#i am not a gloating person by any means
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Wait wait okay so Mineru's ability is she can seperate her soul from her body and put that soul in something else. I believe in game she calls it her spirit but soul is like the same thing. Also spirit sounds more 'mystical' and soul might have religious context to it? Whatever. The stones amplify the holders already present power, not giving them 'new' ones, meaning she already had some power relating to spirit magic.
Two questions.
One, what was the extent of her power BEFORE she got the stone? In the scene she describes it as the stone gave her the ability to take her soul out of her body, not like she always had the ability to do that.
Two, if she can do that, why couldn't she separate Ganon's spirit from his body as a way to stall for time or temporarily stop his rampage?
It still doesn't make sense to me that Rarau, the light guy, was able to put Ganon in a stasis when Sonia's thing was time. Thou with Ganon killing Sonia and stealing her stone that couldn't be done. But it felt like, a kinda crappy way to go about that. The whole scene felt, not planned well. It felt like a first draft they went with instead of really dissecting the possibilities and making a more compelling and imo, more 'logical makes sense' of a story. If Sonia wasn't used as a sacrificial lamb for the story, SHE could have used her time powers to stall+stasis Ganon. She could have used her time powers to stall the malice infecting Link's arm, slowing it but never fully able to stop it due to her weakened power from keeping a lock on Ganon all these years and giving us the same reason to get the orbs to purify Link's arm.
This could also serve as a mirror back to Zelda's plight from BotW, stalling the big bad (she wasn't using time powers but still) but her power waning, unable to fully end it, just slow it down. Fighting the same foe, failing, and stalling, relying on the hero to finish business.
However, I feel like part of the reason Rarau was chosen to stop Ganon and give Link his arm was that he's Zonai, he's new, and the developers wanted to push that rather than the ancient Hylians. After all they did give us *too much of the Zonai and also still not enough. Even thou Rarau ends up playing such a small part in Link's encounters and is like, never seen again after the tutorial area then once more at the very anti climatic ending for Zelda.
Incase you couldn't tell, I have NOT finished the game, I probably never will and I've only spent 45 hours on it then never picked it up. 5 of those hours was spent on the tutorial sky island (I messed up so badly my first time that I *had to start over). I have also not seen many ending scenes so maybe there was a legit reason Mineru couldn't trap Ganon's soul but with the crappy writing of this game, I wouldn't be surprised if it was some dumb reason.
#Legend of Zelda#Tears of the Kingdom#TotK#LoZ#LoZ:TotK#not ac#every day I get closer to wanting to post my Courage Lost au#which starts at BotW but extends to TotK#and would be my own personal rewrite for TotK#like my god the potential was right there but the devolpers fucked it up#im no game dev by any means but I do like to write#Ive made my own universes with an expanded timeline#dark themes that touch on real life aspects#i make sure my scenarios are plausible#I triple+ check that my chars act in charecter and if they dont then there would be a legit reason for it#like I make sure it makes sense its compelling it drives the plot and inst focused on events alone but how those characters-#forward the plot by their actions and lack of action#Im not saying Im a pro Im prob still an amatuer#but I genuinely feel like I could have done a better job with TotK's writing than a bajillion dollar company#i am not a gloating person by any means#I just font like seeing a DIRECT SEQUEL to a game I liked get such shitty treatment
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my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 3.
aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.
When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.
And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.
warnings. smut! loss of virginity, fingering, riding, creampie
wc. 16k+
01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09
––––
The private library in Maegor’s Holdfast is Prince Aemond Targaryen’s favored spot for solitude and peace. It is the one place away from all the noise, gossip, and politics in the castle; and he often finds himself there, reading whatever book catches his eye that day or quietly contemplating by the fireplace. The only person that keeps him company there is his sister, Princess Helaena, but that only happens once every blue moon. So it is usually only him and Snowball – a stray cat he had claim as his own only a year ago, finding the little fellow near the docks of Blackwater Bay and taking pity since he thought the cat to be a mirror of himself, with it’s pure white fur and one eye blinded from a street fight with another stray – and he likes it that way.
So why, oh why, is his usual peace in the private library being demolished when today is the final day he can have some time by himself before the festivities of his siblings’ wedding begins?
“This is going to be the worst week of my life!”
Aemond’s facial features slightly twitch in annoyance, but chooses to ignore his older brother, continuing to read the text he has in front of him. Or at least, trying to – Aegon has been whining for over half an hour already, and it is really hard to focus when a big man child is crying into your ear.
“So many beautiful women from all around Westeros have been arriving into the city, all so they can witness me marry my strange, little sister!” Aegon bemoans, actual tears falling from his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair. Aemond rolls his own, thinking about how Helaena is the one given the short end of the stick in the deal. “It is so unfair!”
“Now imagine how our dear sister is faring with this,” Daeron says with a snicker at his place by the window, scratching under the chin of the small cat he has tucked in his arm. “I highly doubt she is any more ecstatic at the prospect of marrying you than you are.”
Aemond grins at his little brother, adding on, “And I would even propose she has it worse.”
Daeron laughs hard, head knocking back, which could only mean he is in agreement. It has Aegon’s jaw dropping, looking between his two younger brothers, “How can you two be so cruel when I am already in distress?” Then he turns to Daeron, “Is this what they taught you in Oldtown? To disrespect your older brother?”
Daeron shrugs, throwing him a boyish grin, and Aegon heaves a bothered sigh as he slumps against the chair he is sitting on.
“You know,” Daeron begins, “I’m surprised our mother and grandfather even allowed you to put it off for so long. You and Helaena have been betrothed for nearly a decade.”
“And every single day I prayed to the Sevens that our mother would change her mind…” Aegon grumbles petulantly.
Aemond closes the book he has in his hands – clearly unable to read anymore – and tells him, “And each and every one of those prayers were completely useless. An annulment was never going to happen. Your marriage with Helaena is not only a way for our Targaryen bloodline and your inheritance to the throne to stay strong, but also so our mother would not have to agree to a betrothal between our sister and one of our bastard nephews. It is why mother sent an olive branch to our half-sister and rogue uncle and invited them to the wedding. It is purely just to gloat to Rhaenyra that she did not get what she wanted.”
Aegon rolls his eyes at Aemond – already knowing all that himself – and mutters angrily under his breath, “I detest this fucking political bullshit.”
Daeron shrugs again, returning to showering Snowball with affection. Their youngest brother is probably happy that he is a ward and squire of their uncle, Lord Ormund Hightower, over in Oldtown instead of being around here with all the drama.
Aemond, on the other hand, does not mind the intrigue of the court. Sometimes, he can even say he enjoys it. Besides, as heirs of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and his brothers should at least be knowledgeable on the affairs of the land that their father rules over – whether they like it or not.
“I know what you two can do to make it up to me!” Aegon perks up suddenly, obviously over talking about the previous topic. Grinning mischievously, he leans forwards on the table in front of him and whispers to two in the room, as if the walls had ears, “Tonight… We’ll all sneak out… Have ourselves a little party all throughout the Streets of Silk in my honor…” He lifts his brows a few times, “Huh, how ‘bout it, brothers?” Then he smirks at Aemond, “You had fun the last time, didn’t you?”
Aemond grimaces while Daeron questions in disbelief, “You actually went with him?!”
“Once,” Aemond answers, then sharply glares at his older brother. “And never again.”
Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes, once again slumping in his seat as he mutters, “What a bore.”
“Wow…” Daeron awes, walking towards Aemond and gently drops the cat in front of him, Snowball purring as soon as Aemond starts scratching near his ear. Daeron pushes aside the book Aemond had been reading and lifts himself to sit on the table. “I did not think you are one to let him coerce you to do anything, especially his stupid ideas… I’m a bit disappointed, Aemond.”
Daeron is obviously teasing, but Aemond shoots him a glare anyway.
Aegon is beaming again, amused, and laughs too. Truly a hurricane of different emotions – probably the wedding jitters.
“Hey, if it were not for my coercing and “stupid ideas”, Aemond would not have met that girl he is over the moon for,” Aegon says, still laughing. “The Northern bitch he is always writing his gay, little love letters—Eurgh!”
Aemond suddenly has him by the collar, cutting off his airway by how tight his younger brother’s grip is. The rage in Aemond is palpable, especially given how close their faces are, it’s clear to see. Aemond is seething when he spits out in Aegon’s reddening face, “I will have your tongue if you dare utter anything like that ever again, I don’t care. She is a lady of House Mormont and you will put respect on her name, or I’ll cut off your cock along with your tongue. Then we shall see if you will be having any fun on the Streets of Silk anytime soon.”
“Brothers, brothers…” Daeron tries to put himself between his two older brothers, pressing against their chest to push the trembling Aegon away from the furious Aemond. “As much as I think it is deserved, I do not wish to witness the heart attack that both our mother and father will have when they find out that their dear oldest son has been maimed and circumcised just days before his wedding.”
That has Aemond loosening his grip, letting Aegon fall back down unceremoniously on the chair. With his father’s deteriorating health, Aemond did not want to be the one to cause him more pain.
He sits back down too, trying to calm down as he ignores Aegon murmuring under his breath, “The Mormonts are hardly a house.”
“But tell me, what is the story there? Why did you fly North that day?” Daeron curiously asks, so used to his older brothers’ fighting that it does not even phase him. “You never did tell us.”
“Well, you see…” Aegon grins, still rubbing at the soreness around his neck before he starts the story. Aemond shuts his eye, choosing to drown his idiotic brother out to recall the time he told you himself.
It was when he visited during the third anniversary of the night he had landed on Bear Island, the snow on the ground in abundance but not as bad as that first time. The two of you were trudging through it, hands clasped together to prevent the other from falling. Although the two of you were falling behind the group of woodcutters that you, Aemond, and your brothers were helping out to gather firewood for the upcoming week, in case a snowstorm hits. It had been a long day, both of you tired but happy of the hard work you had done. As the sun started setting, Aemond turned to you and questioned, “Have I ever told you why I ended up here all those years ago?”
As you kept walking side-by-side with your best friend, you shook your head. “No… but I have been curious. King’s Landing is awfully far from Bear Island.”
Aemond heaved a sigh, stopping at his track and it made you stop too, your hand still in his. He eyed you hard, a serious look on his face. “I’ll tell you if you promise you won’t laugh at me.”
Facing him, you took his other gloved hand, holding both now, and just as seriously as he was, you said, “I promise.”
“My older brother he…” Aemond took a breath, and you squeezed his hand in comfort, knowing every story he told about his older brother does not end well. He gave you a small grateful smile, before he started again, “Well, first of all, we were reading this story book — about different creatures, and the horrible things they do — and then we got to the story about giants. It absolutely terrified me and it caused me to have nightmares for days after that… Then he found out I–” His mouth snapped shut, frowning, “A serving girl told him what I had done, and he began to make fun of me. I tried to act brave and say it was a lie but he saw right through me. So he dared me to fly up North, go beyond the Wall, find a giant and bring him back the head. If I did not, I was a coward and he would tell everyone what I had done…”
Aemond’s lips were trembling when he finished the story, his eye was wet. Frowning, you reached up, tugging the corner of his mouth up with your thumb. “Your brother is the stupidest, dumbest, most idiotic person I know.”
Aemond laughed through his sniffling. “You’ve never met him.”
“I don’t have to. I just know,” you told him with a shrug.
Aemond smiled at that. “But doesn’t that make me even more of an idiot for trying to prove him wrong?”
You thought about it for a second, lips pursing to the side, then answered plain and simple, “Yes.”
His mouth dropped, and with a teasing, toothy grin you added, “But at least you met me.”
He was about to retort, but karma got you first, in a way of a snowball to your face by your brother, Jorah. You screeched as you wiped away the freezing ice covering your face, then screamed at the boy who was laughing, far ahead the two of you, “This is why Renee doesn’t fancy you!”
Thus started the Great Snowball War of Bear Island, the one that you and Aemond lost horribly.
Aemond huffs out a soft chuckle fondly at the memory, almost missing when his older brother says your name and continues with, “I actually cannot wait to meet her soon and see what all the fuss is about.”
Aemond snaps his attention on him. “What?”
“Your little Lady Mormont,” Aegon says so slowly, dragging each syllable like Aemond is dense. “She should be arriving in the city right now, with all the other Northern Houses.”
Aemond’s head shakes, disbelieving. “What are you talking about? House Mormont are never invited to these things. Believe me, I’ve tried before.”
“Yeah, well, when you are the oldest son of the King, what you want, you get,” Aegon says with a cocky shrug. But as Aemond continues to glare at him, calling his bluff, he sighs. “I asked our mother to invite them to the wedding. Told her it would be… nice, to do this for you. Since you have not seen her in years. I saw her write the invitation and everything. There is even already a chamber in Maegor’s Holdfast ready for her arrival.”
Aemond knows his brother well enough to know when he is lying or not, and so he abruptly stands, running to the door. As soon as he has it open with a swift kick of his pointed black leather boots, he takes off, Daeron watching with grand amusement and Aegon shouting after him, “You’re welcome, by the way!”
---
The small hall is already crowded to the brim when Aemond gets there. The new arrivals from the North easy to spot with their heavy clothing not suited for the southern weather. Among them, he sees someone familiar that has him smiling wide as he stride his long legs over to her.
“Lady Dorothea!” He calls out, and she turns around to face him with a smile of her own. Aemond had already had the pleasure of greeting your sister during her arrival a couple days ago with her Lord-Husband, Tobias Tully of Riverrun. He stands beside her now. Aemond bows his head towards him, “Lord Tobias.”
“My Prince,” they both answer back in respect.
“Did you know your sister is coming here as well?” Aemond asks Dorothea, which has her smile falling, confusing the prince.
“I–” Dorothea starts, but then sighs and smacks her palm lightly against her temple. “How did you find out?” It has Aemond frowning this time, unsure of the reaction. Then Dorothea chuckles. “My sister wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh… My brother told me. Just now, actually.”
“She’s going to kill him,” Dorothea murmurs in a low voice that only her husband and Aemond could hear. Aemond’s lips start tugging up into a smile, and even more when Dorothea further explains, “My sister, she was looking forward to just… spring up on you. She even wrote this… Really long and foolhardy letter to your Lady Mother, her Grace, about why she wanted to keep it a secret and begged your mother to keep it a secret as well. Imagine that? Asking the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to go along with your childish plans for… I don’t even know what,” Dorothea shares a laugh with the two men at her side, sighing at the thought of you. “Ah, my beloved little sister… How I do love her so…”
Aemond can’t help but chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Do you know when she’ll arrive?”
Dorothea exchanges a look with her husband, then tells the prince, “She’s already here, my Prince.” The news has him sucking in a breath, his gaze already searching around again. “I have yet to see her, but I’ve already met with my father just a bit ago. He is taking their possessions to the two chambers they’ve been graciously given, and my sister… Well, I would hope you know her enough to know exactly where she is.”
A secret smile is shared with him, and in an instant, Aemond knows precisely what your sister meant.
---
Unlike the usual stoic and aloof prince that the staff of the Red Keep are used to, they are passed by a hurried yet bright-eyed Prince Aemond. There is an out of the ordinary grin gracing his face, so handsome that as he weaves through the mingling guests, he turns the heads of every pretty woman he passes by, hoping to gain his attention with a bat of their eyelashes. But he does not even notice, not when his own eye is searching around for the one face he is longing to see.
As Aemond takes the now very familiar cobblestoned path to the Godswood, he catches sight of his twin cousins, Baela and Rhaena Velaryon, giggling together by the wisteria archways leading to one of the many gardens on the castle grounds. This could only mean that his bastard nephews are also running amok the Keep as well, but not even that can ruin his day… Because how can this day ever get ruined when as soon as he steps his foot onto the dirt ground of the Godswood, he has to suddenly stop short to catch his breath and calm his rapidly beating heart?
Clutching a hand over his chest, he feels that he has to. Like if he does not try to protect it, his yearning heart will shoot out of his body to lay itself down for the heavenly being in the lilac dress who is staring up at the great oak Heart Tree of the Godswood.
Although right in front of him, Aemond is still in disbelief.
Is it truly you?
He has dreamt of this a million times before – you, here, at his home, with him – but now that it is actually happening, he cannot even fathom it to be true.
Aemond watches as your eyelids flutter shut, a gentle smile on your face.
He wonders what you pray to your Gods for. All his visits to the Sept ends with him praying for your wellbeing and happiness – and more selfishly, for you to return his feelings. He used to pray for a taste of the crown on his head, but now he just wants you by his side, always — so is it really that bad?
The Targaryen Prince waits, giving you peace for your private moment, and only makes his move once your eyes flutter open. He keeps his footsteps light, so light that you are none the wiser he is by your side until he makes himself known, close enough that when he whispers your name, he can see the shiver going down your spine in delight.
Spinning towards him, you murmur his name just as tenderly as he said yours. It makes his heart ache; remembering how long it has been since he has heard your voice, seen your smile, and felt that feeling when you looked at him – like he is someone that can be revered and loved.
Then suddenly, your face is crumpling in mixture of a laugh and a cry, standing on the tip of your toes to throw your arms around him.
It catches him by surprise. But it seems he is not the only one — because just as he is about to return the gesture, you are springing back and away from him.
“I’m terribly sorry, I forget myself,” you apologize as you glance around, your cheeks burning up with embarrassment at your display in front of the many others that came to greet the Old Gods after their long travel – and towards a prince . They are probably wondering why a girl from such a small and insignificant house thinks she is so familiar with the prince to even dare look him in the eye, let alone touch him. How you didn’t even address him with his title as well. At that thought, you dip your head down and murmur, “My prince.”
You feel fingers grazing under your chin, gently coaxing you to tilt your head up. You are met with Prince Aemond’s soft gaze and a warm smile on his lips. He is breathtaking, and you can only think about how pretty he is. You stare at him in awe, lashes fluttering as your eyes take in all his beauty so greedily, tucking in the image of him in every corner of your mind for safekeeping.
Before you can even form any thought other than that, his arms are wrapping around you. So tightly that you could not jump away if you wanted to like last time.
You stand there frozen in place, feeling the curious stares of everyone around on you and your Prince. You can hear murmurings — whispers of his name, wondering who you are, and what the two of you are to each other. It should have you worried, how it might appear improper and scandalous in some way… But if your best friend did not care for their gossiping, then why should you?
So you let go of the worry.
You press your face against his chest, breathing him in as you hold him just as closely as he is holding you.
It felt so nice and right that the two of you stood there like that for what seemed like hours.
In reality, only minutes passed — and although still long, when the two of you did part, it truly did not seem enough.
“This is unfair… I wanted to be the one to surprise you, not the other way around!” You tell him with a playful pout, hoping it will hide the secret yearning in your heart.
Aemond’s perfectly straight and beautifully long silver hair swishes elegantly when his body shakes with laughter. “I’m afraid my older brother sold you out.”
“Your older brother… Prince Aegon?! How did he…?”
“He was the one to suggest to our mother to invite your family to the wedding.”
Your mouth drops in shock and it makes the corners of Aemond’s own tug up in a grin. “Believe me, I was surprised by his out of character thoughtfulness as much as you are.”
“Well if it were not for that and the fact that he is to be married soon, I would have had his tongue–” You catch yourself and glance around, hoping no one heard your treasonous thoughts uttered out loud. Luckily, no one did.
Aemond laughs again. It has been a while since he has laughed this much and he knows it is because of you. He always seems to be full of merriment whenever you are around. “Funny that, I had the same exact thought earlier.”
You share a smile with him, standing there and just happily basking in each other’s presence.
“It’s been too long…” Aemond says. Slow and carefully, he reaches a hand towards you, placing it on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”
You suck in a breath as you allow him, emboldening the prince. He has you glancing down to follow the way his thumb gingerly brushes across your collarbone, gentle yet firm. A familiar feeling of heat toils deep in your lower belly, one you have come to know whenever you have thoughts of Aemond when you are alone in the privacy of your bedchamber. You look up at him from your lowered lashes, “I’ve missed you too.”
As you stare into his eye, you can not help but remember how you would slip your hand under your covers, your unpracticed fingers in between your thighs as you sigh his name into your pillow. It is burning you up to be thinking of something so impure in front of the Prince — if you only knew he has had his own fair share of sleepless nights doing the same.
Aemond lets himself be selfish for a couple more moments, trailing his palm across and down your shoulder before he clasps his hands together behind his back. If he did any more than that, he knew he would have done something unbecoming for a Prince.
“It seems you intend to stay true to your family nickname…" he says then, full of mirth. "You are still but a little cub.”
You gasp, appalled. “I’ve grown!”
Aemond hums with a teasing smirk.
You straighten up your posture even more, holding your head up high, trying to convince him. “I have!”
His answer remains the same, a hum, and the infuriating (and begrudgingly – charming ) smirk still on his lips.
“It’s not my fault you grew so freakishly so, with your long, spider-like legs,” you grumble. And it is true. The last time you had seen him, he was only an inch or two taller than you. Now he has at least a foot over you. So much has changed, especially when the first time you met him, you were the taller one.
Aemond can not help but be amused at the petulant look on your face and repeats out loud your use of ‘long, spider-like leg’ in disbelief. He licks his lips as the smirk turns into a beaming smile.
“I apologize, my lady,” Aemond says, dipping his head in mock apology. “May I make it up to you by showing you around the Keep?”
Then he is holding his arm out for you to take. You narrow your gaze at him for a long second, letting him sweat. You notice the way he takes a hard swallow and thus, becoming satisfied.
Sighing dramatically, you lock your arm around his elbow, your hand holding onto his bicep, sticking close by his side. “I suppose that is the least you can do.”
--
Aemond is a very thorough tour guide. For every place he shows you, he tells you about the long history of it and the most significant events that happened there. If it were anyone else, you would surely be bored. But since it is Aemond, he has your rapt attention. Besides, it overjoyed you to finally be able to put a place for all the stories that Aemond has told you over the years.
The prince takes you everywhere in the Red Keep – the Sept, the White Sword Tower, the Maidenvault, the Great Hall, the rookery, the training yard, the private library, and all the other places that are not off limits.
He saves the dragon pit for last, being the furthest from the Keep.
“How are you feeling about the wedding?” You ask him, curious to know. You and the prince are still arm in arm as he leads you there, not at all in a rush and enjoying the leisurely walk.
Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. “It has been a long time coming. They’ve been betrothed since even before we’ve met. I think I’ve already come to terms with it.”
“Do you find it strange that your siblings are getting married?”
Aemond takes a moment before he answers, “I pity my sister, if that is what you are asking… But if it is because they are of the same blood… Well, I’ve told you about my many ancestors before, how they often married their own family to keep our bloodline pure for our legacy and to control dragons… And I must admit, there was even a time I had wanted for Helaena to have been betrothed to me instead—” He feels you stiffen slightly at his confession, “— Not that I felt anything romantically towards her in any way, but for duty and our birthright. And perhaps even to save my sister from the cruelty of our older brother. But now though…” he trails off, giving you a sidelong glance, “I am glad that the duty did not fall on me.”
You do not notice or feel his stare, deep in your thoughts and humming in contemplation at what Aemond just told you. Then finally, you say, “I could never picture myself marrying any of my brothers.”
Not only do you physically cringe, but the grimace of disgust that twists your features has Aemond laughing so heartily.
“Good,” he says plainly, after his laughter lets up. Then he clears his throat before asking, “And what of other suitors? Surely you have many…”
You snort at the notion, very unladylike. “You think too highly of me, my Prince. I have none at all… Although I do think that they are all too scared of my older brothers to even try to court me.”
“Good,” he says once again. You look up towards him and see he is staring straight ahead, a satisfied smirk on his face. You want to ask him what has him grinning like a cat who got the cream, but before you get the chance to, Aemond turns to you and announces, “We’re here, my lady.”
You look at the building you are approaching in awe, the immense structure with the dome-like roof unlike anything you have seen before. You truly are not on Bear Island anymore.
Aemond leads you inside, once again a walking history book. As you take in the information, you clutch onto him a little bit tighter when he takes you down into the dungeons. Though brave, you are not stupid, and you knew if you were to stray away from Aemond, there is only one dragon there loyal to the prince – the others would not be as kind. So you and Aemond pass by the others without giving them much attention, only catching glimpses of them. All of them big and mighty, and yet not nearly as immense or as ferocious as the dragon you have come to be so fond of.
Finally, you make it to the largest holding area of the dungeon, the mighty beast inside laying down, resting.
“I took her for a long flight just this morning,” Aemond tells you with a smile. Then he parts from you, striding to the dragon first. Vhagar perks up when she hears him call her name, though only lifting up her head minutely. He stands beside her, murmurs something in High Valyrian, and then turns his heel to look towards you. Folding his arms behind his back, he waits.
Now both their attention are on you. Cautiously, you approach the she-dragon, not knowing if she remembers you or not. She huffs hot air through her nostrils as you get closer, but does not move, only her pupils following you. When you make it to the prince’s side, he gives you a nod of encouragement.
You reach out your hand, softly grazing the scales on Vhagar’s snout. Immediately, the she-dragon starts to rumble. Her eyes shut, basking in your touch and purrs even louder, happy.
You exchange a joyful laugh with the prince. Aemond places his hand on his dragon just beside yours and leans to whisper hotly in your ear, “It seems I am not the only one who missed you dearly.”
You can not help but burst inside with happiness.
--
For the next couple of days, you and the prince try to spend every waking hour together. Since the attention is mostly on Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena, Aemond had less commitments he had to attend to, leaving him with more free time than he has had the past three years. But he does get pulled away from you sometimes. Like this morning, after breaking fast together at the garden pavilion overlooking the ocean, leaving you with his sister, Princess Helaena.
You did not mind one bit, you quite enjoyed the princess’ company. Her eccentricities remind you a lot of your brother, Jorah — who chose to stay home with Braeden and your mother.
Like Jorah, Helaena talks your ear off about various subjects you are not familiar with. It is as if they think that if they know it, you know it as well. Still, you try to understand, asking questions when you see fit. It does not make things any more clear, but they seem to enjoy it all the same, and it makes you happy to indulge them with their special interest.
But when you do find yourself understanding what Helaena says, you notice that the princess has quite a funny side to her. Her jokes are very understated but intelligent, and when it hits, she has you laughing out loud. Even the dutiful royal guard following closely behind you and the princess cannot help but chuckle a bit.
The princess is so sweet and lovely, and it makes you all the more sad that in just a couple hours, she will be forced to marry her crude older brother.
You have only had the displeasure of being in Prince Aegon’s presence once – and thank the Old Gods, it was a very brief encounter because that was more than enough. Your skin still crawls in remembrance of his crass words towards you and the way he looked at you like you were merely just a piece of meat. He was lucky that he was pulled away to meet with some important Lord, because if it were not his brother, Aemond, to punch his lights out – holding back, with the knuckles of his fists whitening at his sides – it would have been your brother, Forrest, who also heard the Targaryen Prince.
“What are you thinking of, enkelitsos?”
You snap out of your thoughts, turning to Princess Helaena with a smile.
“Hmm…? Oh, it is nothing…” You say, then you tilt your head at her. “What does that mean, by the way?”
“Enkelitsos?” When you nod, Helaena poses another question, “My brother has not told you?”
“No, he calls me it often yet keeps me in the dark.”
Helaena giggles into her hand that is not wrapped around your arm, then looks up at the clear sky, seeming faraway from you now. “When my brother disappeared that winter day all those years ago… I had a dream that he fell and met an enkelitsos, surrounded by shrouds of snow. When your father wrote us that first raven from Bear Island, I did not even know where my brother ended up, but I asked my father to send Aemond back my note asking if he has met the enkelitsos,” she looks towards you now, a peaceful look softening her face, “He wrote me back that he had.”
Then like her brother, that is all she gives to you, and you are still no closer to figuring out what that Valyrian word even means. You can guess, sure, but you would rather not. So once again you are just hoping it means something good rather than bad.
---
On the walk with the princess, the two of you somehow ended up at the training yard.
It is bustling there. The air is heavy with the stench of sweat and grime. All of the men busy with practicing for the upcoming tournament later at noon, in celebration of the wedding taking place right after.
You catch sight of Forrest surrounded by four men, always the life of the party as his boisterous laugh and vibrant way of speaking enraptures their attention. There is a silver-haired fellow with your brother that could only be the coloring of someone of Valyrian blood, but his back is turned towards you to know who for sure. You know it’s not Aemond – for you know the sight of your prince’s back better than you know the back of your own hand – and it is certainly not Helaena’s husband-to-be. He stands tall and regal; reminiscent of Aemond, but not Aemond.
Could it be Aemond’s younger brother, Prince Daeron?
You had not have the chance to meet the youngest and most loved prince. He had been savoring his time in King’s Landing with old friends he left behind for Oldtown, poised to head back with his uncle directly after the wedding feast.
Forrest then spies you from over the man’s shoulder, mouth spreading in a wide grin and jovially waving. “Little cub!”
It has the silver-haired man turning around, and you see it is not the younger prince at all. This one is older than Aemond and even Prince Aegon, with roguish good looks.
This has to be the King’s younger brother and Aemond’s uncle — the rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen.
He follows behind your brother and Willam Stark, with two dark-haired boys in tow. The sly smirk that graces his face as he regards you and Princess Helaena has your companion pressing against your side closer.
“The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue,” the Princess murmurs beside you.
You turn to her, confused. “What was that, my princess?”
Helaena shakes her head, just as Forrest steps up in front of the both of you.
“Princess Helaena,” Forrest bows so deep, his knee hits the ground. “Your presence must be the reason for this beautiful, clear sky.”
Though you roll your eyes, you are grateful that Forrest has a certain effect on people as you feel Helaena relax beside you. She even giggles, offering your brother a playful curtsy of her own.
“Aye, get up. Before they make you the jester for the feast tonight,” Willam Stark chides, lightly kicking Forrest’s bum.
Forrest stands, brushing off the dirt on his back and knee while throwing Willam a cheeky grin. “Doubt they will make the winner of the tourney the jester.”
It was Willam’s turn to roll his eyes, not bothering to give Forrest a satisfaction of a reply for his cocky statement. Instead, Willam turns to Helaena and offers a well mannered bow, “My princess.”
Then to you, he takes you in a short yet tender hug. You squeeze him tight. For how long you’ve known Willam Stark – the younger brother of the Head of House Stark, Cregan Stark – and how close he is to your two oldest brothers, he is like family to you now too.
“I’m glad your travels went well, my lady,” Willam says after the two of you parted.
“I’m sorry yours did not go as smoothly, Willam,” you say, frowning. The Starks just arrived a day ago when they were supposed to arrive even earlier than your family. A brawl at an inn they had stayed at, Forrest told you last night after he helped the Stark men settle in. “At least you are here now, and safe. My brother was absolutely miserable without you.”
“Do not stroke his already huge ego, little cub.”
Both you and Willam snap at him a, “You’re one to talk.” and a “Says you?” – respectively.
Forrest frowns deeply in mock hurt, just as someone comes in for his defence, “Even from the little I’ve seen Lord Forrest fight, I think his ego is deserved.”
“How you flatter me so, Prince Daemon,” Forrest says with a bright smile, making space for said prince and the other two behind him to join your little circle.
So it is him, you think to yourself as Daemon’s eyes find yours, a mischievous twinkle in them. From the little Aemond has talked about him, Aemond seems to respect the rogue prince as equally as he did not like him — both highly.
You are not one to let others’ opinion form yours (except maybe when it is towards Prince Aegon) but when you give Prince Daemon a once over, you cannot stop the scowl from forming on your face. Because when you look down, what you see wrapped around Daemon’s grip is an all too familiar sword, a bear head crafted of silver signifying House Mormont at the pommel. You glare at his hand, like the heat of it will make him drop the precious sword so you can catch it. But fire cannot burn a dragon, and so you chose to glare daggers into his eyes instead.
If Daemon is confused or startled by the fire in your eyes, he does not let it show, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.
“I should give this back to you, Lord Forrest,” Prince Daemon says, handing over the Valyrian steel sword that had been in your family for generations back to your brother. “It is something treasured that should not be touched just by anyone.” He winks your way as he teases, “Isn’t that right, Lady Mormont?”
As you watch Forrest slide the sword back into its sheath by his side, you say with narrowed eyes now directed at your brother, “When Braeden passed over his inheritance of Longclaw over to you, he entrusted you not to just hand it over to anyone, all willy nilly… Even if it is towards a prince.”
Forrest huffs, clearly embarrassed to be scolded by his little sister in front of a group of people he respects. “Oh, come off it, little sister. Prince Daemon was merely looking. He has a Valyrian steel sword of his own, he does not need mine.”
Daemon chuckles. “You never know. Perhaps I may need it in the future.”
You glare at him again, not quite sure if he is joking or not. Forrest, on the other hand, takes it as a playful jest and laughs foolishly.
Once again, Helaena murmurs so quietly the strange phrase she had said before. The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue. Daemon overhears, titling his head in confusion at the young princess.
“How rude of me. My darling niece, I've not even greeted you — and on your wedding day,” Daemon says, taking Princess Helaena’s hand and places a dainty kiss on it. “Please forgive me.”
“It is alright, kepus,” Princess Helaena forgives, but she says it to the ground and is quick to snatch her hand away.
That is when you feel the weight of someone’s stare, and when you look, you lock eyes with the taller of the boys beside Prince Daemon. He jolts, his face turning red as he looks away – at the sky, the others around, the ground, everywhere, but on you.
He is quite handsome. You feel your cheeks heating up as well. You are not used to male attention, so when you get it, you do not know how to act. You wonder which House he is from–
“I hope today treats you well, Princess Helaena,” the younger and smaller of the two dark-haired boys says.
Helaena smiles, genuinely this time. “Thank you, Lucerys.”
That has you stilling, hearing the name. The boy looks so sweet, so young, so innocent, and yet… and yet..
“I also hope the same, princess,” the older one says to Helaena, and she nods sweetly to him. Then he takes a breath, puffs out his chest, and then turns to you with a boyish smile. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Mormont. I am Jacaerys Velaryon, but those close to me call me Jace.”
You felt traitorous, finding attraction towards the man who had a hand in traumatizing your best friend – the person you secretly claim to love – and left him blind in one eye. Even more so when he offers you his hand and you take it without question.
Then, as he keeps his gaze on you from under his long and dark lashes, he brings your hand up slowly towards him, has you sucking in a breath as his lips—
An ironclad grip wraps itself around Jace’s wrist, freezing you both in place before his mouth can touch your skin. You glance to your side and gasp, meeting Aemond’s furious face, nostrils flared and mouth pulled back in a sneer. His glare is not on you, but on his nephew, and yet, you feel just as ashamed.
“He was just introducing himself, nephew,” Daemon says with a huffy laugh. “No need to get your smallclothes in a twist.”
If Aemond heard him, he does not show — choosing to tighten his grip harder, making Jace wince in pain as he drops your hand.
Aemond does not take his eye off Jace when he grabs for your hand and wraps an arm around his sister. “Come, my mother is looking for Helaena.”
Then he takes the two of you away, the stares of the men left behind burning your back.
--
After taking Princess Helaena back to her solar to get ready for the festivities of the day, Aemond whisks you away to the private library he calls his own. The whole time though, he did not speak one word to you, fuming and brooding to himself.
And in this room, where the two of you are alone, he keeps it up. Still fuming and brooding as he stands by the hearth, staring at the fire he had just kindled.
You watch him from where you are sat on the floor, back against the wall and the cat you had helped name sleeping peacefully on your lap. Having had enough of the silent treatment, you thump the back of your head against the wall and say out loud, “You’re angry with me.”
The silence is even more deafening now that you tried to break it. Aemond lets it simmer for a while. Then finally he answers, clipped and short in tone, “No.”
He cannot even look your way when he says it. So how are you supposed to feel?
You are about to voice out this concern but then Aemond starts speaking again, “I’m angry with myself… for letting them get so close to you.” The fist he has clenched on his side hits the wall suddenly, startling you. “His filthy mouth almost touched you!”
It makes you frown, this side of the Targaryen prince. You don’t see it often, but when you do, it scares you sometimes. “Aemond, you’re being ridiculous. He was just being respectful.”
Aemond huffs out a mirthless laugh, finally turning towards you. “If you think he was doing that out of respect then you are more naive than I thought. Perhaps you are also blind to the many suitors I know you have, if that is the way you think.” He grins sardonically, aiming to be cruel and mean. “Although I did not think you would be one to fall to your feet for the lackluster charms of bastard boys.”
You hold his gaze, yours getting blurry with tears. Though before he can get the satisfaction of seeing a tear fall, you look down, threading your fingers through Snowball’s soft fur to help with your feelings of hurt. “That was mean, Aemond.”
Towards me and your nephews , you wanted to say. You know that Aemond has very valid reasons for his hatred towards his nephews, but you remember what your father had said before — holding a grudge leaves nothing but more pain in its wake, poisoning your own soul . It was a lesson for Jorah and Forrest, after another tiff between them, but it stuck to you too.
But you hate the way your voice had trembled when you spoke earlier, so you let it lay in your mind.
You hear Aemond sigh, then there is a shadow falling over you. You look up just as he starts to bend down, both knees on the ground to level with you. His face sullen, and sorry.
“I…” He takes a swallow, looking down at his hands he had on his lap. “I apologize deeply… for snapping at you when you did not deserve any heat of my ire. And for whisking you away in here without even asking… If you want to leave and go to the tourney instead, I will not stop you.”
You press your lips together, head shaking. Snowball is blinking up at you, awaking from his slumber, stretching his limbs in a yawn before curling up again, purring loud. You start to stroke his fur again as you tell Aemond, “I am content right here.”
“Are you sure? I’m sure Forrest would want you there, cheering for him.”
Smiling, you hum, “I’m sure he does… But I’ve spent my life watching him train all the time. It has become a bore. I do hope he wins though… he is determined to prove to Willam that he is the better warrior out of them…” You sigh, chuckling to yourself. “Those two are always butting heads… and swords.”
Aemond huffs out a laugh, smiling at each other, as if sharing a silent secret.
Then you take his hands from his lap, holding it in yours. It forces him to gaze into your eyes, his own violet eye sheepish. It is that soft look of his that has you confessing straight from your heart, “I did not come to King’s Landing for a tourney, or a wedding, or anything or anyone else.. I came to King's Landing for you, Aemond Targaryen. My best friend.”
Then you pull one hand away from him to pat the floor beside you, inviting him to sit with you.
“And I intend to spend all my time here with you, whether you like it or not.”
Aemond exhales a shuddering breath, as if he had been holding it the whole while you were speaking, then nods before he crawls and takes his place by your side, his hand still holding yours.
From your other side, you pick up a book on the floor, the one you had picked out earlier from a shelf when he was all taciturn and morose, and hand it over to him.
His eye widens as he recognizes the cover, “This is…”
You grin at him. It is his favorite book. One that he talked to you about often but could have never brought to Bear Island because of how big and heavy it was. He had told you many times over the years that once you visit him, he will read it for you, over and over again, until you have it memorized, until you are sick of it. So…
You lean close to him, whispering so soft yet he feels the tickle of your breath on his lips, “Can you read for me, Aemond?”
Aemond wets his lips, glancing from your pretty mouth to your big doe eyes, not knowing he had been leaning closer and closer with every passing second. Just when you were about to flutter your eyelids close, Aemond catches himself and moves back, smiles your way, tender and true.
Although a bit disappointed, he has you humming sweetly as you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder and pulls you tight towards him, getting comfortable in each other's company — like the two of you are little kids again in the common room of Mormont Keep – and he opens the book and reads.
--
It was impossible for Aemond to not lose track of time when your head is on his shoulder, your light laughter and clever commentary like music in his ears, and your heartbeat beating like one with his, lulling him deeper and deeper in that dreamland you two had created in the privacy of that library.
As the sun outside starts to set, the fire burning in the room gets brighter and brighter — but it is Snowball’s whining for food that has Aemond realizing that it is late. Really late.
The tournament is surely over and the wedding—
Seven hells. The wedding.
Aemond shakes you, stirring you awake from the sleep you had just succumbed to moments ago. He feels awful for it, wishing he could just let you rest on his shoulder like he wants to, but he has a duty to perform. Always the good and honorable son.
You don’t protest or whine, grasping the situation quickly, and he takes your hand to pull you up, taking off with one another.
Luckily, the two of you manage to make it to the Great Hall in time.
You catch sight of your brother-in-law close to the back, towering over the other guests, and you easily weave through the many bodies to slip beside your sister, her grin wide and happy to see you as she pulls you close with her arm around your hips.
Aemond, though, strides confidently down the middle of the hall, no one the wiser that he is late with how sure he carries himself. Except for his older brother, already standing in his place and waiting for his bride-to-be (wiggling his brows at Aemond when the younger passes him by, slyly making a gesture with one hand making a circle with his fingers and the other has two straighten out, pushing them towards the other) and his mother (clearly disappointed in Aemond’s unusual tardiness and confused as to why he wasn’t wearing the formal clothes she had his chambermaids lay out for him) — both to which he ignores, to take his place beside his younger brother, Daeron.
It is good that Daeron knows the time and place when to tease, can gauge how people are feeling, and so he just grins placidly at Aemond, before both their attention towards the opening of the huge double door of the Great Hall, the wedding about to begin.
---
The wedding was beautiful. Well, as beautiful as a loveless marriage between two siblings could be. Aegon was completely out of it, not bothering to hide how bored and listless he was, and Helaena was meek and quiet when she repeated her vows.
As Aemond watches them walk back down the long hall together, he cannot help but feel pity – for the both of them.
Yes, Aegon may be a twat but it must be a terrible weight on his shoulder. That ever since he was young, this was what he was destined for, out of duty for his family and the crown. Perhaps it is the reason he grew up to be so horrible, why he drinks, why he is the way he is.
And Helaena – sweet and dear, Helaena – could have had a pick of anyone she wanted, but here she is, stuck with her rude and crass, older brother.
As the crowd starts to disperse, Aemond stands there, thinking about you. How you and him could have a wedding ceremony just like this when he finally tells you how he feels for you. It will be even more grand and gorgeous because that is what you deserve, and because he loves you.
Or… Would he also be forced into a political marriage, to create a stronger alliance with some House that would never feel like a family to him like yours have? Forced to wed someone he does not love, while you slip through his fingers, married to another?
He swallows the lump in his throat, shaking away the dreaded thought.
Aemond’s eye searches for you now, knowing one look at you will bring him back to the library, bring him back that peace of mind you and him created in there, away from all this. He thinks he spies you near the back, but he quickly loses sight of you in the masses of guests heading out the Great Hall to get ready for the celebratory feast.
Though before he can move to really look for you, his mother grabs his arm and leads him to the back doors of the Great Hall, chastising to get properly dressed. Aemond looks back over his shoulder and sees the hall almost completely empty. He frowns, guessing he’ll have to wait to see you again.
---
After the wedding ceremony, you head back to your guest chamber, the swarm of guests leaving the Great Hall did not allow you to do anything else. Your sister accompanies you so the two of you can get ready for the dinner celebration together.
Dorothea has you sitting at the vanity, brushing careful strokes into your hair, making it shiny and pretty for the night. Your eyes are closed, humming in content. You miss this, it is like when you were little girls. You’d put up more of a fight back then but now…
Opening your eyes, you place a hand over Dorothea’s, stopping her mid-brush to find your gaze through the looking glass in front of you. “Come back to Bear Island with us. It’s been awfully lonely without you around.”
Dorothea looks down, hiding her smile, putting the hairbrush down to start braiding your hair in the way the pretty ladies in King’s Landing do. “I never thought I’d hear this from you. You’ve always been closer to our brothers than with me.”
“That’s not true!” You protest, shaking your head. Dorothea tuts and forces you to still. “I may jest with them more, but you have always been my favorite.”
Dorothea chuckles at that. “You are awfully bold tonight.”
Pouting, you whine in a way that only a little sister can get away with, “Can’t a girl just say what is in her heart without being questioned so much so?”
“Then tell me… Have you told the prince how you felt about him?”
This time, it is you who looks away from Dorothea’s gaze through the mirror. “I did not come here to burden him with my feelings.”
Your sister sighs. “You will not be burdening him with your feelings. Don't you see the way he looks at you?”
You bite down at your lower lip, not sure what hurts more – how your sister is pulling your hair back so tight that your face stretches with it or the hollow feeling in your chest. “I do… but… you were at the wedding. The princess and prince hold no love for one another, not even familial love… And Aemond… he is also the son of the King of the Seven Kingdoms. In line for the Iron Throne… We— it’s not a match, the two of us. As much as I want it to be.”
Dorothea frowns, letting your hair free to walk around you to kneel in front of you. She takes you by the shoulders to make you look her in the eyes, properly this time. “Don’t say that, little cub.”
You sniff, holding back the incoming tears. “Our house… it’s… We’re not…” You lick your lips, trying again, “What will they gain from letting Aemond marry me?”
Dorothea squeezes your shoulders in reassurance, then says, “They will gain a wonderful daughter-in-law. One who is smart, and strong, and stupidly stubborn, but lovable nonetheless. One that adores their son so much and looks at him as if he puts the stars in the sky.”
You manage to smile at her words, albeit one that is watery and sad.
“I don’t think that is enough,” you whisper to her, voice trembling for the second time that day.
Dorothea purses her lips together. Her silence an admission that you may be right.
---
When it came time to head to the Queen’s Ballroom for the wedding feast, it is like you and your sister did not have that talk at all, laughing together as you walk hand-in-hand. Following behind you two are your Lord Father, Lord Grover Tully, and his two grandsons, Elmo Tully, and Dorothea’s husband, Tobias Tully.
You are so content with your sister’s company that you do notice all the handsome lords that make eyes at you when you pass them by. Instead, you are more entranced by the delicious food filling the many tables, taking your pick and then offering a piece to your sister and father whenever you find something so mouthwateringly good.
You were in the process of popping a stuffed olive into your mouth when someone chose to slide up behind, shouting your name and startling you to choke on the darn thing.
“You idiot,” Dorothea hisses at her twin brother as she pats on your back to aid dislodge the olive stuck in your throat.
“I’m sorry, I did not– Are you alright, little cub?!” Forrest exclaims with worry, smacking his palm on your back as well. Finally, you cough out the olive, and thank the Gods for Dorothea, as she slides a small plate in front of you – making the sticky and wet olive fall on it instead of in your hand.
While Dorothea berates her twin, Forrest keeps asking if you were really alright. You wave him off with a laugh.
“Are you sure? Really sure?”
“Yes, Forrest. I’m quite sure,” you say once more with a playful roll of your eyes.
“Good,” Forrest sighs. “I was quite worried… Also for the fact I didn’t see you at the Tourney.”
“I was… Elsewhere. But I heard you got second! Congratulations!”
Forrest pouts now. “Thank you, but… I wanted to ask for your favor. I had to settle for Dorothea’s and I think that is why I did not win.”
Dorothea glares at him and snaps, “I can hear you, you know?”
Forrest throws a cheeky grin her way that has her eyes rolling, turning her attention towards her husband instead.
“But are you sure you are alright?” Forrest asks as he takes a careful hold of your hands, voice low and firm so only the two of you can hear. “I’m asking seriously this time… That scene in the training yard with Ae and his nephews… I’ve never seen him like that before.”
You squeeze your brother’s hands reassuringly. “It is alright. He has apologized.”
Forrest hums, frowning, but takes your word for it. Then he straightens up, happy-go-lucky Forrest again. “Then will you join me to sup tonight? Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra asked me to their table. They were quite impressed with my skills at the tourney. And well…” He whispers the next part, a teasing smirk on his lips, “There is a certain Velaryon boy that was quite taken by you, and they want you to join them as well.”
Before you can even accept or refuse, Dorothea nudges Forrest aside to wrap her arm around yours, as if to claim you for the night. “Nuh-uh. Our sister is to sit with me and my Lord-Husband tonight,” then to you she asks giddily, “Do you remember Jeremy Strong? Ser Fallon Strong’s second youngest? Well, ever since you visited Riverrun for my wedding, he had been asking about you and well, before, with the whole… situation, I let him down easy. But now after our talk…”
“A Strong? Over a Velaryon Prince for our lovely sister?” Forrest scoffs quietly. “You are a terrible matchmaker, Thea.”
“Titles and Family Names should not matter. What matters is a good man. You should know that, dear Forrest, with all your canoodling with the Stark —”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you both–” Your father cuts in, smiling fondly at his children before standing at your side. “But our little cub and I have been formally invited to dine with the King and the Queen tonight… And that is an invitation we simply cannot refuse.”
Then without another word, your father takes you by the arm, leading you away from your siblings that are as dumbfounded as you are.
---
Aemond is running late again. So late, in fact, that his mother has Daeron knocking on his door to chaperone him to the feast.
It puts Aemond in a foul mood. Or perhaps, fouler than the one he was in before, when he was all alone in his bedchamber, stewing in dreadful thoughts about the future – the reason he is running late in the first place.
Aemond waves off Daeron in a way that could also be interpreted as a more polite way of Aemond flipping him off. The youngest prince just shrugs, and follows closely behind his older brother as they make their way to the ballroom together.
Aemond thought that maybe once they reach the ballroom that he’ll be free to mingle, be free to find you. But of course it cannot be that easy, because what they find when they arrive is Ser Criston, waiting for them near the entrance of the ballroom to lead them straight to the main table of the room.
With not many options on where to sit now that almost all the guests have taken a seat at a table, Aemond plops down on the chair beside his mother, all sulky and surly.
Aegon is to his right, takes one look at the One-Eyed Prince’s face and laughs, hard – clearly already in his cups. Aemond simply shifts his body slightly more to the left to ignore him.
Only two empty chairs remain at their table beside Prince Daeron, who is sitting directly across Aemond. At first, Aemond thought it would be for his half-sister and heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra, and her uncle-husband, Prince Daemon, but he spies them at another table with Rhaenyra’s bastard children, and Princess Rhaenys and her granddaughters. It was probably by his mother’s arrangement to not sit them at their table — if it were up to his father, they would be by his side. His mother – though petty at times – would rather not ruin her two beloved childrens’ wedding day and end it with another huge family feud.
So who would be sitting on those empty chairs? From looking around, Aemond sees all his immediate family already sat. Could it be for the twin knights, Ser Arryk and Erryk Cargyll, the former being the champion of the Tournament, or maybe –
Suddenly, the Queen rises, beaming with joy. “Our guest of honor! It is lovely to see you two!”
Aemond glances over to who his mother is speaking to and what he sees has his eye widening, body moving on its own as he is standing up too.
Because it is you, standing right there at the other side of the table beside your father, and looking like an absolute daydream in that dress — no, the dress, the one he gifted you for your sixteenth name day.
Aemond had often dreamt about you wearing the cream colored dress ever since he got a look at it – how lovely the color would look against your skin, the way your dainty collarbones and shoulders will be on display due to the off the shoulder sleeves, and the elegant way you would move around him in it.
But, as you often proved, dreams could never compare to the brilliant reality of you.
He can’t keep his eye off of you. You have completely stolen his breath away — and his heart, once again.
He can tell you were very nervous, with the way your fingers twist together in front of you. But then your eyes meet his and you are exhaling out air as you stand up a little straighter, more sure of yourself.
Aemond smiles to himself. It is nice to know that he gives you as much ease as you give him.
“Sorry for the tardiness, your Grace,” your father apologizes, bowing his head at the Queen and the King.
“It’s alright, Lord Mormont,” The Queen shakes off with a kind smile. “The invitation was quite last minute, so I thank you for gracing us with your presence.”
Then she puts a hand on Aemond’s arm, a gesture for him to stay put, before she rounds the table to greet you and your father.
Queen Alicent talks to your father first, thanking him once again for taking care and bringing back Aemond safely all those years ago, and for always welcoming him to your home. Then King Viserys pipes up from the seat over where the Queen had been, too weak to stand up to greet your father properly, but your father leans over the table to shake his hand, and they start to converse as if old and very close friends.
That has the Queen’s attention flicking to you, and she smiles at you in a way that seems like she is about to burst into tears. Then you are being pulled into her tight embrace.
“It is so wonderful to finally meet you,” the Queen says softly into your ear. “Thank you for being such a good friend to our dearest Aemond.”
Alicent pulls back, but her hands are now on your arms. “I have heard so many wonderful things about you.”
You glance down bashfully. “Thank you, your Grace. I heard many a great things about you too.”
Neither of you hear Aegon’s comment, “Well, of course. Aemond, the mommy’s boy,” or how said ‘mommy’s boy’ kicks his shin from underneath the table.
Alicent then looks you over. Even if her stare is anything but scrutinizing, you still felt very self-conscious. The Queen is the very definition of perfection, and you cannot help but think of all your flaws in that very moment. Is your hair all in place? Is there food stuck in your teeth? What will she think about that scar you have on your arm from sparring with Jorah when you were young?
“You are such a darling girl,” Queen Alicent declares. “So pretty…” She then gasps, “Is this the dress Aemond and I have gotten made for you?”
You nod in confirmation. “It is. Thank you graciously, your grace.”
Alicent sighs, head shaking as she smiles at you and squeezes your arms. “Lovely…”
Then she breaks away fully, gesturing at the empty chairs for you and your father, “Come, sit! Sit!”
And when you take a seat, that is when Aemond finally sits down too.
You share a smile with your best friend, before turning to your left to greet his younger brother. Prince Daeron gives you a handsome grin and takes your hand to shake. But before you can take your hand back, he leans in close and murmurs hotly in your ear, “I would kiss your hand, but I heard whispers about what my dear brother did earlier to our nephew… And I’d rather keep my head, no matter how absolutely divine you are.”
You are a flush when he pulls away, the youngest prince silently laughing to himself, and your prince at the other side of the table narrows his eye in question at the exchange.
The main course of the dinner arrives and soon the Queen’s Ballroom is alive with joyous laughter and utensils scraping on plates. You are slow to eat and drink, afraid if you are not careful, you will stain your pretty dress with something you cannot get off of it. This also means you are a lot more sober than anyone else around you – even Aemond, who does not drink much or often.
He is so relaxed and happy, often looking towards you with that sweet smile on his face.
From beside him, his mother seems quite tipsy as well. She is staring at you, her chin in the palm of her hand.
“I apologize, Lady Mormont, I can’t seem to stop myself from looking at you,” Queen Alicent confesses, head tilting with a sigh. “You look even more gorgeous than that stunning painting Aemond has of you in his –”
“Mother!” Aemond sharply barks, the tip of his ears immediately burning bright red.
Maybe you are not as sober as you thought, because, what?
“Painting…? What painting?” You ask, confused.
Alicent is silent now, realizing she had blurted out something her son did not want you to know.
“Oh, right! That one!” Aegon exclaims, as if suddenly remembering. “The one that Aemond surely jerks it—”
The oldest prince groans, doubling over. The one responsible does not look sorry at all but just miserable now, his fingers pressed to his temple.
Luckily for Aemond’s (and Aegon’s) life, your father had gotten up moments before to chat with Forrest at his table.
“It is quite life-like!” Princess Helaena gleefully adds on from beside her brother-husband. “It looks exactly like you!”
Befuddled even more, your brows crease closer together. You try to get your best friend’s attention to make things a bit clearer, “Aemond..?”
But the one-eyed Prince is so embarrassed that he refuses to acknowledge you — leaving you in turmoil for the rest of the dinner.
---
Even when the plates start getting cleared away, Aemond still does not say one word to you.
Prince Daeron tries to ease the tension, making small talk with you about things that his brother could easily input a thought or two in. But Aemond doesn’t take the bait, not even then Daeron kicks him from under the table.
Although Prince Daeron is quite nice to talk to, you still felt very out of place – especially with how Aemond is ignoring you.
Every passing second, your smile feels more and more forced – until you cannot do it anymore, choosing to stare at your hands on your lap instead, making yourself small.
Seeing you like that has Prince Daeron huffing and shaking his head at the stupidity of his brother, and he decides to take matters into his own hands. He stands then and turns towards you, “Lady Mormont, will you honour me with a dance?”
With his jaw clenching at the question posed, Aemond feels your gaze turning to him, but he keeps his steady on the wall. You stare at his profile for another moment or two, then resign yourself to the fact that you are not going to get anything out of him – maybe not even for the rest of the night. So with a tight smile, you take Prince Daeron’s hand. “Of course, my Prince.”
As the youngest prince leads you out to where the other guests are dancing, Prince Aegon laughs out loud when Aemond furiously inhales deeply. “Seven hells, you’re an idiot.”
And for once in his life, Aemond thinks that Aegon might be right.
---
Aemond is watching you now, once again cannot take his eye off of you.
How can he when you are laughing so prettily, smiling freely, spinning around and around, and enchanting everyone with every twirl of your dress?
But he can’t even bring himself to find a little bit of joy for your happiness, not when the ones giving it to you are the admirers after admirers asking for your hand to dance, tripping over themselves to have even a morsel of your precious time.
Aemond is wild with jealousy, seething as he has Ser Criston murmuring in his ear who each one was.
Lord Thorin Tyrell. Ser Jonas Lannister. Lord Thomas Vance. Lord Alwyn Swyft.
And the one who currently has his arms around you now, making you beam from ear to ear, is Lord Jeremy Strong .
It’s nauseating, but at least it is not that bastard, Jacaerys. He has noticed his nephew making eyes at you all night. But he might not be as daft as he looks because he keeps his distance. Maybe what happened that afternoon still burned in his mind.
Good, Aemond sneers in his head, glaring at where Jace leans against a bannister, moping.
That is when Aemond realizes he is doing the same pitiful thing.
Feeling sorry for himself as he lets others get what he wants. It’s pathetic.
Having had enough, Aemond stands and straightens out his cufflinks before stalking his way to you.
As he gets nearer, he overhears the conversation you are having with the Lord leading you around the dancefloor.
“I did not mean to offend you, Jeremy. If I had known you were the one that made the dish, I wouldn’t have—”
“Wouldn’t have… so blatantly said it was revolting in front of me?”
“That was not the word I used! I just said it was bad!”
“Well, if it pleases you to hear, my Lady… I, uh, have gotten better at it.”
“...Truly?”
“Don’t– Don’t look so doubtful! Maybe I can, um, show you some time, how does breakfast–”
Aemond has to refrain his eye from rolling. Instead, he takes an interjecting step towards the two of you, his looming presence intense enough to halt you completely from moving even an inch.
When your eyes round at him, he simply smirks. “Lady Mormont, I believe I am owed a dance.”
You glance at Lord Strong, smile apologetic as you take your hands off him, a faint thank you for the dance out of your lips.
Aemond does not even spare a single glance at your partner for the whole interaction, his eye only on you. He hears the Lord murmur a low my prince out of respect, but Aemond doesn’t acknowledge it, just overtakes the Lord’s place in front of you, placing his hands possessively on your hips.
Although you put your hands on Aemond’s arms – thus accepting his invitation to dance – your gaze follows the retreating back of your previous dancing partner, a frown worrying your features. Then your fierce glare is on him, “That was pretty rude of you, don’t you think, my Prince?”
He should be happy that’s what he got out of me after he dare thinks he could just court you so easily at my home, in front of me, Aemond thinks uncivilly , Vhagar is itching to burn something alive.
But it would be unwise to say all that out loud, so he just presses his mouth together and holds his chin up a little higher, as if to let you know that what he is going to say next is not at all genuine, “I apologize for my very impertinent behavior towards Lord Strong. It shall not happen again.”
Your look of exasperation does not falter, but you do not move away, not even when Aemond pulls you to him a little more closer.
“I do also apologize though, for how I treated you at the dinner table,” Aemond murmurs, this time sincere. He takes a swallow, frowning. “I was… uncomfortable with some things that came to light. I could not face you to preserve my own selfish pride, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
You cannot help it, you are too soft for him. Your anger just dissipates away. Your hand skims down his arm, comforting him as you sway slowly together with the music from the band, “You’ve been apologizing to me quite a lot today, my prince.”
Aemond hums, head bowing low, his breath tickling your cheek when he speaks, “I intend to make it up to you, enkelitsos.”
From beneath your lashes, you peer at his hungry gaze, your nervous voice shyly asking, “And how will you do that, my prince?”
And again, as if gravity is simply forcing the two of you to each other, the distance between you and the prince closes in more.
Too close to be appropriate in a hall full of nobles, with eyes that see and mouths that talk.
From the main table, Queen Alicent is one of those eyes and mouth. Fondly, she leans to her husband to comment, “Aemond looks so smitten.”
But beside the jovially laughing King, the man with the gold hand pinned on his chest watches too – disapproval strong in the lines of his face.
---
With the Bedding Ceremony underway, it is easier for Prince Aemond to sneak you into his bedchamber. Still, if the two of you were caught, the punishment will be harsh. But he has one goal in mind and he intends to see it through – to show you the painting that caused quite a stir at dinner.
“I promise you it is not as strange as you think it is,” Aemond says, his hand holding yours as he leads you carefully yet swiftly through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast.
You huff, pressing your back against the wall when Aemond does, watching as the prince peers around the corner. “Do not put words into my mouth, Aemond! I do not think it is strange. I just want to know what it is!”
“It’s–” he stops, then he is tugging you to move again, across the hall and into a door that leads to a stone staircase. As you climb the steps with him, Aemond continues, “Well, you’ll see soon. We’re almost there.”
Your heartbeat is beating so fast at the thrill of all the sneaking around. But as exhilarating as it is, you were delighted to finally be pulled into the safety of Aemond’s bedchamber, to allow the pulsing in your veins to finally calm and to breathe normally again.
Or at least you try… Because it is then when it comes to you that you are in Aemond’s bedchamber, alone with the prince.
You don't know how you do it, but you are the perfect image of serenity when you glance around the room to take everything in.
Nothing there was really surprising to you. He keeps his own bedchamber the same way he kept the guest chamber that is his in Mormont Keep – pristine, and not a thing out of place. But there are things around that make your heart sing with delight – the little gifts you and your family have given the prince throughout the years.
The long black leather gloves that Jorah made, with an embroidered red of the House Targaryen sigil by you on the cuffs, hanging on the handle of his armoire. Wooden Cyvasse pieces crafted by Braeden on a fancy marbled Cyvasse board — reminding you that Aemond still hasn’t beaten your oldest brother yet. The leather ball by the foot of his bed, the one that he kicked in the goal and earned a victorious win with Forrest in a game of mob football with the other kids on the island. A very amateur drawing you made of you and him riding Vhagar in a golden frame on the bedside table. A leather bound journal on his desk, gifted by your mother and father, looking well-loved and well-used. And many, many more.
He keeps it intertwined with his other things, as if they are as precious as the golds, jewels, and all the other clearly more valuable items he has.
And that is when you see it, hanging on the wall opposite of his bed, surrounded by the golden ornate frame, is you — brought to life on a canvas by talented strokes of rich oil paints.
“This… Dorothea painted this,” you inform Aemond – who stands in the center of the room with his hand nervously clasped behind his back – as if he already did not know.
“Yes, she did.”
As you continue to stare at the painting in disbelief, you start to recount, “I… I remember this day so clearly. She made me sit in her room for hours and hours – seven to be exact. Believe me, I counted. And then after she was finished… The next day, it was just… gone . I was mad at her for weeks. I couldn’t believe how she wasted my time, and she cannot even explain how it disappeared. But now—” You look at him, a mirthful smile on your lips, “She sent it to you.”
Aemond nods slow, taking steps to meet you by your side. “When I couldn’t travel to visit you, I was slowly succumbing to a state of dep—” he clears his throat, and tries again, “Deep discontent. I just wanted to see you, but I could not. So I sent Dorothea a letter in hopes that she can provide me with a picture of you. I just wanted something small but what she sent back was… Well, I am grateful, but I asked her not to tell you about it. Not even the part where I wanted a picture in the first place.”
“Oh Gods,” you mutter, slapping a palm on your forehead. You remember that too. When you start to laugh, Aemond looks down at you with confusion.
“I thought you were writing those letters to Dorothea because you were courting her,” you say in between fits of giggles. So all those days you spent crying in bed were all for nothing? How your heart only truly mended when you watched Dorothea make her way down the aisle because that means that Aemond could not have her anymore? You feel so utterly silly.
There is a grimace on Aemond’s face that makes you laugh even harder. “She was so secretive with them, so I did not know what else to think!”
“That’s ridiculous,” Aemond says, as if you are offending him. “I could never look at Dorothea in that way.”
“And why not? ” Now it’s your turn to be offended, on behalf of your sister. “Everyone is in love with Dorothea! She’s so pretty, and clearly very talented, and so polite, and—”
The way Aemond takes your hands in his has you shutting up your prattling.
The prince shifts closer, your hands intertwined together over his heart, his gaze heavy on you as his forehead press against yours.
“Because I…” he breathes, and his mouth – his sinfully alluring mouth, crafted so prettily by the Gods – so close to yours, only breadths away. It is hard to tear your attention away from the way his tongue peeks out of to wet his lips, but you do, only to witness the beauty of his violet eye just as he confesses, “I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”
And you don’t even know who makes the first move. It might have been you. It might have been him. But his mouth is on yours, and yours are on his, and that is all that matters.
Aemond’s lips are as heavenly as you dreamt them to be. So soft yet firm, and he knows the right pressure to apply with them to have you moaning against his mouth.
You feel his smile, and he murmurs how delectable you are before his tongue laves along the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You give in to him, also craving for more.
As the kiss deepens, you pull your hands away from his to wrap around his strong shoulders, and he places his own greedy on your hips, gripping tight onto the willowy fabric of your dress. You feel like you should be embarrassed about the needy, whimpering sounds you are making, but you’re not.
Aemond starts moving now, pulling you back with him, though his hungry lips stay attacking your lips. Although your own kisses are unpracticed, it fills you with some strange sort of satisfaction that you have the prince panting in your mouth, desperate for more. His mouth so hot you are getting delirious.
“Aemond…” you gasp, so sweetly, when you part for an intake of air. The prince growls, nipping along the underside of your jaw. “Please…”
You don’t even know what you are asking for.
He turns you around, so sudden it has you gasping and grasping onto the footboard of his bed. His lips are quick to latch back on your skin, mouthing down the side of your neck while his fingers unties the lacing on the back of your dress. With every undoing of the silk ribbon, the bustier gets looser, causing your breast to spill out, the heat of Aemond’s palm on one of them without a moment’s delay, squeezing.
Your whole body is lit ablaze, burning hotter and hotter as more and more of you is becoming exposed to Aemond’s eye as your dress starts to fall – his mouth now kissing down your spine, following the fabric down – and drops onto a heap on the tiled floor.
Then Aemond is straightening up, his hands tender on you, skimming across your shoulders, putting your nerves at ease under his touch.
“Gevie… ” He whispers hotly in your ear, his fingers now in your hair, undoing the braids and letting the strands free. You know that one, gevie, a word he taught you after you had wanted to compliment Vhagar.
Beautiful .
Your eyes flutter shut, humming under his gentle ministration.
And that is when you feel him, hard, pressed against your lower back, rubbing onto you. You bite down your bottom lip, suppressing a wanton moan.
Once he is done with undoing all the intricate braids in your hair, he is turning you around again to face him, this time more gentle. You are a flush, his eye roaming on your bare body – completely and wholeheartedly just for him.
You don’t know how or why, but you don’t feel self conscious at all under the heated gaze of your prince. If anything, you might be bolder, standing on the tip of your toes to press another desperate kiss on Aemond’s lips.
“I want you so much,” he tells you; voice low, breath heavy, and eye full of lust.
Your lashes flutter at him, smiling wide as you cannot contain the happiness inside from bursting out. “And I want just as much. Perhaps, more.”
He takes your hand, his grinning lips grazing the knuckles. “I don’t think that is possible.”
Then he leads around to the side of the bed, lays you down with such care, your head landing gently on the rich duvet. He does not join you, not yet, still standing beside the bed frame.
You call for him, desire burning between your thighs.
What is he waiting for?
You sit up your elbows to watch him, watching you as he wordlessly unfastens the sashed belt around his waist and unbuttons the form-fitting leather tunic he is wearing, stripping both off unceremoniously. Your mouth gapes open at the sight of his marbled and broad chest, marveling at how gorgeously toned it is, defined by years and years of special training.
There is a cocky smirk on his lips as he starts to unlace his breeches. His ego inflating as you eye the thickness of him with a hard swallow. He takes himself in his hand while he kicks away the rest of his clothes – now as naked as you are.
He crawls onto the bed now, his knee sliding in between your thighs, his mouth on yours again – he simply cannot get enough.
You cannot not think straight, you need him so much it makes you dizzy. You need to ground yourself, so you touch his chest, feel the solid planes of it, his heartbeat beating fast underneath your palm. It makes you feel so safe. Aemond makes you feel so safe.
Aemond’s hands are roaming too, worshiping every inch of your body as if you are the altar he prays to. Fondling your breast, tweaking your nipples until they harden, clutching at your hips and your thighs so hard that it will leave bruises… And then his fingers – your heartbeat speeding up so — his fingers trail along the juncture of your thigh, so close to where you want him most.
You moan wantonly, throwing your head back and baring your neck for him. Without even noticing, you also part your thighs further apart, allowing him easier access.
“Needy ,” he tuts with a huffed out chuckle, teeth biting to leave a mark on the underside of your jaw. Aemond looks down to where his hand is, exhaling out a shaky breath as fingers slide closer to the dewy folds of your precious cunt. He groans when he finds you dripping wet, and it’s because of him. All for him. “So bloody needy.”
His fingers make a mess of you, rubbing so firmly yet tenderly at your sensitive clit. You’ve done this to yourself before, but somehow the way Aemond does it feels different. Better . He has your hips moving on its own, your mouth crying out his name, and your cunt clenching, begging to be filled.
Then a finger starts to press inside you — thicker than your own, thicker than what you are used to.
Aemond sees how you squeeze your eyes shut, and he stills. “Are you alright?”
Your eyes flutter open to Aemond’s face of concern, and you quickly nod, clutching a hand on his arm. “Yes, please keep going.”
He watches you carefully for a moment, to make sure this is what you really want. When he deems your words true, he starts to move his hand again, his finger slowly sliding in and out of your entrance, coming out wetter and wetter each time. You start to pant softly, licks of pleasure rolling through you.
He eases another digit in, scissoring the two apart inside of you. You bite your lip, hips lifting off the bed at the slightly uncomfortable feeling. But it doesn’t take long for the fuzzy, good feeling to take over you again. So much so that when he presses his thumb on your clit again, you start to tremble, whimpering as you peak for the first time, your sweet juices spilling over his fingers and onto the sheet beneath you.
“You’re so good for me, enkelitsos,” your prince praises, has you preening underneath him as he places a kiss on each of your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and your lips. He then sits up on his knees, palming his hard cock again. Still trying to catch your breath, you watch in fascination as he spreads the precum beading at the tip along the rest of him. “Think you can take me now?”
Although extremely nervous, you find yourself nodding at Aemond.
You have had lessons about this before, about the deflowering, from your mother, your septa, and even Dorothea, but never in great detail. You do not know what to expect.
But what you do know is that Aemond will treat you right.
He bends over you, one hand gripping his cock while the other is beside your head, pressed against the bed to keep him from falling on top of you. He teases the tip of him on your still sensitive nub, making you shiver, sliding himself up and down along your folds to build up anticipation. But his set on torturing you has the same affect on himself. Not when you feel so warm and good and was so tight around just two of his fingers.
Aemond curses under his breath, unable to put it off anymore. He guides his cock to the entrance of your cunt, pushing inside with a low, impassioned groan.
You are so bloody tight, it feels too good. But he knows you need to adjust to his size, the rapid clenching of your walls letting him know you are trying to get used to his cock.
He sees you blinking away the tears. It hurts, but not as much as you thought it would.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” Aemond murmurs as his head falls, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, finding comfort there as he inhales the scent of you.
And in that moment, you knew you are so full of love for him, snuffling as you nudge your nose into his hair. “I’m ready, Aemond.”
He peers at you, his hand finding yours, intertwining together as he starts to move.
He fills you to the brim in one slow thrust, hilting as his hips knock against yours. You are stretched tight around his throbbing cock, the pushing and pulling building up something fierce inside of you. He buries himself deep inside, over and over again, slamming into you like a man possessed.
The heat of his mouth is burning like the dragon he is, open above yours, hovering and close enough to touch, but they don’t — only moaning your passion for each other.
He pulls you up suddenly, still deep inside you. Has you sitting on his lap, hands gripping on your hips as he makes you move, making you bounce on his cock. He sets the pace, and you are completely under his control, letting him with no regret.
“Ae!” You cry out, feeling him hit so deep, the head of his cock probably already breaching the deepest parts of you. Your arms are wrapped tight around him, tears streaming from your eyes, all out of pleasure and none out of pain.
“Peak for me, my love,” Aemond demands, an animalistic growl rumbling his throat. “Come all over my cock as I spill my seed inside you.”
And you do. Breaking again just as his cum fills you up, just like he promised.
He kisses you deeply one last time before you are both flopping on his bed, completely boneless and aching with exhaustion.
You lay there for some time in your lover’s embrace, completely content in the silence save for the evening out of both your heavy breathing.
Is it possible to be this happy? You must have saved a million lives in your past life for just this moment. You cannot believe how lucky you are to fall in love with your best friend.
To have someone you love everything about.
“Eye…” You say softly, but it still breaks the quiet between you. Aemond hums in question, his fingertips absentmindedly trailing over your skin, just to feel you. You roll to your side to look at him, his hand gripping your hip when you do so. “Eye… you only have an eye for me. Earlier you said eyes , during your confession. But, you only have one …”
That has Aemond spluttering, mouth opening and closing in sheer disbelief.
And then he is laughing, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you into a fit of giggles. “You cheeky, little…”
As you two laugh, you grab onto his face to press a sweet kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he is not laughing anymore, and neither are you. You lick your lips, staring into his violet eyes, “But this one eye.. It is the beautiful eye I fell in love with… When you opened them to look at me that first night.”
Aemond’s eye waters as he lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss on your inner wrist. Then his hand is moving behind his head, unclasping his eyepatch.
It has you holding your breath. You have not seen Aemond without his eyepatch since the first time he landed on Bear Island. So why is he now taking it off?
As Aemond lets it fall onto his hand, what you see has you gasping softly.
For it is your sapphire there, taking the place of his missing eye.
You reach your hand up, running your thumb tenderly along the bags underneath it. Aemond hums happily, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.
“I keep it here because I… I always want you with me,” he declares. “The woman who has my heart wholeheartedly and for evermore.”
You say his name, so full of fondness. He kisses you fiercely, puts all his feelings in it that he cannot put into words anymore.
“I want to be selfish now,” you say against his lips, already dreading the thought of leaving him in the morrow. “I want you to write to me everyday. I do not even care if you have nothing at all to say.”
“I will do that, enkelitsos. And many more.”
“Like what?”
Aemond simply smirks, before he is descending kisses down your body, your hand threading into his hair and pulling as his tongue spreads over you.
---
Prince Aemond sends you off a day later with a tight embrace – stealing your kisses in every shadowed corner of the Keep as the two of you made your way to your father waiting at the gates – and you are barely even out King’s Landing but he is already in his bedchamber, writing you a raven that will be waiting for you when you arrive back home. He will keep good on his promise, writing to you every day. Greedy to steal more of your heart with every prose he writes about how much he loves you, how he cannot wait to see you again, and more salacious things that will make your whole body heat up.
With the first letter done, he makes his way to the rookery.
When he steps inside, he almost collides into the Hand of the King, his grandfather, Otto Hightower.
“My apologies, grandfather,” Aemond says, stepping aside to let him pass.
“It is alright, my prince,” his grandfather says, about to take his leave.
“Important business?” Aemond cannot help but ask, stopping the Hand on his track. He does not see his grandfather at rookery much — or at all, if he thinks about it. He usually has his serving boys deliver his scrolls to the rookery Maesters. So whatever he is here for is probably important enough for him to hand it off himself.
“Yes, you can say that…” Otto says with a stiff smile, glances over his shoulder and giving the Maester a solid nod — a silent understanding between them. He then pats his grandson’s arm before walking out the open door.
Aemond is used to his grandfather’s taciturn ways, so he lets him be, turning to the Maester with a grin. “A raven to Bear Island, if you have the time.”
---
Aemond waits, and waits, and waits. Several moons pass, many letters written, and the couriers traveling back and forth… Still, he gets nothing back at all from you.
And so like the harsh temperament of the North, he fears you have completely iced him out of your life.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd imagine#hotd smut#hotd#aemond#aemond targaryen
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Can I request a scenario Boa Hancock reader is chosen as champion to fight against yandere Apollo?
-When Apollo first heard that his opponent was a woman, he wasn’t bothered, he didn’t even look upset! Which was a bit unusual to see, as he was usually so much softer and nicer to women.
-Ares was the one to find out the truth as Apollo was gloating to him, “I have never met a woman that has resisted my charms before. She will forfeit the match once I sweep her off her feet! There’ll be no need for fighting at all!”
-However, that’s exactly why Brunnhilde had chose you as the next fighter, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be swayed by his good looks or charming personality. She had complete faith in you and your skills, something you did give her a small, true smile for.
-You knew what was at stake in this tournament, and the less you had to leave to the men to handle, the better. You knew it was much better to do things yourself.
-Apollo was the first to enter the arena, the cheers of women ringing out all around you, while you were waiting in the backstage area. You knew he was like any other men, toying with women’s hearts.
-You refused to become his newest toy.
-When Heimdall started hyping you up, introducing you as the most beautiful woman in the world, the audience was stunned silent as you walked, seeing that his words were true.
-You were like a vision; someone they would have never come up with in their minds of the most beautiful woman in the world. All their imaginations paled in comparison to the beauty that you held.
-Apollo was even surprised, he had met many stunning beauties in his life, but none seemed to hold a candle to you. And not only were you beautiful, but you radiated confidence, showing your position as the pirate empress you were when you died.
-Apollo was the one gawking at you, stunned by you, and not the other way around, but he was quick to bounce back instantly smiling, his teeth sparkling, smoothing his hair back with his hand, “I must say, Y/N, your beauty is unmatched. You even took my breath away~”
-Expecting you to fall for him, Apollo froze when he started to approach you and you snapped, “Do not approach me, filth!”
-Ooh~ you were just getting better and better as Apollo’s adoration for you grew, seeing that you were spicy.
-Your eyes were dull but sharp, like you were looking at a pile of garbage, before you spoke, “And your praise means nothing to me, I know I am beautiful. Your empty words will not work on me.”
-Your words quickly had many jeering at you, thinking you were too cocky for your own good. Apollo went to defend you, thinking that you deserved nothing but the upmost praise, but you turned, your hair swirling around you as you looked up at those jeering and instantly, they were blushing, their eyes turning into pulsating hearts as they declared their love for you, both men and women.
-You smirked, turning back to Apollo, one hand coming to your hips as you grounded yourself in your heels as you slowly tilted yourself back, “Their love- their adoration to me- no matter what I do, even if I kill someone, everyone will forgive me! Why? Because I’m beautiful!!”
-The crowd cheered and Heimdall was gushing, “It’s Y/N’s Extreme Looking Down Pose!!!” as you were bent in half, looking down upon him.
-Apollo thought you were amusing, you were just getting better and better in his eyes, you were such a complex individual, so open with your feelings, so unapologetically you!! You were amazing!
-He wanted to know more- no! He wanted to know everything about you! He wanted to know what you liked, disliked, your skin and hair care routine, if you even had one as you were perfection.
-Apollo wanted to know your past, he wanted to be a part of your present, and he wanted to be the only part in your future!!
-You saw his look morphing into something familiar and dark, like how those men, all those years ago, looked at you, when they branded you, when they had treated you so cruelly.
-Your eyes were like ice when you met his gaze, you refused to let any man treat you like that again, you wouldn’t allow it.
-Apollo was fully ready to throw the fight himself, kneeling before you, as if he was worshipping you, rather than the other way around, “My beautiful Y/N, I will forfeit the match to you, if only you allow me to be by your side from this day forward!”
-The other gods were in outrage, hearing his words, shouting at him to not throw the fight to you.
-Your glare seemed to only grow colder, hearing his stipulations as you lifted a hand to your hip, “You men are all alike, demanding things of me as if I owe any of you anything.”
-Apollo was stammering, in shock that you were angry with him, why were you angry?!
-You lifted your hands, making a heart shape as you inhaled deeply, ready to end this in an instant.
-Seeing your determination to fight, Apollo was stunned once more, seeing the fire behind your eyes. Why were you willing to fight? To possibly die?! Did something happen that made you so desperate to fight? Who did it- he would kill them!
-Apollo knew that to get you, he would need to prove himself and defeat you, but not kill you, you were too beautiful, too precious, to be snuffed out.
-He was going to win, so he could keep you safe for the rest of eternity, there by his side.
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Forsaken [XIV]
[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader]
[Series] [Chapter Fourteen]
Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader [Ft. Sorcerer!Yeonjun]
Genres: royal!au, fantasy, romance, enemies to lovers, supernatural, action, fluff, angst.
Contains: Profanity, mentions of injury and death, implications of mature/suggestive themes, arson. Actions demonstrated by character are not by any means reflective of the idol in real life.
Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist
Summary: With the two of you nestled in, wrapped in each other’s arms contently, you both begin to make plans for the next steps. You were back in Fortuna but needed to focus on your main goal. Getting your throne back.
As Taehyun and your feelings reach their brim, alongside hope mounting, it was only a matter of time before the universe had enough and rips away your moment of happiness.
“There’s no way to just charge into the palace and confront Sehun,” Taehyun murmurs deep in thought. Your brows furrow, “But you said we directly need to confront him?”
“Yes, but I highly doubt asking to meet the prince is going to work for you. I’m going to get imprisoned for treason and most likely be executed after you. You’ll go straight to him get ruthlessly insulted, he’ll toy with you and off you go to your demise,” he drawls out outstretching his legs on the decrepit sofa.
An appalled expression crosses your face as he snorts, “It’s a realistic outcome, no?” Glaring, you reply, “Well, yes. I was hoping to hear an alternative. A better one.”
A smirk laces his lips making you roll your eyes, “Take this seriously, come on, how long are we going to lounge around here in your cabin?”
He pouts, “Come now, lounge around?” His eyes sparkle mischievously as a sly smile appears, “Is that all we’ve been doing these last two-three days?” Taehyun’s gaze drops to your neck and you huff as your fingers instinctively go to brush over the large bruised mark. “I told you not to bite so hard,” you huff.
“You weren’t complaining when I did, rather I heard you make a quite different soun-“ He retorts before you interrupt him abruptly.
“Stop speaking immediately,” you glare, eyes burning into his as embarrassment floods your features. He was right, but that was beside the point!
A low chuckle escapes his lips as he runs his fingers through his soft blonde locks, “Just a bit of kissing here and there, lips and neck, had you so riled up, princess? It even surprised me.”
You glare in deathly silence with folded arms. He raises his hands in surrender, “Goodness, with that glare you could take down a dragon.”
A scoff leaves your lips at his sarcastic remark. Taehyun sighs laughing at your exasperation, “Okay, okay. Back to the topic at hand, what I was thinking is, we get intentionally caught.”
You deadpan, “You are joking.” “I am very much not, sweetheart,” he muses. What was he thinking? Doesn’t it lead to the same outcome as just charging in?
“Hear me out, we both enter Fortuna, cloaked, hidden as if we’re trying to buy, I don’t know, food or goods something along those lines, then by oh so pure chance, one of the guards on their patrol spots a glimpse of you. A chase ensues, we intentionally get caught. And then, we’re presented as prisoners of treason and you, a wanted bounty in front of Prince Sehun,” Taehyun explains.
You process his words, your brain churning and whirring its gears. Indeed large scale crimes were personally handled by the royal court in front of the monarch. You both had committed what he saw as treason and well, you were a wanted bounty. You’d both be presented to Sehun in the throne room as you had seen with other criminals whilst growing up.
Knowing your pitiful excuse of a brother, he’d miss absolutely no chance of rubbing his victory in your face.
“Mm…indeed, you are correct. We would be presented in front of Sehun. He’s an absolute imbecile, so he no doubt would gloat like a buffoon in front of us,” you murmur. Taehyun smirks, “So? Giving me time to work my skills, no?” You raise a brow, “Such as?”
“We are going to be bound by chains. Those I can whisk off easy with a little enchantment. Next I need to scatter the surrounding guards and leave Sehun alone. Easy pickings after that. Can he fight?” Taehyun questions.
“Remarkably well, he’s a great swordsman. He spent most of his time training after all,” you utter sighing. Taehyun hums unfazed, “No weapon has anything on sorcery. Even if he is the most skilled swordsman to ever exist.”
Biting your lip, you run back through the haphazard plan. Having the both of you caught so suddenly, would definitely lower Sehun’s guard, knowing how arrogant he is. This roughly put together plan may just work.
“Once he’s cornered. You can talk to him. Expose his crimes to the court, no?” Taehyun hums. “The court supports him,” you huff.
“Of course they do, fucking idiots,” Taehyun groans. You snicker at his frustration. It was natural he felt that way, he had a bad experience with them after all.
“Noble pieces of fucking shit; nothing in their skulls just money in their pockets,” he mutters irritated. “Can’t you bribe them or something?” He mutters. You nod slowly, “I suppose I could do that. I doubt they’d want to go against me when their present figurehead is cornered.”
“You could always have me threaten them, I could turn them into stone, into toads, into whatever you or I please, teach them a real nice lesson,” Taehyun muses bitterly.
“That’s…certainly an idea. I suppose we’ll handle that obstacle when we get to it,” you smile, “At the end of the day, they’re all spineless cowards who are unloyal. I’ll be firing numerous of them. Furthermore, I’m sure a little wave of your wand will have them quivering.”
He chuckles, “Oh I do look forward to a sight such as that. Those bastards have what’s coming to them for what they did to me and my father. Exiling the both of us.”
His harsh gaze softens as he peers at you, “You…you do permit me to have a little fun with them don’t you?” You smirk, “I suppose a little lesson is in order. Just don’t…do anything violent.” Taehyun sighs, “How unfortunate but I suppose I can do that for you.”
You both remain in a comfortable silence as Taehyun suddenly puts his arms around you from behind and leans his chin on your shoulder. “What are you thinking about? Haven't I told you numerous times not to worry. You’ve got me. We’ve got each other. We can do this.”
Placing your hands atop his, you murmur, “Yeonjun is there. You’ll have to see him. He’s in a powerful position too; royal sorcerer and Sehun’s advisor, what are you going to do if he tries to stop us?”
A moment of silence passes. The mere mention of Yeonjun makes him stiffen. The air around the both of you becomes gloomy. “I’m sorry I-“ you begin.
He releases a breathy laugh, “No, no. You’re right, sweetheart. If we are destined to cross paths again…well, then I do not plan to back down so easily.” Taehyun clears his throat, “If we must fight whether that be verbally, physically or through our sorcery, so be it. He means nothing to me anymore.”
“He does, you’re lying,” you frown, twisting yourself to face him and notice his dull expression. “It will hurt to see him, won’t it? After all these years,” you frown.
He becomes quiet for a second before answering, “I suppose you can see through me, hm? It just…reminds me of that painful time. The feelings I felt when I saw my father getting dragged away. The…condescending smile he gave me when I called to him for help - like, like he enjoyed it. Twisted bastard.”
You cup his cheek, thumb caressing it lightly. His gaze meets yours. The mention of Yeonjun left a bitter taste in his mouth. You lean forward, “If he sets foot in front of you, show him. Show him who deserves to be the true Royal Sorcerer. Him or you?”
A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Show him, despite your exile, you’ve only continued to improve. That you’ll always surpass him in every way possible. Not just sorcery. You are a better person. You know why?”
Curiosity gleams in his dull eyes as he watches you speak so determinedly. “Because, unlike him who’s hurt you, your father, to get where he is today. Through betrayal. You still surpass him. You have your father’s ability and affinity for magic. To manipulate mana with ease.”
You shakily breathe, “You could have rampaged, exacted vengeance, lunged at Yeonjun back then. All these years in the Woods of Mors, you could have meticulously planned revenge, yet you didn’t. You held yourself back. You’re more mature, you know your boundaries. You are wise, Taehyun. You are merciful.”
His voice cracks momentarily, “No, I was…I was a coward. I knew it would land me in more trouble.”
“You knew it would land your father in more trouble, possibly even execution,” you firmly state. “…yes. I-“ he murmurs lowly, “Yes, exactly. My father said not to. Even after he’d passed away, that I should never risk myself by going after the foolish notion of revenge, that we- we were better than that.”
A small smile forms on your lips. You notice his eyes glazing over. “Your father was a good man, you, you are a good man.”
“I’m not half the man he was, but thanks, sweetheart,” he solemnly smiles. Shaking your head, you grip his chin tilting it down to make him meet your gaze, “Where’s that arrogance and self-confidence I’m so used to, sorcerer?”
He remains quiet merely peering into your gorgeous eyes. You had a heart of gold; something he didn’t find himself deserving of. Why did you have to settle for less? When you could have any noble man you wanted? Yet you treated him so fondly. With such care, like a lover. You loved him right? Then why did he feel so terrified of reciprocating?
Was he afraid that as soon as you gain your throne back, that you’d toss him aside? Was he afraid that you, too, would betray him in the future? To place his cracked and beaten heart into your soft and sweet palms.
“Taehyun?” You call out; a flash of worry on your features. He gives you a subtle smile, “Sweetheart?”
“If you meet him, I want you to show him who you are. You’ve not once taken the step toward revenge. Well? If revenge presents itself to you, why not take the opportunity that the universe above has presented you with? If revenge walks to you with his wand pointed at you and an arrogant smile, will you let this opportunity slide too?” You ask with a stern expression.
“Being the better person. Yes, as good as it may be. Some people are not deserving of our kindness, of our mercy. That goes for Sehun. That also goes for Yeonjun.” You speak with a melancholy tone. Your gaze hardens, “So…”
Taking his hands and intertwining your fingers with yours, you squeeze them reassuringly, “So, let’s close all our unresolved regrets and close that chapter on our lives and move forward towards a future where no one can bring us down and we only experience prosperity and happiness.”
You hold yourself back from speaking further as you notice him staring at you wordlessly. Did you cross the line? Goodness, you must have talked his ears off. The last thing he probably wanted was an entire speech. Though you couldn’t help it, you despised seeing him hurt, so down.
“Sorry, I-“ you start before your eyes widen, feeling his arms suddenly wrap around you tightly; his head laying on your chest. Your heart palpitates rapidly. Your fingers run through his hair, caressing it tenderly. Taehyun parts from you, his gaze intense, almost restrained in a manner.
“Everytime, every fucking time,” he breathlessly laughs. Confusion appears on your face, how adorable he thinks.
“You continue to do it again and again, no matter how anxious I feel, how dreadful this feeling makes me feel. To think I shouldn’t, that I can’t get too attached, to not raise my hopes, to not think of a future together. To not kiss you again, not to lead you on, to not lead myself on, I can’t help it. I just can’t fucking help how I feel, you continue to make me feel worse,” he utters almost frustrated.
With an uneasy expression you murmur, “T-Taehyun?”
“You make me go insane, in the most addicting and best way possible. Whenever I have the slightest doubt you pull me right back in,” he laughs strained.
His gaze meets yours taking your hand and placing it on his chest; you feel his heart pounding like his life depended on it. Your eyes widen in surprise, realising your heart was doing the same.
“Do you feel it? Do you feel what you do to me? I hear yours too. I see the way you look at me. Do you see the way I look at you, sweetheart?” He speaks yearningly. You find yourself feeling breathless.
Running his hand through his hair once more, he inhales deeply, seemingly gathering courage. You await in anticipation at his next words.
“I love you.”
“I love you y/n. It’s driving me fucking insane at this point,” he utters with almost a light edge of desperation. Your lips part; you wish you could be surprised. But, you knew this was coming, it was only a matter of time of who would put their high walls down and crumble first.
You didn’t expect Taehyun to do it. That much more he made himself vulnerable, to think that he thought of you so highly. You regard him with the sweetest gaze and a subtle smile on your lips.
Suddenly, you lean forward pressing your lips against his, moving your lips against his with a ferocity that took Taehyun off-guard. His arm slides around your waist as his other hand takes your hand placing it on his shoulder. The intense kiss lasts a few seconds before you part breathless; an imbecilic smile on your face.
“Princess, you-?” His eyes glimmer unsurely.
“I love you too, Taehyun,” you murmur letting your fingers caress his cheek, “Let me repeat it once more, I love you too.”
“But-“ he begins in initial surprise, you shush him, “No, I reciprocate your feelings. I’ve felt this way for a while. Don’t doubt it. You have too, haven’t you?” He remains quiet before a chuckle escapes his lips, “It was a matter of time, wasn’t it?”
“Who was willing to become the most vulnerable, first,” you resume. “I suppose you’ve allowed me to be more comfortable with expressing myself,” he murmurs with a genuine smile. “I’m glad, Taehyun,” you hum, joy filling you.
“What does that make us then, hm?” He muses as his hand once again takes yours. “What do you think, Taehyun?” You hum back.
“Lovers? A princess falling for a sorcerer rather than a prince or her knight?” He murmurs smirking. You muse, “Why must the story always be the same? Who said the princess must always go for those two?”
“The court won’t approve,” he states. “They won’t,” you nod, “But that doesn’t stop me from loving you. Perhaps, perhaps if my parents were around, this wouldn’t occur. But,” you shakily sigh, “They’re not. My word, as the heir to the throne, is final. If they disapprove, so be it, it is a hardship I am willing to handle.”
Taehyun gazes at you so longingly that it leaves you quiet. “As you wish, your highness,” he coyly hums. Rolling your eyes, “Oh hush with that nonsense.”
“Do not think for a second, I’ll ever leave your side, sweetheart,” he murmurs seriously. With a smile, you murmur, “I never thought that for a single moment, Taehyun.”
He gives you a smile, a rather endearing one, in fact making you release a laugh. “What?” Taehyun questions. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around him and hug him, “Nothing.”
You feel rather content for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety, security and being cherished. You felt unstoppable with him by your side, perhaps it was naive, no, foolish to think that way but he truly did give you a newfound confidence.
After lounging around more and discussing a few more things related to confronting Sehun, Taehyun gets up, beginning to slide his cloak over his shoulders and hoisting his boots on.
“Mm, I need to restock on some herbs otherwise the food we make will taste shit. Perhaps, I can also hunt while I’m out there. Pick some berries too, I’m overdue.”
He slings his satchel over his shoulder and grabs two wicker baskets. “I’ll be out for a few hours, don’t panic if I run late after the sunset.” You nod with a frown, “Try to come back quickly.”
Taehyun grins, “Why? Scared the Bloodmoths are going to get you?” You scoff, “No, I’m just worried that you have only just healed and you’re already putting yourself in danger.”
“I do not plan to eat different variations of soup for another day longer, sweetheart. So, off I go,” he hums.
“Don’t open the door if you hear anything. Creatures here are rather different due to the magic phenomena here. Keep all the window curtains closed and always keep the candles lit alright. I’ll be back quick,” he smiles.
You nod, slightly at unease. He had done this several times even before you knew each other. It was his way of life here, why were you so paranoid? Perhaps, because you were both so happy for once. Afraid that he wouldn’t come back.
He bids you adieu and you’re left to your own company in the dimly lit cabin. It felt empty without him. You spend the next half an hour getting comfortable on the sofa, finding the drafty cabin to make your eyelids feel heavier and heavier. A nap, would perhaps suffice to allow the time to pass and prevent your mind from wandering. Yes, a nap indeed - you close your eyes content.
A pair of sharp eyes peer as he finally ascertains that Taehyun is far enough away. A smirk lines his lips, “My, my, you really have made yourself at home here, haven’t you?” His gaze darkens as he stands up from his crouching. Of course he did, not like he’d die out so easily; a scoff leaves Yeonjun’s lips. Of course he’d be a thorn in his side all these years later.
The palace in Fortuna was oddly in pindrop silence. A malicious smile appears on Yeonjun’s lips thinking about the events that had transpired these last few days. Sehun’s death came as an apparent shock rattling the Royal Court and the citizens of Fortuna who considered this to be a terrible omen. Now, there was no Royal Family to head the country.
“Oh poor Sehun, the poor boy. To think suicide would be his cause of death.” Well, if only the public and court knew. Everything was transitioning smoothly.
He still remembers when some of the members of the Royal Court naturally approached him. His eyes riddled with fake tears; and sniffling as though Sehun actually meant something to him. It was laughable to Yeonjun, really. He knew damn well why the members of the court approached him.
After all, he’d be the most apt choice to be placed at Fortuna’s figurehead. “Yeonjun, think about it, alright? We know it’s a lot to ask and we’re not pressuring you. If not, we can arrange for someone else.”
Bastards, he knew everyone in that damn hall wanted the position he was now set up for. These empty words and fake reassurances. Ha! These lords, chancellors and barons, all of them, they were just as filthy, just as happy as Yeonjun was about Sehun’s death.
It left the ruling spot empty, that’s why. Not for long. Currently, Yeonjun was the figurehead, temporary monarch, per se. Well, he’d make it permanent.
His mind drifts back to two days ago; when he found himself sitting on the Royal Throne. The servants all grimacing with disgust or appallment. The chancellor and treasurer were infuriated.“What is the meaning of this insolence?” “How dare you sit on the throne, as though you were King?”
“Because I will be.” The words had left his mouth sharper than any blade sending shivers into the two men. He had summoned his wand pointing it at the two as the guards in the room held their weapons up. “I will be King. The beginning of a new era. The Kim Dynasty is over.”
“Guards, stop this. This is treason,” the chancellor had yelled but to no avail. The guards held still. They were ordered to do so, after all.
The treasurer had been horrified at this stumbling back. Perhaps the recent deaths had some meaning after all. A purpose.
The foolish chancellor had rushed forward in his fury, making Yeonjun smirk. Well he had supposed, it was about time he taught these sorry fools a lesson, albeit, he didn’t think it would be so soon.
Thus, he had turned the chancellor into stone, in front of the guards and the treasurer’s very eyes. He still enjoyed the terrified expression on the treasurer's face as he fell to his knees, mortified.
Oh how good it felt to finally hear, “Your highness,” fall from his lips. He would stop at nothing, not even a rebellion to lose this position. Not with his sorcery. He’d make the people love him.
Yeonjun shakes his head; shattering his memories. Well now, he’d take matters into his own hands. There was still one glaring problem. The two of you. Not even you, rather insignificant as you were. It was mainly Taehyun that he was after.
Yeonjun mutters walking out from the shrubbery and brushing himself off, “Fucking nuisance, always has to get involved.” A breathless laugh leaves his lips, poor you. Because Taehyun had gotten involved, now you’d be an extra casualty. He may have even left you alone, if you’d been just a good little princess and ran off and started afresh.
Not many could traverse the Woods of Mors, rather difficult terrain, strange creatures and illusions. Any ordinary human would go insane in here, but of course, any magic user would be safe. Yeonjun had not expected much when he stepped foot in here. Though when he cast a spell; he was shocked to find an intense mana source resonating from within the woods.
Who would have thought it would be Taehyun's lovely little decrepit abode? Yeonjun chuckles, stepping forward towards the cabin. His eyes widen as feels a light buzz and he notices a subtly glowing dome around the cabin.
How very clever, of course he wouldn’t leave you so vulnerable. A force field, just enough to stop the dim-witted creatures here - but not him. He reaches his hand through it and grunts in pain as he utters an enchantment. Within seconds, the force field dissipates.
Smirking, he strides ahead reaching the door and gives it a knock. Hm, how would your pretty little face look upon seeing him and not your beloved companion?
You’re woken up by a sudden knocking. Yawning, you peer at the door. Was Taehyun back already? Abruptly, you stand and walk over, but before you could open the door. You hesitate. A nervousness permeates your lower stomach and swirls uneasily. Why were your instincts acting up?
Who else would be here? No creature would knock like a human would, could they?
You halt; you were smarter than this. Perhaps, peeking through the curtains would be better first. Thus, you do. You delicately peek through the curtains and immediate nausea fills your senses. No. No. No.
No way. Had Sehun sent Yeonjun to come find you? How could they have possibly known? You were all alone, against a formidable sorcerer? Your hands tremble as your lips quiver. Perhaps he’ll leave when he realises no one is home. Maybe he’ll think you’ve gone out with Taehyun.
You slink down onto the floor shakily, your breaths tumbling out of you as panic sets in. This wasn’t good. This came out of nowhere! You really hope Taehyun will come back soon!
Another knock resounds out, harsher this time. Another one. Fear consumes you as you find your legs unable to get up. This couldn’t be happening.
It goes eerily silent all of a sudden. Your breath hitches and muscles stiffen. Did he leave?
Just as your shoulders begin to ease, the door creaks. You hear a small sound reminiscent of chimes and the muffled murmur of his voice. Instantaneously, the front door flies off its hinges crashing into the wall and what little furniture there was with a humongous clatter. A scream rips out of your lips as you cover your head and curl up onto the floor.
Of course! Of course he uses his sorcery! Tears drip down your face as you clamp your eyes shut. The floor creaks as footsteps walk towards you accompanied by an incredibly demeaning chuckle.
“Goodness me, princess. Did I scare you?” Yeonjun muses. He coos, “If only you had opened the door, the first time I knocked. Too bad you’re a cautious little thing aren’t you? Did Taehyun teach you that? To not open the door for anyone, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, almost as if he’s restraining his excitement.
You shiver, pitiful whimpers leaving your lips as you sit up peering back at the broken door. “Oh, I'm sure he can replace it. Just a little wood and his wand, hm? He won’t be too mad will he?” Yeonjun grins. The light from outside gleams in around him, making his tall figure that looms even more menacing.
He takes a step forward; his gaze trailing your frightened form as you scoot back. “Oh? Do you not recognise me, princess? Or was I so insignificant in your eyes? I suppose your brother was more keen.”
You steel yourself and speak with hatred in your tone, “Did Sehun send you here?”
For a moment he ponders your question before throwing his head back laughing. “How funny! Oh princess, princess, no. I came here of my own volition.” You stiffen. What? Did he come for Taehyun, not you?
“Did…did you come for Taehyun?” You stammer shakily. Yeonjun walks forward with a sinister smile, “Oh? Why do you ask that? Did he tell you about our little history?”
You go quiet. “Oh so he did,” Yeonjun darkly hums. “Oh, you must hate me, no? Despise me for my betrayal. I could sit here and plead for your approval, beg you to hear my side of the story princess, but you know what? I won’t.”
You tremble; the look in his eyes. It scares you; it’s deranged. The look of a predator who had finally locked in on its prey, knowing it would succeed with its kill.
“To think that pitiful waste of space got tangled up in your mess. What? Did you bat your pretty lashes up at him, beg at his feet and cry your little heart out, princess? He’s not easy to sway or get to open up, y’know?” Yeonjun muses looking down at you. Tears drip down your face.
He crouches down right in front of you with a dark smile. “Hm, just how much has he told you? Everything about me?” You seethe shakily, “You’re despicable, being partly responsible for their exile. You could have spoken up against your father.”
Yeonjun chuckles running his fingers through his blonde strands of hair, “Against my father? My, he really went into the gritty details, huh? You two have gotten real close, hm?”
Yeonjun’s eyes gaze at your nervous visage before dropping to your neck, his eyes catch a glimpse of a dark, almost bruised patch and a mockingly amused gleam lights up his eyes. “My, my… I’ve got my answer. Very close it seems. Huh, didn’t think he was that type. No…I didnt think he was your type.”
He laughs as you feel disgusted; your hand flies up to hide the love bite. “Oh, then I’m sure he won’t like me taking you away from him then.” You stiffen. “What?”
“You’re coming back to the palace, princess,” Yeonjun utters nonchalantly. “No-“ you yelp, scooting back and he sighs almost in a frustrated tone, “Oh don’t make this difficult.”
“You plan to hand me over to Sehun. He’ll- he’ll imprison me, no- execute me!”
Yeonjun stands up, looming over you with a malicious laugh leaving his lips, “Oh? I suppose I should break the news, eventually, though I suppose you’ll be happy.” He leans down slightly as his voice deepens, “He’s dead. Sehun is dead, princess.” His words seems to send whiplash throughout your body, “W-What?”
“He took his own life, tragic, hm?” Yeonjun muses. You quiver, “No, no. I don’t believe you. Surely, he wouldn’t after all he’s done…” Your eyes flicker panicked, “Who’s running the kingdom? The people?”
Yeonjun smiles and hums, “Look at you, getting worried for your beloved people, how noble. No need to fret,” he reaches his hand out grabbing your wrist, “I’m in charge.”
Writhing your wrist in his vice-like grasp, you grit out, “What? Temporarily, you mean.”
“Oh no; I plan to make it quite permanent princess,” Yeonjun tugs harshly and you stumble forward, your face inches from his. “And the last thing I want is the two of you ruining everything at the last minute,” he darkly whispers; his breath caressing your face. He almost says with sudden hushed glee, “So, come with me. Or I’ll make you. Who knows, maybe taking a walk with me may be good for both of us?”
You snarl, shoving him away and getting up, “You disgraceful man, all you care about is yourself. The nation is hanging on by a thread, thousands of lives are dependent and here you are. You selfish bastard!” You rage. Yeonjun’s jaw tightens, “Don’t piss me off, princess. It will not be pretty, I really am trying to be gentle with you.”
You bitterly scoff, “You are just a pitiful excuse of a man. No matter how much power you wish to have, nothing will change the weakness that lies inside of you. The pitiable jealousy you have. The urge to show others that you are superior.” His gaze becomes malevolent as he summons his wand in his right hand.
“Mm, aren’t you quite the talker? Reminds me of your brother, he was always quite foolish in these situations. Never really knew when to keep his mouth shut,” he sends a shot of mana aimed at you and you duck with yelp; it barely misses you.
He steps forward, his wand prickling with intense mana energy. The air was heating up, he was infuriated. “You have no idea what I’ll do to get what I want. How far I’m willing to go. And what I want now is you back in the palace.” You snarl, “You are insane!”
Yeonjun marches forward, grasping your forearm and you scream with all your might. You stretch your arm, leaning over to the kitchen counter and grabbing the knife and swinging it towards him. He lets go with a breathless laugh, “Now that was dirty move, princess.”
You really hope Taehyun heard you, or at least comes back by instinct. Your eyes peer at the opening where the door was. You were trapped here within these walls, you had to get out. Yeonjun catches your gaze and he menacingly murmurs, “Don’t even think about it.”
Immediately, you bolt, shoving past him and make your way to the exit. Before you can even make it one step outside, you feel your body suddenly buzz; a similar feeling when mana has entered your body. You feel electrified before a sharp pain pierces you. Your knees buckle and within moments; your vision blacks out.
Yeonjun sighs as he hears the thud of your body fall against the cobbled path. How unfortunate, he wanted to kindly escort you back, but no, you just had to take the hard route, as most people did. Well, he supposes it will do you some good to get some shut eye for the next few hours.
He can’t help but smirk as he sees your unconscious face, brushing the hair out of the way. Huh, no wonder Taehyun didn’t say no. Who could deny such a pretty face? Perhaps, if he’d waited a bit longer when he was younger, he’d have manipulated you, instead of Sehun. It would have been far more enjoyable for so many years. Having you as a lover, would have made it much easier to get the crown, no, you’d have probably handed it over to him, yourself.
Yeonjun muses, “Mm, if only you’d have been a little more cooperative.”
Wherever you were.
He was bound to follow.
Yeonjun’s eyes peer at the cabin and the messy interior, scattered books and broken furniture. Hm, surely he couldn’t leave without leaving a little gift for his dearest old friend. He snaps his fingers murmuring a few words as a spark escapes his fingers landing at the doorframe. Not like he’d need this place for much longer anyway.
Immediately flames begin travelling up the rickety wood and the house groans as if in pain. A twisted expression of admiration appears on Yeonjun’s face. His years of hard work, burning down. Perhaps, it was a touch too cruel, but he had to be humbled. After all, he shouldn’t have gotten involved. He needs to learn his lesson again.
With a prompt grunt, he scoops you up into his arms, beginning to walk. He smiles malevolently peering down at you.
“See you soon, old friend,” he hums, taking one final glance at the now blazing cabin before walking off with you in his arms.
Smoke rises from atop the forest canopy, though this time, not from a chimney, but from the burning remains of one’s desire to hope and dream.
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AITA for sort of ignoring when my boyfriend is upset?
My boyfriend struggles with some depression, and I'm of course supportive, as someone with a lot of mental health issues myself. We're generally very communicative about a lot of things.
The thing is, sometimes he's clearly upset about something or talks badly about himself, but in a way where he's sort of dropping obvious hints without saying something like "I'm really upset" or "I could use support right now." For example, I'll be talking about something I did with my friends, and he'll say something like "that's great, I'm glad you had fun! I wish people liked me enough to do fun stuff like that." And I don't really know how to respond? Like I wasn't trying to gloat or anything, I just tell him about things in my life. And I know he's genuine when he says he's glad I had a good time or whatever. He's just really really insecure.
There was a time recently, for example, when a friend had offered to take pictures of me outside of a party we were both at. I told him that I was going outside and he asked if he should come with, and I said sure! Afterwards he was really torn up about whether he was supposed to come outside with me or if I was just saying that to be nice, but like I wish he trusted me in that me saying yes means I'm saying yes. If I didn't want him to come with, I would have said no. I don't really have any issues with saying no to people.
Previously I was reassuring him when he brought these sorts of things up, but to be frank it's gotten kind of tiring. There's only so many times I can say "you're a good person who is fun to be around and I like you" until it gets on my nerves. It feels like what I say doesn't make any impact on him, which I know isn't his fault, but it's frustrating for me. So I'm kind of like. Why bother repeating the same thing again and again if it isn't making a difference?
Also, because I anticipate this being brought up, I've asked for support explicitly before and he's given me support. It kinda feels like he cares about supporting me more than he cares about himself, which is sweet and all but I don't like that. I want him to care about himself too. I've told him this, and told him he can ask me for support when he needs it.
For the record, the times where he has explicitly said he's not doing well/needs support I've offered it. If he says "I really need a hug next time we hang out" or whatever, I'll do it. I just sometimes feel like an emotional nanny to be honest, because it feels like I have to be on alert for these hints or whatever and take care of the insecurity.
So, am I the asshole for not responding to my boyfriend's upset feelings unless he explicitly states them and/or asks for support?
What are these acronyms?
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[“I had been gloating internally about my ability to keep up with, and sometimes outwork, women twenty or thirty years younger than myself, but it turns out this comparative advantage says less about me than it does about them. Ours is a physical bond, to the extent that we bond at all. One person’s infirmity can be a teammate’s extra burden; there’s a constant traffic in herbal and over-the-counter solutions to pain.
If I don’t know how my coworkers survive on their wages or what they make of our hellish condition, I do know about their back pains and cramps and arthritic attacks. Lori and Pauline are excused from vacuuming on account of their backs, which means you dread being assigned to a team with them. Helen has a bum foot, which Ted, in explaining her absence one day, blames on the cheap, ill-fitting shoes that, he implies, she perversely chooses to wear. Marge’s arthritis makes scrubbing a torture; another woman has to see a physical therapist for her rotator cuff. When Rosalie tells me that she got her shoulder problem picking blueberries as a “kid”—she still is one in my eyes, of course—I flash on a scene from my own childhood, of wandering through fields on an intense July day, grabbing berries by the handful as I go. But when Rosalie was a kid she worked in the blueberry fields of northern Maine, and the damage to her shoulder is an occupational injury.
So ours is a world of pain—managed by Excedrin and Advil, compensated for with cigarettes and, in one or two cases and then only on weekends, with booze. Do the owners have any idea of the misery that goes into rendering their homes motel-perfect? Would they be bothered if they did know, or would they take a sadistic pride in what they have purchased—boasting to dinner guests, for example, that their floors are cleaned only with the purest of fresh human tears?
In one of my few exchanges with an owner, a pert muscular woman whose desk reveals that she works part-time as a personal trainer, I am vacuuming and she notices the sweat. “That’s a real workout, isn’t it?” she observes, not unkindly, and actually offers me a glass of water, the only such offer I ever encounter. Flouting the rule against the ingestion of anything while inside a house, I take it, leaving an inch undrunk to avoid the awkwardness of a possible refill offer. “I tell all my clients,” the trainer informs me, “‘If you want to be fit, just fire your cleaning lady and do it yourself.’” “Ho ho,” is all I say, since we’re not just chatting in the gym together and I can’t explain that this form of exercise is totally asymmetrical, brutally repetitive, and as likely to destroy the musculoskeletal structure as to strengthen it.”]
barbara ehrenreich, from nickel and dimed: on (not) getting by in america, 2002
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Landslide
pairings: joel miller x afab!reader
a/n: I didn't mean to become the person that writes fics based on Fleetwood Mac songs, but here I am. I listened to this song yesterday and the idea for this hit me. I am a shitty writer usually, and I am definitely NOT good at writing smut so for now you will only be getting fluffy Joel from me. follow me if you enjoy i guess!!
warnings: fluff, age gap (reader is mid- to late twenties, Joel is 56), not proofread, no use of y/n that I know of, I'm still dyslexic
wc: 3327 <3
It's not that I expected to have a crush on this man that seemingly picked me out of a dumpster fire. He found me at the brink of death by a few raiders. Joel had a soft spot for women, if that wasn't obvious enough. When he saw me, I didn't look much older than Ellie. The fear in my eyes and how close I knew I was to death gave me more youth I suppose.
Whatever it was, I was grateful to see him after he took out all three men that had been hunting you down. He had blood splattered across his face, panting after the exertion of strength he used to take them out. I would never forget how beautiful I thought he was, just in that moment.
He never meant to have a third person join along on the cross country trip. Hell, taking care of Ellie was enough to wear him out.
Joining about fifteen miles outside of Kansas City, I was met with an unenthusiastic Ellie and a hard-faced Joel. I didn't get the details of the event that occurred right away, but eventually I learned quickly that unenthusiastic wasn't normal for Ellie, and Joel... well, he was hard-faced. After some inevitable conversations, we all got to know each other as much as we would allow. Keeping each other safe can do that. Joel found out I was in my mid-twenties and he stopped treating me like a child, almost. He was quicker to give me a gun as opposed to Ellie—which, best believe, she gave him shit about—however, Joel just explained it was because I was older. I also thought it was because he realized quickly that I was pretty good with it too. However, he still hardly looked at me in anyway, let alone that way, and I blamed some of that on my age.
Joel also dealt with my presence, because Ellie had someone else to share her jokes with. I was also the one that kept Ellie curious, giving her random facts about things as well as knowing how certain things worked that Joel couldn't explain. He might have even smiled a few times because of me. That was something to gloat about.
It took a bit for him to warm up to me, but long nights on watch, sleeping in the same place a majority of the time to let Ellie have the bed if there was one, both made it hard not to speak. When we really started talking, I could see that he would enjoy other conversations with me. I was older than Ellie, and I knew about some of the music and movies Joel grew up with. If I hadn't seen the movie, he'd explain the plot to me loosely. One night I told him I've only ever seen The Emperor Strikes Back out of the Star Wars movies. Ellie had never seen any of them, but she was ecstatic to listen to Joel explain the premise of the movies about space and cool aliens.
Star Wars was easy to get her in to. Over about the month trip, I taught her about Fleetwood Mac too. The songs didn't really get her attention too much, mostly because I was only really humming a lot of it, but she really got into all the drama that happened in the band. Joel didn't ever comment on it until one night, he finally just asked, "how do you know all of this? This stuff was happening before you were born." I couldn't help but laugh as I closed my eyes. "Reading, Joel. Magazines are still pretty easy to find."
When we made it to Jackson, Wyoming, the welcome was about as warm as the weather. Guns aimed straight at our heads. Joel and I both knew we would pass the test with the dog, but Ellie... I could feel my heart pounding, until I heard the sweet little girl's giggles as the dog gave her kisses. Joel mentioned we were out looking for his brother and one woman just seemed to know exactly who it was.
Joel got to reunite with his brother, which was sweet, and luckily that connection got us a nice house across from theirs. Joel let Ellie and I get the first showers. Maria gave us shampoos and conditioners, body wash and even some lotion for after the shower. I was faster than Ellie, and I came out with damp hair and the new, clean clothes that were just a bit too big for me. I looked up and I just saw Joel's face kind of soften when he looked at me. It felt like he was really taking me in for the first time. I really don't think he's seen me freshly clean. Sure we got river water here and there, but now I was clean, smelled good, and I felt like I could just sit back and relax. "I saved you some hot water. I didn't trust Ellie to." I told him with a little smile. He didn't even get a chance before Ellie came into the living room.
"Jesus Christ, I'm probably fucking bald. So much hair came out. Is that normal?" She asked me. I took a look at her head and she definitely wasn't bald.
"Not bald, honey. It just happens when you wash your hair after a long while." I assured her.
Honey. Joel liked it when I called her that. His face didn't change much, but he looked down at his lap for a moment, taking in a sweet, almost domesticated moment for the three of us.
"Now you need to get a bath, because you smell awful." Ellie told him, grinning widely and he only had a half smirk and rolled his eyes before he got up from his seat.
The first week of being in Jackson consisted of lots of rest, and lots and lots of food. Both of which we hadn't been used to in a really long while, so much that this felt like a fairytale. I was waiting on the moment I would wake up. Maria and Tommy let us have a few days to ourselves to sleep. We really didn't have to worry about anything sneaking up on us. Joel tried staying up late that first night, but he found himself in his bed, after obsessively making sure all the windows and doors were locked, he was asleep for well over fifteen hours. He was so exhausted.
During those few days of having three meals a day, and occasionally seconds, I noticed Joel was looking a little more fuller, as was Ellie. It made my heart swell that they were both getting healthy again, and we weren't living off of scraps essentially. I had a feeling I was really going to like it here.
At the end of the week, Maria suggested we all have dinner as a "family" since the first meal on our first day didn't go as well as I wanted it to. Honestly, I was pretty convinced she had the wrong idea about me and Joel. We had only talked briefly the day we arrived when she gave us the clothes and supplies and she let me know our house was stocked with everything we needed. In my clothes, Maria had graciously gifted me. Ellie snatched out the small, lace lingerie bottoms and her jaw was dropped. "Ew! What the fuck is this even covering, dude! Do girls really wear this?" Ellie scoffed at the ancient artifact at this point, Victoria's Secret lingerie. I could never wear those now.
I had to give Ellie a little pep talk (I actually pleaded) for her to say nicer things at the table. Just try to at least, and she seemed very serious about it. She actually did well for the most part. When she started to slip up and say a curse word, if it hadn't came fully out, she just switched it up. If it did slip out fully, she just gave a wide eyed look at the table, before glancing at me and I just gave her a secret little "it's okay" to make sure she didn't stress about it too bad.
After dinner was over, it was obvious that Joel and Tommy were still having a bit of fun so there wasn't much of a push to leave. I didn't think I'd ever seen him this happy, but he was also a few glasses in. Maria mentioned we move to the back porch to have a fire going, since the living room had become overwhelming quickly. We could actually have a fire now. That was new, but I would enjoy that heat as much as I could.
It was a night of the Miller brothers easily bantering about who could shoot the furthest, and Joel just let Tommy have that, being the selflessly older brother type. He didn't care too much to have the title, but he knew Tommy was full of shit. "Nah, Joel's good at stuff too. Fantastic carpenter in the day. Decent guitar player. Has he played guitar for you yet?" Tommy asked, motioning over to me and Ellie.
"Yeah, totally, whenever we find a working guitar in the woods trying to get across country." I responded sarcastically, making every everyone laugh a bit. I took the chance to see the him laugh. It was honestly more like a giggle. Tommy must've had something stronger than the watered down shit he got from the QZ. Or Joel knew this was a place where he knew he could indulge a little more now. Either way, I just relished in the sight of how happy he looked.
"Well lucky for y'all, I actually found one. Months ago. I sure as hell dunno how to play it, but I liked having it around. Gave me a little piece of my brother." He mentioned with a sappy smile before he got up and went to grab it. He came back with it, and it was honestly in good shape. "Think you can still play?" Tommy asked Joel, holding the guitar out to him by the neck until he took it. "S'been a while since I've heard live music. Not sure anyone around here as a musical bone in their body." He added before he took his seat again.
Joel held the guitar in his lap, trying to find the right positioning in. Once he found it, he easily slipped back into it. "Well, you're not gonna get much. I'm pretty rusty, I'd say." Joel told Tommy when he cleared his throat, just giving a prompt warning not to expect anything crazy.
"Thought you wanted to be a singer, man?" Ellie asked him, always giving him a hard time, but that was how these two bonded. I had never seen such a thing, but it was so sweet. Even the way Joel gave her a scowl back made me smile. "Good thing you can though." Ellie mentioned. The little mastermind knew about my crush on Joel, after so much interrogation, of course. I wasn't going to just give it up until she pulled out all the times she's caught my "longing stares" at him in any situation. I didn't feel like it was a bad thing, the staring. It was better than my other option. Confessing how much I cared for this handsome man that happened to be double my age, and then having to be rejected. That would've made traveling a hell of a lot harder. I was convinced he didn't see me that way. He had said it once before—Ellie and I were only cargo.
Joel glanced up at me when Ellie mentioned I could sing. He just spent a whole month walking across the country, protecting each other, killing for each other. We had all seen each other at our lowest, yet he didn't know I could sing? Not that it was his fault necessarily. I only did it a couple times when I was explaining how Fleetwood Mac songs sounded like to Ellie, mostly while he was asleep. I was too shy to do it otherwise. "You can?" He asked and I felt everyone's eyes on me.
Luckily the orange light from the fire completely give away how bad I was blushing. "A little—not much. I only remember one acoustic song and it's "Landslide"... by Fleetwood Mac." I cleared my throat, giving a side eye to Ellie for getting me into this mess.
"You know how to play that one! After Sarah forced yo—" He cut himself once he consciously knew the name that slipped out of his mouth in the moment. It got quiet. Ellie and I were so aware of how we were not supposed to bring her up. It was an unspoken rule at that point.
Joel only looked at his brother for a moment before looking away and he nodded his head. "I do know how to play it." He finally responded with a little nod. "Practiced so much, it's muscle memory." His lips curved up just enough, barely giving him a little smile. It said what it needed to. Sarah had made him learn how to play it for whatever reason, and it was a memory he almost forgot about.
He started strumming the song after tuning a few bum strings and Ellie nudged me to make sure I was going to sing the lyrics. She was so excited. I could do it for her.
It was a very surreal experience, singing a song about the changes and challenges of life, especially in a post-apocalyptic world, where each one of us had lost people, lost ourselves. At one point I could see a tear fall down Maria's face but I had to focus my eyes elsewhere not to start crying myself. The song ended and this time, it was Joel that had the longing stare as he slipped the instrument out of his lap. Ellie caught it and she got a little twinkle in her eye, having an idea that her plan was falling into place. This could be the start of her very own real family.
After that, once Tommy checked the time, he knew he should probably be getting to bed because he had work tomorrow. He told his older brother to come on out so he could show him a few things. We were going to have to work as long as we were here, however long that may be, but it wasn't bad. We've had way worse. "Oh! Before you go!" Maria said and I raised my eyebrows a little, Ellie standing close by and Joel was already at the front door. Maria hurried back with a CD and The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac was printed on the top. "Go ahead and learn a few more songs. Keep the music alive, and the joy that comes with it. There will be more where that's coming from." She told me and Ellie looked wide eyed at the CD. It had all the songs I was telling her about.
"Thank you so much." I told her softly, taking her in for a hug. Joel watched me hug her and smiled a bit again. He knew I was full of love, even after all of these years. i could find love for anything, the moon. the clouds in the sky, colorful weeds that lined the roads we walked to get there. That scared him. He didn't know if he was worthy of it, after everything he's done. He knew I would be able to love him. He did make a mental note to try and maybe flirt back to test the waters with me, see if I was serious—even though I was every single time I made a slightly flirty comment.
"Hey, do you guys have any of the Star Wars movies by chance?" Ellie asked Maria curiously, breaking a soft moment. She figured if they had Fleetwood Mac, they could possibly have the movies she wanted to see so badly.
"We have all of them, episodes one and two, and four through six. Which one were you wanting to watch?" Maria raised her eyebrow a little with a smirk when Ellie squealed.
"All of them! Please!" Ellie bounced a bit and I couldn't help but smile wider. "Hear that Joel? We're gonna be watching all of the Star Wars movies!" She turned back to him, just to make sure he was as excited as she was about it, but this was excited Joel for the most part.
"Sure, Ellie. But I'm not watching them all in one night. They're pretty long movies. I'm too old for all that." He told her, letting her follow him back over to the house across the street with his arm obnoxiously draped over her head.
"Thank you, again. And just drop off the movies whenever you can. She's gonna go crazy." I laughed a bit as I walked out the door.
"We will. Take care of him, alright? Well, both of 'em. But let him know it's okay to loosen up a little around here." Tommy told me as I walked down the steps. After tonight, it was obvious to him that I was something a little more special to his brother, even if no one else could see it. Tommy caught all the little glances he never thought he'd see Joel give again. I had a power over you that I would probably never know the extent of. Tommy knew he was going to give Joel hell tomorrow though. He didn't know why Joel hadn't already made a move.
"I will take care of them!" I waved to them as I made it out to the street, getting across to my new home. Tommy and Maria made sure I made it inside safely before closing their door as well.
Once I was in my bed for the night, in clean clothes, under an actual duvet and an actual pillow, I was so close to sleep. I had fallen asleep so quickly in the last week. Just as I could feel myself drifting off, I heard my door creak open.
"Darlin'? You awake?" I heard Joel's deep southern accent say in the dark. I could barely make his outline out in the doorway, sure enough he couldn't see my eyes well enough to know if I was still awake or not.
"Yeah, I'm still awake." I partly lie. I hadn't been quite at that point yet, but I'm pretty sure him calling me darling would've woken me out of anything. It only happened a few times, and each time he's said it, it's just felt like an accident, like it just slipped out. This time, though, that felt real. "What's up?"
It took him a minute to answer, like he was actively trying to think of what to say, like he hadn't been rehearsing it. I would've paid good money to get a look of the expression his face held right now. "I, uh, was wonderin' if you'd come to my room, to sleep? Got kinda used to having you at my side at night. This last week sleepin' in'a different room, it's been..." it was like he was trying to find the right words to say, so he didn't sound like an idiot at my door.
Little did he know, explaining himself wasn't needed. I was already getting out of bed hugging my pillow, and I slipped by him in the doorway, headed to his room. He was kind of stunned, like he was surprised his pathetic attempt worked. "Well, c'mon cowboy. I'm ready for bed." I ushered him before walking into his room.
He had his girl safe in bed down the hall, and his girl waiting on him to get in bed. Maybe this was a great place for him.
#joel miller fluff#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#hbo the last of us#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#tlou hbo#joel miller age gap fanfiction#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou
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Hey there, vampire family, let's talk about sex. (Again. Because I think I've written some of the broad strokes here once before.)
I see a lot of people saying Nandermo is on its way because Nandor realizes how he feels now. And I am not trying to kill the party vibe, seriously I'm not. But I think he's still got a lot of dots to connect. Nandor knows 'Guillermo matters to me' and 'I am doing this thing to impress Guillermo' and 'I am mad Guillermo finds this other person more interesting', all of which says Guillermo is a very important friend who can make him do stupid shit - but certainly isn't someone he loves or would consider a romantic partner.
On the flip side, and this may be contributing to Guillermo's status as a vampire: I think Guillermo's sexuality is blossoming, but he's still holding back. Guillermo has always framed sex as something he doesn't want to talk about, because that's an inhibition he was raised with (and he was closeted to boot). He has heart-eyes aplenty for Nandor, he's been jealous of Nandor's relationships, but it's never clear he's yearning for anything more physical than a hug.
I still don't think he knows that's something he wants from the relationship. In fact, he wants to close his eyes and walk away from most sex he sees - even though he's been surrounded by the weirdest, kinkiest, most casual sex for well over a decade, as part of the very lifestyle he wants. (And Nadja's now confirmed, the vampires fuck each other all the time.)
That doesn't even change with Freddie, by the way, where they awkward-hug hello and walk arm in arm. Then we cut to him walking in on Freddie and Nandor snuggling naked in furs. He doesn't ever kiss Freddie, but Freddie's clone does. The contrast could not be more clear.
Guillermo's said that he doesn't feel any sexier, like he expects being a vampire to change that for him. But does that mean it would make him more desirable or more open to desire?
(And if Guillermo is some form of ace that's totally fine too, of course, it'd be so cool to have an ace vampire of all things. But I don't know if the show's going there. And it'd be weird if Guillermo's dream this whole time was actually some kind of forced self-conversion therapy.)
But he's making inroads. Last year he came out and had a boyfriend, however chaste that was. Whether Guillermo is a virgin or not, his bungled turning is treated like a horrible first sexual experience - we've all talked about that by now. And if you contrast that with Guillermo's Pride experience...
Even in the scene before the space thing, his conversation with Nandor hits different. Guillermo's vibe with Nandor is different than everyone else in the house, and his reaction to Nandor going to space feels downright flirty. And I am fascinated with how the show frames Nandor's descent: Guillermo reacting to Nandor crashing with 'oh my God' (and the vampiric reaction that gives him, a sudden puff of smoke, aka heat!). Nandor looming over Guillermo naked to gloat, before he ever approaches the crowd. For a moment, the joke isn't that Nandor's a bare-assed flaming disaster in front of everyone. It's something that's completely between the two of them.
And then they're walking side by side, a true duo again for the first time in a while, when they come across the rest of the household - and Guillermo immediately nopes out. Which, well, is understandable. There's a lot of reasons he doesn't want to touch that, literally.
But Nandor asks, "are you sure?" Because in his head he just got his friend back, and sex to Nandor is as casual as breathing.
Sex as a vampire is just something you do, and any deep emotion is secondary and special. I think it's a mental hurdle Guillermo has to navigate, either by some sort of supernatural change or (I suspect) just understanding what that means to him. And I think they're going to sleep together in a casual way - maybe as part of that sexy-gross episode Paul Simm has been teasing, which certainly sounds like a vampire orgy to me - before Nandor realizes he's feeling anything like love.
But it's going to feel different than anything else in the room. And that's going to uncork some things for both of them - very different things, but both coming to the same conclusion.
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Ladies and Gentlemen, Gentlemen, Gentlemen~ Ya boy was right we got a DRAGON!
Music lyric refs and gloating aside, HOLY SHIT I did not expect them to reveal this in a trailer, we got so much to talk about baby so sit tight, get you some water and a snack and lemme buy you drink~
Anyways, spoilers below OBVIOUSLY;
Bruh she got it ALL, she got the horns, the three claws just like I was talking about in my post, peep it here if you don't know; https://www.tumblr.com/lovelytayforce/742169202001117184/dragons-among-us-part-2-o-o?source=share
Side note: This is obviously one of her forms due to the fact her scales aren't ever shifting to contort to another color/mimic fur and the symbols on her side match, the one's upon her head so GOOD JOB ANIMATORS!!
Now, you probably noticed I hesitated to mention her wings and if so, good job you are so observant!! It's because I only know of a select few Chinese dragons who have wings, one of them being a Rain dragon. And funnily enough I was going to make a theory post she was some sort of Guardian, usually one of the Lion Dragons you see protecting Shrines and such in the mainland but this changes everything,
Now, onto the Wing Dragon cause I didn't wanna throw information down your throat! Yinglong is the rain diety with wings I was mentioning earlier since most Chinese Dragons are wingless, again my favorite being The Carp who become a Dragon (It's what Magikarp is based on, is it obvious I'm a water type Pokemon lover yet?)
I want to believe with the focus on the moon, and her yearning for wanting to uncover all of it's secrets of such an unknown realm, this might be a mix of the two legends. A small Dragon wanting to reach higher heights after being stopped from seeing it time and time again. And Dw I'll link a site with a neat video explaining these concepts for ya below. You know I got you!
Back to my point, since in most legends it was believed Earth was once populated by animals and Dragons despite being mythical entities can be considered higher animals connected to nature. So, let's piece this together with the carp story; The Chameleon lives upon this land for many, many years but then caught a glimpse of a beautiful new world, told the other dragons (Her Army) about this new world but then were stopped time and time again to getting to that new land, so she tries everything to get there.
See what I mean?
She is about to make a large leap through all of her efforts despite those trying to stop her. I could go on and on about the connection to the moon but this is a post about Dragons.
So, I believe this movie's concept will fall onto another Chinese method of reaching spiritual acceptance which is called Xian especially considering a bunch of bandits are going to be fighting and working hard against, a Master of many styles along with her army. And I believe both sides will explore this concept of Xian; which basically is devoting themselves to one task and mastering it to the point of becoming powerful.
Obviously, I am simplifying that a lot. Since they tend to use the word Cultivate in the definition I found personally but I wanted to make it easier to understand. otherwise. I think that's all. I'll link the stuff now but we really in The year of the Dragon baby~
Dragon info: https://www.reptileknowledge.com/reptile-pedia/do-any-chinese-dragons-have-wings#:~:text=What%20is%20the%20winged%20dragon,deity%20in%20ancient%20Chinese%20mythology.
Link to Trailer: https://x.com/AvgKFPEnjoyer/status/1761396436724285948?s=20
Link to Xian video, yes its a genshin video but omg is it educational!:
https://youtu.be/OUpeSCk2XWQ?si=LMB6S6XAghkWrVoc
PEACE!!!!!
#kung fu panda#chinese dragons#educational#the chameleon#taylor talks#god i talk so much#long post#viola davis#i am so excited to see her performance#god i really did learn too much from my obsession with water type pokemon
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Do you have any ideas for a Flipped Personality Pyrrha? Like how we worked on Flipped Yue, Bluby, and Aiko? The best I got right now is a purple color scheme.
Purple is a good start I think, or just blue even though that is Ruby’s flipped color as well. I think Purple could be a nice unique color to her, at least for her hair.
I looked up what the “opposites” for bronze would be, and this Steel blue popped up, ask well as this sort of purple for the opposite of a brownish color. Then maybe have silver or regular gray steel for her armor, circlet, and necklace instead of gold? And should we change her eye color as well like with Bleiss having red eyes instead of lilac?
Okay so here's what I am thinking are some strong points:
She has hair like the red-violet color hair like in the first pic
Her bronze and brown corset is now steel blue and the purple in the third pic
Her golden accessories (circlet, necklace, and armor) are now silver instead
Blue eye shadow perhaps?
As for flipped Pyrrha’s actual personality itself, I do have some ideas as well:
She is much more arrogant and acts more entitled than regular Pyrrha, fame from being the "Invincible Girl" having long since gotten to her head.
She believes that she is actually better than a lot of people and loves the attention she gets from her fame. This can make her kind of difficult to work with
She show less restraint when fighting and barely any sportsmanship when she thrashes her opponents, gloating in her victory
She's also much more bold and free spoken with people, not too concerned with what people think of doing so because she's the Invincible Girl so therefore her opinion matters most. She'll outright tell someone that they're annoying her or that their ideas are stupid
She's a huntress more to keep proving herself as the strongest rather than to actually help people
Now for her name. On the RWBY wiki it says that "Pyrrha Nikos's "first and last name together are a reference to a Pyrrhic victory, a tactical victory that comes at such extreme cost it is often seen as a strategic defeat" and that ""Pyrrha" is derived from the Greek adjective pyrrhos (πυρρός), which means "flame-colored". Nikos (Νίκος), meaning "victor of the people", is derived from Nike, the Greek Goddess of Victory." So perhaps something else since her hair color is different that "Flame-colored" now and is purple instead as well as a different last name as well to fit her more arrogant nature?
Now, "According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the word “purple” is derived from the Greek porphyra or porphyrous, a seldom used adjective describing “someone that has a purple color.”" and her last name could have to do with hubris, derived from the greek word hybris who was a spirit (daemon) of insolence, violence, and outrageous behavior. Also hubris basically means arrogance, which would fit this flipped version of pyrrha nicely
Here are three name ideas for her that I have from most favorite to least favorite:
Phyra Hybos
Porphyra Hybros
Porpyra Hybos
Super subtle, I know. Or maybe a different combination or alteration of these, but Phyra Hybos is honestly my favorite because it's similar enough and different enough to Pyrrha Nikos in my opinion. So that will be the name I work with for now unless enough people like something else.
Also, I imagine she'd still be interested in Jaune, but for different reasons than normal. Whereas Pyrrha starts paying attention to Jaune because she's like "oh wow he doesn't treat me like a superstar because he doesn't know who I am! Yay!", Phyra Hybos was more like “How the fuck does he not know who I am?!?!” and after having a small freak out do to that, she sets her mind on showing him just who and how amazing she is.
#rwby#pyrrha nikos#phyra hybos#reverse personality#reverse character#opposite personality#opposite character#flipped personality#flipped character#personal opinion#personal ask#ask#sfw#lonesilverw0lf#pic
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I don't even understand what there is to gloat over? (antis) Why does him saying he had Covid serve the narrative? (shippers) Lots of people got Covid (including Cait), it shouldn't be a surprise. Honest to god, both sides of this fandom do the absolute most! He could have had Covid and quarantined, he could have spent it with Cait, he could have blah blah blah. It was 2 years ago. SO WHAT? He was going to be in New Zealand over Christmas away from family and friends regardless. It's just a story, there is no need to take everything so personally. That last sentence isn't directed at anyone in particular, but sometimes this fandom gets deep in their feelings and it's just not necessary.
Dear Both Sides Anon,
I have no idea if you are new or not in here and to be honest, I don't think it's relevant. The reason I am answering your ask, while I currently send a good 75% of them to the bin, is because it sums up very well the puzzled look on the face of a complete stranger who stumbled by chance on our blogs.
This is an adversarial, even gladiatorial fandom. Kindness (🙄) abounds, as you can see. No one in here is probably never very far away from it (🤬😡🤢🤮👺💀☠👻👽👾💩). Irony aside, I don't think I have ever seen, in my entire life and in any other social context., such a consuming passion for the tiniest detail and such a nuclear spending of energy, on a daily basis. And mind you, everything is usually taken on a very personal level and how could it be otherwise, given the rich bullying and harassment history of this damn place?
Upon entering, it's not exactly lasciate ogni speranza, but rather - place your bets intelligently. Speak to the right people, which means 'speak to the people you personally feel the most comfortable sharing things with'. Never assume you are away from a faux-pas. Think twice before posting and always try to imagine you're talking to people, not sheep or aliens or robots or pawns. And by Jove, never imagine everybody will like you: this is not a popularity contest, this is sometimes Beirut.
Last, but not least (and I think you've noticed it, by now), this fandom just loves drama. Justified or unjustified - it doesn't really matter. That makes the good fortunes of 💩👻, who zip between the combat lines faster than the Venetian commute vaporetti. Carelessly light a match and the whole gunpowder warehouse goes 💥 in a matter of seconds. So yes, Anon - I understand what you mean. But I also know very well the equanimity you vouch for is never to be found here.
So, we should be grateful for small graces: someone who asks you if you are ok or about your #silly day at the office. Or someone who drops two lines just to say your posts made her smile, while riding an overcrowded bus on the other side of the world. That is the real beauty of this strange place, Anon. The rest is Byzantine politics and the Mighty Circus that keeps us all in here, riveted.
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like yes i will be mean to other high functioning autistic ppl whom show on their blogs they are able to write and interpret things from their favorite fandom material but donot put the same effort into general media literacy, im not asking you to be the smartest scholar in the world who knows all the biggest words and phrases im asking you to atleast know how to properly intake information and identify components of media that can be harmful, asking that of grown adults that are actively posting about why they know angeldust and the villain from hazbin hotel are meant to be lovers is not killing anyone
autism is a spectrum and quite frankly not everyone doing this has autism so idk why we are hung up on this i just personally see white autistics do this often and while everyone’s autism is different ofcourse im gonna scrutinize the ones that use their disability as an excuse to not try when they do try when it comes to cartoons and ships, and honestly im kinda over arguing this to ppl who feel so self important that they don’t even want to consider that their unwillingness to improve is directly causing harm, i am not that smart, never have been never will be, i do not know a lot of words, i misspell things, sometimes i struggle to read and interpret things, but i am still able to try to do so, and i still try especially when it comes to media reporting events and discussing socioeconomic problems, i would never gloat or find it funny to say my media literacy is bad and blame that on middleschool as an adult, bc that removes accountability when i clearly am able to interpret and understand things at an adult level, i had ppl react the same way when i pointed out ppl with autism can be racist just like they can be any other form of bigoted bc they are a human being, pretending that autistic ppl can never do or cause harm is unhelpful, and it’s especially unhelpful when i see people who r able to function and understand certain things completely plug their ears and deny any fault or blame in what they do
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tweos feligami actually kind of hits. just because adrien finds them both insufferable doesn't mean i won't let them be happy. this is right after Emotion/Bal des Diamants btw
-----------------------------
"I don't get it!" she cried. "I thought- I thought it was all meant to work out! But he's nothing like how he used to be, and— and it seems like this is who he thinks he is, but-"
Felix understood himself to be suddenly and thalassically out of his depth in such a situation as this. Kagami Tsurugi was quite inconsolable regarding her betrothal, it seemed. If he hadn't been awash with sympathy, he would've gone back to gloat to that simpering cousin of his about how horribly he had played out of turn. That moronic pile of cow dung.
"It truly is a shame," he said, sitting next to her on a bench out behind the Palais Garnier. "A shame when the pieces fall apart in our hands. Without our knowledge to remedy, nor our consent."
Kagami ceased her sniffling for a moment, looking back up at Felix and saying, "...Yeah. It's.. exactly like that."
Good lord, she was absolutely stunning— Again, how had Adrien mucked it up this bad?
"I just... one time I conversed with him, and he seemed to imply that I'm only following my mother's orders like some tin soldier. But my mother knows what I want, doesn't she?"
"Indeed."
"And- And if I don't want this, if I don't want what my mother has spent years giving me, then what do I want?! What else am I supposed to want?"
"Perhaps to be understood," he suggested, after a silence. "I wholeheartedly doubt he ever gave you any of that."
"I mean... My mother understands me, right?"
"Is it really your desire to only have one individual ever understand you for the person you are, Kagami Tsurugi?"
Kagami pondered for a moment. If he should ever call himself insane, Felix would say he was within the very moment that he noticed Kagami's smallest finger stretch out to nearly touch his hand, before it fell back as if regretting such a thought at all. And, again, should it he made any clearer—This was Kagami Tsurugi that his cousin had so belligerently left to the wayside. Fencing prodigy and chess hobbyist, an Oriental English Rose, and a proper knockout too...
"Perhaps a sparrow would never know its song should it marry into a family of magpies," she finally stated.
"Until another sparrow beckons at her window," Like he'd planned on, Felix took her hand in his: Unlike his plan, he had taken it with much greater sincerity. "So that she may finally understand what it is to sing."
"Sparrows don't even have houses!" Kagami Tsurugi laughed, still blinking back tears. "How would they have windows?"
"Birdhouses, perhaps?"
Kagami chuckled to hersef again, before resigning to a sigh. "You're right. Perhaps my mother does not have to be the only person who understand me."
#maybe i can let them be pretentious rich kids together while adrien sets things on fire#as a treat#feligami#miraculous fandom#miraculous lb#miraculous fanfic#thewarmembraceofshadow#mlb kagami#miraculous kagami#kagami tsurugi#mlb felix#miraculous felix#felix fathom#felix graham de vanily
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Ramattra x Reader - suggestion/ idea
«The remain of shattered» (as I call it)
_The day you were presented to him he thought it was ironic, humiliating to "your kind" even: a human given to him for personal serves. Now, isn't it wonderful. The one of who were once "in charge" now stood below (how it was meant to be long time ago, he gloated).
_It was quet delightfull at the begining.
The way you never dared to complain or go against the said. No matter the mockery nor threat, you always stood in silence, tongue bitten, eyes shamefully (as he foolishly thought back then) fixed on the floor - never to look up if you're not ordered to.
_But time have passed. He started to realize how much power he has over you. So much.. too much.
_At first it was a simple comparing, an insignificant note to himself:
The way those other humans spoke, the way their faces twisted in fear or flew with happiness, how characters were seen in their simple chatting, how gestures and the moves expressed so much.
Yet, you always stayed the same.
Dull eyes of yours that never shared the same amount of joy, or saddness, or anger - anything so many others did. The never changing features of your face.. there was truly nothing capable of making them wince even slightes - the mighty fear of death herself was powerless against it. Meaningless.
_And that - though, never accepting the fact - was what started to scare him the most.
No matter the damage that pulled your body dangerously neer the edge, or amouts of blood seeking the way out of your flesh, you forced yourself to stand straight on those trembling legs, ready to take orders while still capabel of, while still conscious.
They all called it "the rightfull discipline".
Some scoffly, others with pure proud.
He called it madness.
For him that was no discipline if it made a person slaughter themself in attempt to obey. And he ..wished (?) he was exaggerating with this type of statement.
There never was a single doubt behind those voids of eyes when his hand squeeze your neck especially hard against the wall in one of his many tantrums. And not a single cry of pain after a few more words said wrong that caused you to bleed on the floor with the abdomen open by your own now bloody hands. Him standing there opposite watching the dark red puddles spread, still processing how fataly abstract his "order" was.
_Only then he understood how radical Talon was in relation to creating you.
_How wrong in many ways you are.
_How important his next actions will be.
I'm a big fan of reverse type of tropes and the swap vesion of "human teaches machine how to feel" lays PERFECTLY with this character.
I am going to add more to this little idea in other posts (hopefully..), but here is one important thing to know about the reader/ y/n: they are EMOTIONLESS here. They were taken by Talon and got experimented on almost the same way Amélie was once, but um lets just say they took it to the new level here. Cause, lets be real, Widowmaker is not really emotionless-emotionless if you know what I mean. Even if we don't take into account latest events, she was showing some sort of feelings from the start and it just DOES NOT work for me, okay?
Also, no, the shit that was done and still going on with reader/ y/n/ you(???, bare with me I'm sorta new at this) is not cool in any way. Those mf did a number on you and Ram has to deal with a sht ton of trauma (the reason behind his actions will also be told, but lets make it step by step, guys)
So, really hope some of you enjoyed it, will LOVE to hear your thoughts and suggestions.
#overwatch#overwatch 2#ramattra#the game sucks but damn Id be a fool to not admire that dude#ramattra x reader#x reader#female reader#overwatch x reader#overwatch 2 x reader#ow2#ow#overwatch talon
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vedesa and lalut! the slightly awkward buddy duo ESPECIALLY now that lalut is hiding the presence of a certain someone who has history with vedesa... who might need their own post because i think 3 in one post might be too much.
vedesa wears air prophet hair (modified), scolding student mask, to the love outfit, moments guide ult camera, and saluting protector cape. yes none of these are vault cosmetics. she's actually a sky version of an oc i made almost a decade ago so if i slip up and call her by her other name just ignore it
lalut was literally based off of my sky kid. moth height so i consider them the baseline. maskless, chill sunbather glasses, reassuring ranger hat, gloat hair, nightbird whisperer outfit, lively navigator cape, pleaful parent guitar
vedesa has existed for a Long Time. she's my beautiful princess with a disorder(s)
the most obvious one being narcolepsy which i initially made a thing just because i was leaving rps frequently and figured id give a character reason for but now it's a legit trait
she works as a messenger and does photography as a hobby so she is trying her darndest to appreciate life and keep that joie de vivre kindled by Touching Grass
it's not like a super serious job though she operates on her own terms and limits. she's unemployed at heart
also neurotic as hell. this was me projecting as a kid and it still is now.
probably susceptible to Toxic Yuri (shes bi but for the sake of the joke.) because she is a little too interested in the dangerous. megabird's weakest yuri warrior
she originally lived near wind paths but lives in vault now since it deals with memory lantern and darkstone technology shit
vedesa met lalut through her travels, and they basically encountered each other enough times that they started talking casually
lalut invited her to prairie peaks and it was basically heaven. she really appreciated the gesture and now they're friends :) the awkwardness is mostly just because of their personalities
SPEAKING of lalut. they're a prairie guide and they love hanging out and showing moths around. they call themself a moth wrangler which makes it sound 10x more intense than any of it actually is
they want moths to think they're cool so badly. they will pull out the guitar unprompted and be like WELL if you INSIST
they're actually very good-natured. they are trying so so hard. they want to also be a Cool Smooth Flyer. results vary
they know a bunch of weird light creature facts because they love ecology shit which is what they bonded over with vedesa initially. they bring these up unprompted as well but not to be cool it just Comes Out
vedesa invited lalut to vault. lalut keeps meaning to go but also vault gives them major heebie jeebies. vedesa is too awkward to invite them again
lalut has currently taken in ames. vedesa has History with ames and lalut figured this out and is trying to basically keep that whole living situation under wraps for now. more details will come in ames' post which ill do another time bc i need to SLEEP
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Suits Writing Prompt List (S1E1 - S1E5)
With Suits now available on Netflix, I've been re-watching so here's a list of lines from the show to use as prompts for your writing (for any fandom).
"You just have to formally ask. Then, after that, why don't you formally ask Santa Claus to bring you a pony because I'm not leaving [them]."
"Truth is, I do it for the children."
"That's why I love you...you get me."
"Look, I'm just trying to ditch the cops, okay? I don't care if you let me in or not."
"What? I like to read."
"Good. You've hit on me. We can get it out of the way that I am not interested."
"You know what nobody likes? Nobody likes a showoff."
"You put your interests above mine and I'm just putting mine back up next to yours."
"I'd explain it to you, but then I'd have to care about you."
"Marry me?" "Took care of that, too. We've been married for the last seven years."
"For the record, I am not selfish everywhere."
"I failed...to not be awesome."
"I'm glad to see staying up all night doesn't make you act like a complete idiot."
"I'm not an idiot. Don't treat me like one."
"Promise me now that the only way you'll leave is if they rip you out."
"Tell me what happened right now...I'm the guy you tell."
"I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you or not, but I do know we're even."
"Maybe it's time I started trusting somebody else."
"Would you admit it? You care about me."
"I wouldn't move your things into Wayne Manor just yet."
"That’s the adult table in there and you haven’t earned the privilege yet."
"You keep talking and I’m going to start billing you. And my time runs $1,000 an hour."
"I know I just posed that as a question, but I really didn't mean it that way."
"If you're gonna screw me, I guess it's only fair that you call me by name.
"You smell papery."
"Your face is red. It looks like you've been in the sun."
"Look at me...look at me."
"We talked about this, right? Barging into my office..."
"He put a gun to your head and made you smoke pot."
"Do we need to have a conversation about how you keep interrupting me?"
“He’s just a kid. Are you trying to steal his soul before he hits puberty?”
“I’m emotionally attached to me.”
“I’m not the topic of this conversation.”
“Get it through your head. First impressions last.”
“That kid is an anchor. You need to cut him loose.”
“Gloating’s fine. You just have to not suck at it.”
“Wow. Have you ever considered writing for Hallmark?”
“I’d be happy to tell you if you put that wrench down.”
“You trying to look like me?”
“That’s one thing you definitely get…how to ruin it.”
"Who doesn't like me?"
"Who's picking on you now?"
"We had a deal that you were going to stay out of it."
"Mm...you need me to class you up a bit."
"Sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you then."
"We're married. It's a long story."
"Emotion is fine but you better have some cold hard facts to back it up."
"I'm just here to watch. I love spectator sports."
"How am I doing for my first time?"
"Tell me that wasn't worth missing your lunch hour for."
“You don’t know the lyrics, do you?”
“So what is this a new cologne or just a hint of jealousy?”
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You’re the one person I knew would show up.”
“Why the rush now? You’ve already wasted 10 minutes of my life.”
“If she asks any questions just nod your head and look pretty.”
“Please don’t make me set fire to your desk.”
“You don’t send a puppy to clean up its own mess.”
“You are so beautiful when you’re forceful.”
“I don’t appreciate limitations being placed on my beauty.”
“I’m not some token you win at a fair.”
“Where are we?” “Uh…I think we’re in Hoboken.”
“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that I don’t want to.”
“He is an anchor dragging you down. Get rid of him.”
“Just because you think I’m blowing something off doesn’t mean I am.”
“What color was the light?”
“Don’t say anything. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“Tell me what the hell’s going on.”
#suits#suits usa#suits netflix#suits tv#harvey specter#donna paulsen#mike ross#suits prompt list#writing prompts#prompt list#this is actually how lines to live by got started as I was taking one line of harvey's to build a chapter around. :)
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