heat, it becomes possible for full blooded demons.”

Jason thought back to their time together. Throughout their time together, Raven had been in heat once. Jason remembers that week fondly. The way Raven had begged for him. The way she couldn’t hold back her moans when he was inside her. If Jason could, he would go back to those days. He would do things right. He would have told her how he felt the day she came to his door in tears.

“Let me be in her life.” He begged.

“Jason,” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t mean to hide her from you for song long. I was hurt and scared. Everything just fell apart so fast.”

“I know. I can’t fix what I said, but please, just let me have a chance. I can’t lose you again.”

Raven wiped the tears from her face and nodded, “I can’t keep you away from her.”

Jason chuckled and nodded, “Can’t keep me away from either of you.”

Raven looked at the time, “Shit,” She mumbled, “I have to get back out there.”

“Wait,” Jason grabbed her arm, “Come home with me. Both of you.”

Raven thought for a moment than shook her head, “I don’t know if I can trust you yet.”

“Raven, please. I can’t let you keep working here.”

“Why would you care? It’s my life.” She stated coldly, repeating the words he told her that day.

“Raven,”

“I need to take Lily back to the daycare and I need to pay rent.” She carefully to Lillian from her father. “Come find me after my shift. We need to talk logistics.” Jason said nothing, he only nodded and stood up. He put his hood back on and followed her out the door.

It was two in the morning when Jason stood in the alley, chain smoking his second pack in the last hour.

“Dude, you gotta quit it with the smoking.” Roy chastised him, “She’ll be coming out soon. I hope.” Roy rubbed his hands together for warmth. It was freezing outside. The snow fell heavily on the streets just like it always did during the winter in Gotham. Roy was never one for the cold but Jason never seemed to care.

“I’ll stop when I see her.” Jason bit back, his nerves frayed from the earlier interaction. He was a father. No matter how many times he said it to himself, it still didn’t feel real. But she felt real. She was so small and so soft. Jason wanted to see her again. To hold Lillian in his arms just to remind himself that she’s real. That he has a child.

The back door to the club squeaked open and Raven came out holding Lillian bundled in a thick jacket and a blanket. Raven on the other hand, was in a pair of pants and a coat that looked like it had been worn one too many times.

“Sorry, it took me longer to get out than expected.” She held Lily close and walked over to Jason. There was a slight limp to her walk, one that Jason hadn’t noticed before.

“You okay, Sunshine?” He asked. Raven cursed herself under her breath. Of course Jason would notice a limp. After all, the world’s greatest detective trained him.

“Yeah,” She said a little too quickly, “I tripped earlier.”

“Another lie,” he thought, but chose to let it go.

“Raven!” Roy jumped out, giving the young woman a bear hug. “It’s been way to long!”

“Roy,” Raven gave her old friend a soft smile, one that made Jason’s heart drop. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And this must be Lillian,” Roy looked down at the baby asleep in her mother’s arms, “She’s adorable! Looks just like her mama.” He smiled brightly at her and Raven couldn’t help but return his smile in kind.

Jason walked over to the pair and held out his arms, “I’ll carry her.” Raven reluctantly handed her daughter to Jason who happily took her and wrapped her in his arms. Jason smiled down at the little girl, moving a strand of hair from her forehead. “We’ll take you home. That way we can talk in private.”

“I live just up the street.” She responded, walking ahead of them. They walked in silence, no one knowing what to say. Jason kept on peeking down at the baby in his arms, still unable to believe she was real.

“She’s a quiet baby.” Raven stated.

“She’s so small,” he whispered.

“I do what I can to keep her fed,” Raven snapped, not looking back at her ex-lover.

Jason winced, “That’s not what I meant.”

“So,” Roy cut in “How long have you been working for Oscar?”

“Just a few months. The diner I used to work at went out of business.”

“Such is the life of a Gothamite.” Roy chuckled. Jason couldn’t be more thankful that Roy was there. He kept the conversation lively and prevented any lingering hostilities between the two. That is until they reached the apartment complex Raven was living in.

Raven didn’t have to use her powers to feel their shock. Raven knew damn well how shitty her apartment was. The gray paint was chipping off the side of the building and there was a hole in the center of the roof. Luckily, Raven’s apartment was on the opposite side of the building to where the hole was. But that didn’t make the place anymore drafty.

She took out her key and unlocked the door. She entered her apartment and turned on the lights. Jason’s heart sank. The carpet had stains that must have been set years ago and the walls were covered in cracks. What relived Jason was the furniture. Ravens small living room had a small old gray couch and a tv. The floor was littered with toys and there was a large baby blanket. Her kitchen had an old stove and a small fried. The microwave had a dial instead of buttons and her coffee machine had seen better days.

“It’s no tower, but it’s better than the street,” Raven chimed in. She walked over to Jason and held out her hands. “Let me put her down then we can talk.”

“Let me,” Roy walked over, carefully taking Lillian from her father, “I’ll keep an eye on her while you talk.” Raven was about to protest when Roy spoke again, “I’ll call if she needs anything.” Roy held the sleeping baby in his and softly cooed, “hey, Lily. I’m your uncle Roy.”

Raven let out a soft sigh and waved Jason to follow her into a small room. Jason looked around her small room. The bed laid on the floor covered in blankets with a crib sitting next to it. There was a small dresser by the window and the closet was missing its door.

Jason looked back to the bed then up at Raven, “guessing the heater’s broke?”

Raven tugged her jacket closer to her chest and glared, “we’re serving, Jason. Lily gets fed and I’m making rent.”

“I’m not judging you, Raven,” he huffed, “I know you’re doing what you can I just wish you would have told me.”

“And what would you have done if I did?”

“I would have stayed.”

“Bullshit.” Raven hissed.

“Why are you so pissed at me? I’m not the one who hid our child from me!”

“I didn’t hide her!”

“Right, sorry. You didn’t hide her, you just never got around to telling me!” Jason took a step forward and Raven stepped back, wincing. “Your hurt.”

“I’m fi-“

“Don’t-“ Jason took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm that’s been brewing for hours, “don’t lie to me. Not anymore tonight.”

His voice came out so soft Raven could have sworn he was begging her. She looked away, trying to find any distraction from her own swirling emotions. “I can heal myself.”

“Then why haven’t you done it yet?”

Raven couldn’t hide from him anymore. The last two years have been hell. Hoping from job to job just to keep food on the table and debt collectors away. Her eyes burned with unscheduled tears and her legs felt ready to give out. She leaned against the wall, trying her damndest to keep the tears from flowing.

“I’ve gotten weaker,” she admitted. Jason took a cautious step closer, ready to grab Raven. They spent too much time together for Jason to not recognize when she was ready to collapse.

“Do you know what caused it?”

She shook her head, “my minds been a mess since I left the tower. And having a baby doesn’t really give me room to meditate or take care of myself.”

“Well I’m here now.” Jason took another cautious step towards Raven l, wrapping his arms around her and letting her fall into him. Jason missed her soft touch more than he realized. Having her in his arms again was a constant dream to him. “Let me help. If not for you, than for Lillian.” Raven let out a weak sob and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Her legs shook too much to keep her up, she slid to the floor with Jason still clinging to her for dear life. Her whole body shook with the force of her unshed tears.

After a few minutes of muffled sobs, Raven had regained enough composure to continue. “What happened, Sunshine?” The softness in his voice had almost brought her back to tears, but she managed to push them down.

“Oscar,” she whispered, “he got upset that Lily interrupted us and he thought you left mad about it.”

“So he hurt you?”

“I could have been worse than just a twisted ankle.” She mumbled

Jason saw red. How could he not? The woman he’s been searching for and the mother of his child was in a dangerous situation. He held Raven tight and carefully lifted the ankle of her pants. Her alkies heel was purple and had started to swell.

“I tripped.” She repeated her statement from earlier, “I technically didn’t lie.”

“But how did you trip?” He gently grabbed Ravens chin, inspecting her face and neck for any markings.

“You won’t find anything. My powers may have weakened, but I can still heal small bruises.”

“so he hit you.” He didn’t state it as a question. Son of the world’s greatest detective, he could figure it out from just the little information she gave him. Oscar got mad, hit her and she tripped in her heels. “Raven,”

“I know,” she cut him off, removing her but I needed the money.”

“I know.” He sighed. There was an awkward pause before either spoke. “Listen, I know I can’t convince you to quit or rely on me until you can get a different job, but please. Let me help.”

“Okay,” Raven conceded, “for Lily.”

“For Lily,” He repeated, “and a bit for you.”

She chuckled, “if it helps you sleep at night, sure.” Jason felt his heart skip a beat. The sound of her laugh was a rare treat to hear. He missed it probably more than he thought was rational. But he missed everything about her.

“I should put Lily to bed, I have to work tomorrow.” Raven carefully stood, Jason helping her.

“With that ankle?”

“I have to pay rent somehow.”

“But-“ Jason cut himself off. He knew damn well telling Raven what to do was a pointless fight. “okay. I’ll be picking Lily up tomorrow before you head out.”

Raven froze for a moment, unsure of what to say, “is your place baby proof?”

“yeah. We still have a bunch of Lians old baby stuff. I’ll put it together before I pick her up.”

She nodded, “okay.”

“I’ll be here around noon?” she nodded, opening the door to Roy holding a sleeping Lillian.

“She was an angel,” Roy smiled, handing the sleeping baby back to her mother.

“Thank you, Roy,” she held Lilian close and looked up at Jason, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he looked down at his daughter, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lily” he whispered, gently patting her head.

Raven watched the men leave. She let out a shaky breath when she was finally alone with her daughter. “Well, I guess you will have your dad in your life.” The baby cooed in her sleep, cuddling into her mother’s chest. “Let’s get you to bed.” Raven carried her to bed carefully putting her in the old crib. She carefully put a blanket over the top of the crib, giver her daughter enough space to breath.

Raven quickly got ready for bed, wrapping her ankle before crawling into her bed and passing out. By tomorrow, her ankle should be healed, but Raven still remained cautious.

_______________________________

Jason walked down the sidewalk, Roy following close behind with a smile on his face. "So..." Roy said, elbowing his friend, "How does it feel to be a dad?"

"I'm not sure," Jason hummed, his face scrunched in a look of thought, "I'm angry Rae hid it, but I guess I'm... happy?" He sighed, "I'm not sure. I'm probably going to fuck it up like my folks did. Or worse, like Bruce."

Roy scoffed, "Please! You should learn from it! Plus, I think Raven is a good mom. Did you see how she held her! Man, if Jade acted like that towards Lian, I'd-" There was a swift kick to Roys' ribs, making him fall to his knees, "Noted," he groaned.

"You should know not to say shit like that."

"why?" The archer huffed, getting off the ground, "you've never cared when I've talked like that before? Is it because of-" There was another kick. But not to his ribs, Roy cupped his groin as he fell to the floor, trying to breathe, "Noted." He squeaked, voice higher than normal.

"Say one more word, and I'll make sure you can't have another kid." Jason snarled, the pit almost overflowing, which seemed like the running theme tonight. Roy shut up as they walked the rest of the way home in silence.

#jayrae #jason todd #teentitans #raven teen titans #batfam #dc comics #roy harper

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