#MY QUEEN .... INDEED.... SHE IS MY QUEEN.......

[asa-do-your-thing]

Mine is the Vengeance

18+ MINORS DNI (Dark)Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader (/OC, hair colour is mentioned), mentioned Aegon x F!Reader 3.8k Warnings: DEAD DOVE I REPEAT DEAD DOVE, dubcon, noncon, blowjob, cunnilingus, P in V sex, smut duh, derogatory language, sexism, parent-child incest mentioned, as always no proofreading no nothing

Time had seemed to slow around you. Biting back tears, you flinched every time Queen Alicent Hightower took another section of your dark locks to braid them sweetly up onto your head, creating a beautiful updo. Two moons had passed since you’d been married, and it was common knowledge that Prince Aemond Targaryen had only ever touched you on your wedding night, refusing to interact with you more than he had to, only the two of you and Queen Alicent knowing why.

It was not your fault, you thought to yourself and sighed. You were not to be blamed. Though still, you had to be grateful that he stepped up the way he did. A true Prince, you thought with a tiny sneer.

“‘Tis alright, my dear, he can be peculiar about your… previous duties to King Aegon. It is now in your responsibility to give him a son, seeing as… the realm does not have a clear successor. To keep the peace, you’ll gift Prince Aemond a little son, so that Jaehaera can marry someone befitting her position,” Alicent whispered soothingly, yet the frigid coldness of her voice did not soothe you at all.

Ah yes, having to give your husband your body, because your rapist is burnt and broken beyond repair, so no heirs may follow. Wonderful. Wonderfully splendid news indeed. Though, with a resigned nod, you accepted the Queen Mother’s dubious advice and flinched as she pinned your veil into your braids.

“Now you look beautiful enough for him. Go now, child, and do what must me done. And oh, before I forget it - do give him one of the smiles that enraptured King Aegon so. You know, he told me that that was the reason why he… payed you such attention. He always used to ramble on abou your smile. Now go, child, go, and show Aemond how pretty you can be.”

With a lingering trace of hesitation, you rose from the stool, your royal dress rustling softly against the stone floor. The reflection on the grand mirror struck you; you were a vision of pure elegance and regality, every inch the consort of a prince. As you walked towards the door, Alicent's words rang in your ears, "...show Aemond how pretty you can be."

The long hallway leading to your marital chambers seemed like an endless path. It was as though each step echoeed back into the silence, reminding you of your duty and what had to happen for you to walk this shameful path. Aegon, drunk. Aegon, sobbing. Aegon calling you ‘Mother’ while he held you down onto the mattress. Aegon, who had screamed at you. Aegon, who after having received an earful by the Hand, Lord Otto Hightower, rashly betrothed you to Prince Aemond. Aegon, who caused all of your and Aemond’s misery. Though… it was your misery, first and foremost. Aemond never had to cry because Aegon had ripped him up because he was too frunk and eager. You clutched the delicate fabric of your gown, feeling knots in your stomach. Swallowing hard, you lifted your hand to knock on the door.

Prince Aemond sat his desk, engrossed in scrolls bearing news of the current situation across Westeros. Alliances, Troop movements and such things. He looked up as you enter, his violet eyes betraying surprise before he quickly masked it with hateful indifference. His gaze travelled over your form, taking in your carefully arranged hair and the gown that fell around you like a dark green waterfall.

"Are we receiving guests?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his cold voice. Your heart fluttered uneasily but summoning all the courage you had left, you flashed him a radiant smile - one that was reportedly fondly spoken about by King Aegon himself. Maybe… maybe he’d play along, just this once…

"No," you replied softly, moving closer to where he sat. "I just thought... perhaps..."

You trailed off, aware that your cheeks are red with embarrassment. He regarded you for a moment longer before sighing and setting aside his papers. He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, glowering down from his not insignificant height.

“Did the Queen Mother send you?”

Clenching and unnclenching your fists, you nodded gently. “Yes, my Prince. I was to, well I still am to… fulfill my duty.”

The Prince looked down at you with a blank face, before disgust took over his fine, Targaryen features. Stepping ever closer to you, he held you by your wrists and looked you over, like cattle in the markets. “Hm. Wouldn’t it be the greatest way to show my dear brother, the King, that I despise what he had done by just not touching you? Hm? So that I’ll be the next in line? Hm. I doubt that the Queen Mother really wished for me to bed you. Maybe you are just such a harlot that you’ve decided that you neded to get your fill again, now that my darling brother is burnt and crippled?”

His words stung, every syllable colored with venom. Your eyes welled up, threatening to spill over with unshed tears. Your heart clenched as he let go of your wrist. You turned away from him, unable to bear the scorn etched on his face.

“No,” you whispered lost in the silence of the room. “I am not a harlot,” you affirmed more firmly, turning back to him, your chin held high even as your eyes betrayed an ocean of hurt. “You know I am not. You know exactly what the King has done. Does that truly make me a whore? And I came here because it is my duty. Whether you choose to fulfill yours or not is up to you.”

Aemond crossed his arms over his chest, appearing unmoved by your heartfelt plea. But you saw something flicker in his eyes, a spark of understanding perhaps? It was quickly extinguished by a cold hardness that made you shiver despite the warmth of the room.

“Your duty?” he echoed, his tone laced with mockery and bitterness. “What a pleased duty it must be for you – first my brother and now me?”

He began pacing around the room, looking more like a caged beast than a prince. You watched him quietly, feeling small and insignificant beneath his irate gaze.

After a long silence that felt like ages, Aemond stopped before the hearth, its flames casting ominous shadows on his face making him appear more dragon than man. He finally said in an eerily calm voice, “I will take you, then. Take you in every way known to man. You’ve been a whore once, so why not be a whore now? Give me my damned son and then you can go and fuck my corpse-like brother again for all I care.”

The words hit you like an ice-cold gust of wind in winter's heart. The world seemed to crumble around you as you grappled with the gravity of his words.

“My Prince, Prince Aemond,” you implored softly. But a single glare from him stopped your protest. “As you wish, my Prince.”

Silence between the two of you spread as the two of you stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do now.

“Take off your clothes, but be slow. With every piece of clothing that you lose you shall tell me what my brother had done to you. Tell me all about yourself and your wonderfully wretched body, my dearest Lady Wife,” he murmured and sank into a chair with a small smirk, pouring himself a cup of wine.

You felt like a deer caught in the glare of a predator, frozen and terrified. But this was your duty, as painful and degrading as it was. Each slow inhale and exhale felt like a shard of ice piercing your lungs as you reluctantly began to unlace your dress from the back. As the fabric loosened, you began to speak, each word echoing sharply in the silent room.

"His hands...he was rough with them," you started, trying to keep your voice steady. "He tore at my clothes with an eagerness that scared me."

The room was silent except for your voice and the soft rustling of fabric. The first layer of your dress fell to the ground, pooling around your feet. You could feel Aemond's gaze on you, cold and unyielding.

"He pinned me down in the council chambers...," you continued, paling slightly at the memory. "His breath stank of wine... he didn't even look at me... not really. I was two and ten, I’ve not even flowered then."

As you spoke, another layer fell away. You stood before him shivering slightly, feeling naked despite being partially clothed, your veil tickling you softly.

Your eyes met Aemond's gaze and for a moment, there was silence - a tense void filled with resentment, hatred – but also a seed of understanding that seemed to have sprouted from his icy demeanor.

“He didn't care about me... I was just an object to him,” you whispered, stepping out of your last dress, standing there like a doll, which some girl used to dress up, as you stood there in your shift, your hose and your luxurious headdress. “He always wanted me to tell him that I loved him. All while he was fucking me, scraping my face against stones, letting me bleed.”

Aemond’s eyes widened slightly at your statement while his jaw clenched tight. He downed the rest of his cup in ane go and sat onto the bed, motioning you to come forth.

“That sounds like you were not a whore at all… but your gasps and moans were heard all through the Red Keep. Why did I always have to listen to your moans, never your sobs? Why did I even have to see you bouncing on his cock, tits out as if you were on the street of silk?” He asked slowly and bent you over his knees, methodically rolling up your shift to bare your arse to him.

All the heat rose to your face in embarrassment and anger as you tried to lie down in a more comfortable position, or, preferrably, to wriggle out of his grip completely. All you got, in return, was a hard slap against your supple arsecheeks. “Aemond! My P-prince! What are you-?”, you yelped, but were cut off by another rough spank.

"That's 'Prince Aemond' to you," he said, his tone firm. "And you will speak to me respectfully or you won't speak at all."

You bit your lip, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes as your face burned with shame. But under his gaze, you found the strength to continue.

"My... my moans," you choked out, swallowing dryly. "They were not of pleasure but of pain. The King... He... He enjoyed making me cry out..."

Another slap made you gasp with surprise, your body jerking under the sudden pain, your headdress jangling at the sudden motion. You glared at him, your eyes aflame with anger and hurt. But he remained stoic, his face impassive as he stared back at you.

"You were there in the shadows, watching... listening," you said bitterly. "Did it bring you pleasure too? Hearing my cries? Seeing my discomfort? Pumped your fist while I bled?"

Aemond didn't respond but his grip tightened on your wrist and for a moment his face hardened.

"Am I expected to believe that?" he asked softly. "You expect me to believe that it wasn't consensual? That you weren't enjoying yourself? You looked so serene. Like the statue of the maiden in the sept…"

His words were like a knife in your heart and you jerked away from him only to be pulled back into place by a strong hand on your shoulder.

"Look at me, woman," he commanded, forcing your head up so your eyes met his. There was a strange look in his eyes now – not quite apologetic but no longer filled with rage either. “Tell me that you’ll look at me the same way and that you will not be complaining, chattering or crying. I want you to be as serene as you were back then.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat but you nodded slowly, getting up, but yelped as Aemond ripped your shift off your body, leaving you there in your bejewelled veil and your stockings. Not for long though - he pushed you down onto his bed with a force that knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Tell me you want me too. Tell me that you’ll be as wanton for me as you were for him,” he whispered into your ear, his long silver hair brushing over your shivering, naked form. “Don’t deny it, I know you liked it, just as you’ll like this… But I’ll be gentle, I’ll treat you like a Lady…”, he mumbled on as he fumbled with his doublet.

Was he… was your sick, twisted husband truly trying to get himself to forget that you were her against your will? That you would never truly give yourself to him or his brother? You did not immediately reply and received another slap, this time against your mound, making you yelp. “I… uh… yes?”

"Good. That's a good girl," Aemond purred, his eyes flashing dangerously in the candlelight as he worked the buttons of his doublet. "Remember, you're here to please me. You're here to make me feel like the king my brother is."

His words stung, but you chose not to respond. Instead, you lay stiffly on the bed, your eyes fixed on an intricate pattern on the ceiling, trying desperately not to think about what was about to happen.

"What happened with my brother... It doesn't matter now," Aemond said softly, interrupting your thoughts. He dropped his doublet onto the floor and moved to unbuckle his pantaloons. His eyes ran down your exposed form greedily. "I will make sure that it is different. I will make sure you enjoy this."

His hands roamed over your body — fingertips barely skimming your skin, followed by gentle caresses and soft strokes that made you shiver despite yourself. He was true to his word: he was gentle — at least so far.

"Stop it," you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away from him and covered yourself with your arms. "Please."

Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion — or perhaps frustration — as he looked at you questioningly.

"I said I want... I want you too," you lied through gritted teeth, forcing a smile onto your face. You had to keep him appeased — keep him from hurting you any further. "But I want you... naked too. Show me how I should touch you."

Your plea seemed to surprise him as he quickly rid himself of the last articled of clothing. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, such a wanton little wife I have. Laying there with Jewels in her hair and a modest veil covering her hair… wanting to touch me. Alright then, Lady Wife, touch me,” he tutted and pushed you back up onto your knees, his finger pressing against your chin. “And do keep your wonderful smile while you try and take me with your mouth.”

You looked down at Aemond, the glow of the draping curtains casting shadows along his chiseled body. Forcing a shaky breath through your lips, you nodded and gently wrapped your hand around his hard cock. The contact made him hiss and you glanced up through your lashes to see him watching you intently, a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Well? Don't just sit there," he growled, his fingers tangling in your hair, playing with your veil. You swallowed hard against the knot in your throat before you lowered your head down onto him, his swollen, leaking tip staring at you teasingly as you wrapped your lips around him, quickly bobbing up and down along.

But Aemond had different ideas. He guided you at a leisurely pace, drawing out the experience as he muttered deeply under his breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hadn't fallen yet.

"Slow down," he murmured. "I want to enjoy this." The way he spoke to you was as if he truly believed that this was what you wanted too. It was like he was coaxing you along, encouraging you like one might a timid horse.

You could feel the heat radiating off him as he pulsed subtly under your touch, his fingers relaxing their grip on your hair as if he was trying to fight against the pleasure coursing through him. His other hand fumbled for something on the side table - a small vial of sweet smelling oil - and tilted it into his palm.

"Open," he commanded softly. As much as you didn't want to obey him, fear of punishment had you complying immediately. He slowly poured the warm liquid into your mouth before pulling back slightly to watch it run down your chin and onto your heaving tits. It tasted nice, at least, you thought. At least he hadn’t hurt you too much. At least, you thought with an embarrassed blush creeping up your cheeks, it felt… okay. Not good, not great, but there had been a certain head between your thighs. MAybe it had just been the lewdness of the situation.

"That's a good girl," Aemond purred in your ear, his voice thick with lust as his cock twitched against your cheek. "Now, back to it."

You swallowed him deeper this time, taking him all the way down, your nose brushing against his pubes. He moaned approvingly, his grip on your hair tightening again as he started bucking his hips into your eager mouth in short, shallow thrusts. Your mind drifted away as you thought of anything but what was happening: the feel of sea breeze on your face, the smell of wildflowers blooming on the hills of your home, and the sound of your mother singing one of her lullabies.

Aemond's breathing became ragged and uneven above you. "I'm close," he panted, warning you just before hot, sticky seed shot into your mouth. You didn't stop until he told you to pull away, gasping for air as you wiped your face and chest with the edge of the bedspread. There was a tense silence between you both before he finally spoke up again.

"Get on all fours and spread yourself for me," he said simply. “I wish to taste you.”

As you were unpinning your veil, you felt Aemond’s big, sleek hands on your shoulders as he shook his head. “No, keep that on. I want to fuck my little doll - the doll Mother has dressed, the doll my brother has played with. But now you are mine. My pretty doll. Taking me so innocently…”, he rambled once more as he lowered himself between your trembling thighs.

Were men not supposed to be spent after their release? What was he doing to you?

You braced yourself as best as you could against the intrusion, trying not to whimper as he spread your lips apart. His tongue lapped at your clit, teasingly at first, then firmly, compelling you to arch your back and cry out in both pleasure and pain. His fingers plunged inside of you simultaneously, stretching you impossibly wide while his tongue continued its ministrations on your overly sensitive button.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked smugly, his voice full of satisfaction. "Tell me you like it."

"I... I-I," you couldn't help but moan as he pressed his face against your core harder, his tongue leaving a trail of fire along your sensitive folds.

"Say it," he growled against your thighs, his cock hardening once more against your thigh.

"I... I like it," you panted. "Oh.. oh Gods Aemond - I like it. Just like - mmph!”

His finger pushed into you to the hilt, curling and stroking inside until you were trembling on the edge of climax. "Say my name again, whore," he demanded low.

"Aemond," you gasped out, panting for breath. "I - I like it Aemond!"

He chuckled darkly against your core, his tongue flicking over your clit furiously as his fingers moved in and out of your wet channel. The waves of pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, rendering you helpless underneath him until your back arched from the mattress and you cried out his name once more, clenching around his invading digits.

He pulled back just as quickly as he'd started, leaving you panting and drenched with sweat. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, forcing his tongue roughly into your mouth. As much as you hated to admit it, your body responded to him regardless of what your mind thought of him; juices slicked between your thighs as he ground against your core, hardeness poking your soft flesh.

You hated it. You loved it. You hated him. You loved him. You -

"Now let's see how tight that cunt really is," he growled against your ear before roughly rolling you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart and plunging his length inside with one smooth motion, placing your veil over your hair in a way his mother used to do in the sept.

You could do naught but squeal and moan, trying your hardest to push him out with your cunny while tears formed in your eyes. Did he not promise to be gentle? But if you were to complain, what would he do then? What was he doing now? Your mind raced incessantly. Would he also want to call you Mother? Suckle on your teats after he was spent? Or was he different to Aegon? Aegon would’ve finished minutes ago, you thought nervously. Why was Aemond toying with you like that?

He pulled back, almost fully before slamming in again, mercilessly repeating the motion until you were begging for mercy. "Aegon was right," he grunted as he pounded into you, grunting with each thrust. "You are tighter than a maiden!"

The mention of his brother's name sent daggers through your heart and spurred you onwards. Your walls clenched and unclenched around him, desperately trying to force him out.

"Yes," he moaned, interpreting your actions as pleasure instead of pain. “That's it my pretty doll, squeeze me tighter... tighter! Show your husband how good you can treat him!”

With a final grunt, he released his seed inside you, collapsing on top of your trembling frame. "You're mine now, doll," he panted, spent but still hard inside of you. "Mine and only mine. Put on a cloak and go show yourself to Aegon in his sickbed. Show him my dripping seed. Tell him that you’re mine." A few seconds passed before he pulled himself out of you and turned away. “I’ll see you in a month, if your blood has come again. If not, well… Fare well, until you can hand me my heir. Good night.”

#asas fics #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #aegon #king aegon #prince aegon targaryen #dark aemond x reader #aemond x reader

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (32)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, assassination attempt, misunderstanding, physical violence, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him that it was only when he saw her that he awoke from some kind of half-sleep – as she threw herself into his arms, rejoicing, he remembered with affection how often she had done so when they were children.

He, his mother and his siblings, at the invitation of his uncle, Ormund Hightower, had travelled to the Old Town to visit their relatives and, certainly in his grandfather's eyes, to demonstrate to the Black party the extensive support his elder brother had offered them.

Daeron, his youngest brother, was to stay there under his protection.

He regretted it deeply, for although he was much younger than him, Daeron was a quiet and curious child, just like him; he liked to read to him before sleep about the great dragons and the conquests of their ancestors, sharing his knowledge with him.

However, his mother and father decided that he would receive his education in the Citadel and that he would stay there for many years until he reached the age of maturity.

He did not think it was a good idea to separate him from his family, but he did not dare to oppose his parents' wishes.

Even then he lived in the belief that they were infallible.

He shyly suggested that his betrothed could accompany him, knowing how much she wanted to see the legendary city, and in fact, he felt that her presence by his side would be something he would cherish.

However, his Queen responded to his proposal coldly, saying that Rhaenyra would surely be concerned about her and that she would not be separating the little girl from her mother.

His niece received this news with sadness, however, she beamed at his words that he would bring her some sort of memento from the Old Town.

Indeed, the Hightower family stronghold and the great white tower dominating the entire city made a gigantic impression on him. History beat from the buildings and tenements built of white stone, hundreds of years that had passed since Aegon the Conqueror had set foot there, walking the exact same streets as he had.

He thought sadly that he regretted not having his Rhaenys with him, for she would surely have delighted in everything around him, sharing with him this common joy, giving him the feeling that he was experiencing it all with someone rather than his older brother − he was yawning, bored, looking around only for a place to sit and drink wine after supper.

He might have found the time he spent there enjoyable had it not been for the fact that he felt lonely − despite spending time with his family and finally not having to watch Jace and Luke, he felt neither satisfaction nor contentment as a result.

He thought helplessly, lying alone in bed, that although he had a solitary nature, he had become used to her presence, the warmth she emanated, to the tender, soft embrace of her arms, the sound of her heartbeat under his cheek as he fell asleep.

He realised then, for the first time in his life, that he did not desire to marry her simply because of his father's will.

That he would have wanted to do so even if he had changed his mind.

The door to his chamber opened shortly after he had returned to the Red Keep − she ran through it with a smile wide and sincere, filled with laughter, her eyes shining like rays of sunshine as she was by his side a moment later, enclosing his waist in a tight, tender embrace of her little arms.

He smiled involuntarily under his breath, feeling satisfaction at the thought that she had immediately come to welcome him, which meant that she had missed him as dearly as he had missed her.

Taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, he enveloped her in his arms and cuddled her into him, pressing his face against her vanilla-scented hair.

"− I've missed you so much, uncle −" She muttered, squeezing him tightly, as if trying to melt into one with him.

"− there, there − your husband is by your side now −" He hummed, feeling proud, loved, wanted.

A thought flashed through the back of his mind that he had felt exactly the same then, when she had thrown herself into his arms in Harrenhal, when his hands had lifted her in a gesture of euphoria, when her legs had crossed over his back and their lips had found each other in a deep, lustful kiss from which his cock had swollen all over, slapping impatiently against her abdomen.

He felt like throwing her to the ground, pulling off her breeches and fucking her like a whore.

As it turned out, she shared this desire with him, for as soon as the door of his chamber closed behind them they behaved like animals − he took her as she stood, pressing her against the wall, pounding into her from behind with greedy, deep, impatient thrusts of his hips, her little, tight cunt barely able to fit him in, intensifying his sensation.

He knew he wouldn't last long, his cock was so hard it almost caused him pain.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mumbled, clearly feeling herself exactly what he did. He licked his lips, watching as he opened her wide again and again with thrusts of his fat erection, her folds glistening in the sunlight from their shared sticky wetness, slick and warm, welcoming him home.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He exhaled, ashamed of his own desperation and what was happening to him, his own helpless groans, the violent, desperate stabs of his hips with which he thrust again and again into the delicate flesh of his beloved wife.

Her scent, her closeness, her sounds were driving him mad.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He breathed out pleadingly, feeling how wonderfully close his fulfilment was, which after a moment shook his whole body.

He leaned his head forward and parted his lips wide, making indefinable sounds of pleasure and relief as he felt his wife's little cunt clamp down on his cock, sucking his warm seed deep inside her.

He embraced her at the waist, sinking his face into her neck, into her hair, trying to calm the rapid pounding of his heart and his anxious, ragged breathing.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, in his tone of voice something like a question and a request at the same time.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

He heard her sigh softly and for a moment he was terrified that she would refuse him, that she would reject him again.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed, and he breathed a sigh of relief, kissing the skin of her neck with tenderness and devotion with his lips swollen with fulfilment.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, at the same time wanting to focus only on her and wanting to know what the situation was like, whether anything had changed in his absence.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

He felt his heart stop, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

"− what? −" He mumbled.

He felt her take his hand in hers, placing it gently on her lower abdomen.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −"

He tried to remain composed, but was unable to − a laugh of disbelief and joy left his throat, one he hadn't heard come from his lips in a long time. When her face turned to his he immediately shut her mouth with his, with a caress of his thirsty, wet lips showing her what he felt.

"− Rheanys − oh gods − this must be a dream −"

He became so euphoric that he took her twice more, the third time bringing her to such a state that the bedding had to be changed for fresh ones − he decided he would give the order after they had both rested, not wanting to rouse her from her slumber.

Bare, tired after the journey and the exertion he had forced her to make, filled to the brim with his spend and with his heir in her womb, she fell asleep peacefully in his arms, covered by him with thick furs to keep her from growing cold.

He thought that never before in his life had he loved her as dearly as he did now, although even then it seemed to him that his heart could not house such deep affection.

The thought that he could love her even more terrified him.

As soon as she was awake he ordered that a bath be prepared for them − they were both all sticky with sweat and he thought they could benefit from a moment of relaxation together.

After his servants had done their job and left his chamber they stood up, completely nude and shameless, sinking into the wonderfully warm, fragrant water. He pulled her in behind him and seated her between his thighs, a quiet murmur escaping his throat as her cheek pressed against his chest.

He was content.

He was satisfied.

He was fulfilled.

"− the gods are gracious to us − they support our cause −" He whispered, looking ahead with blank gaze, combing his fingers through her soft hair.

"− I wish to spend the day with you − I will order whatever you desire to be prepared for the supper −" He muttered, taking an unruly strand of her hair from her face, wanting everything to be perfect that day, his proof of how much he cared for her welfare and happiness.

His wife looked at him, her gaze clear and calm, without a shadow of regret.

"− I wish Baela would dine with us −" She murmured, raising her hand to his cheek. He closed his eyelid and pressed his lips together, reminding himself with frustration, though he tried to forget it, that his niece had not arrived in Harrenhal alone.

"− why? −"

"− if it wasn't for her, my mother wouldn't have allowed me to come here − she protected me and our child in the sky −"

He swallowed hard, letting the air out loud, feeling both discomfort and understanding at her words. Now that he knew his wife was with child, he actually appreciated that their cousin had not allowed her to travel alone and that, if only for that, he should show her hospitality.

"− so be it −" He muttered, wanting to end the topic.

"− where is Alys? −" She asked uncertainly, and he felt his heart leap up into his throat, his stomach squeezed into a knot. He ran his hand over his face, trying not to show his nervousness.

"− she is locked in her chamber −"

"− I wish to see her − perhaps tomorrow, when I…−"

No fucking way.

"− no − I spared her because you asked me to, but only for this reason − in return I demand that you do not go near her − she is a dangerous woman −" He said impatiently, all tense, feeling his heart pounding like mad, afraid of what else this hag might tell her.

What else she might lie about.

His wife seemed surprised by his reaction.

"− she helped me − she tried to protect me −" She mumbled out, and he felt something inside him snap.

In her eyes, this whore was flawless, and he was the cause of all their misery.

Was this part of her plan too?

"− she told you that she tried to seduce me behind your back by saying that she would carry my bastard child? − hm? − that prediction she didn't share with you? −" He hissed furiously, however he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth.

He swallowed hard when he saw his niece shake her head as if she didn't understand what he had said, pale, her lower lip beginning to tremble, her eyes wide.

Fuck.

"− it's a lie − she was hoping I'd betray you, that I'd hurt you − I'm convinced this was part of Strong's plan − to distract me, to leave you alone and broken-hearted − the affection I have for you is a hindrance to him −" He explained quickly, raising his hand to her face, stroking her cheek tenderly, all warm with emotion, wanting somehow to soften his words, to make it clear that he had nothing to do with this vision.

That he felt as horrified and disgusted by her words as she did.

A shiver run along his spine as her hand stroked his bare, wet chest.

"− did you speak with her? − after you conquered Harrenhal? −" She mumbled, as if she was in complete shock.

He grunted, twisting in his seat with a quiet splash of water, unsure how to explain this to her without deepening her possible suspicions.

"− yes − I wanted to draw out of her why she did it −" He said.

"− you didn't tell me about her words − you hid it from me −" She said resentfully, her brow furrowed in exactly the same way as when he had told her about what was about to happen in the Eyrie.

He felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck at the thought, his breath stuck in his throat.

"− because that's what she wanted − to plant uncertainty in my heart and yours −"

"− how am I supposed to trust you if every day I find out that there is still something I don't know about? −" She muttered in pain, wanting to lift herself out of the water. He grabbed her waist in a gesture of horror and surprise, forcing her to fall between his thighs again, looking at her in disbelief.

"− if it wasn't for your request, she would already be dead −"

"− only dead will she give you the confidence that you will not do what she prophesied? −"

He let out a loud breath at her words, angry and hurt, feeling the accusation in her question, though when she was not by his side after he had locked Alys in her chamber, he did not devote his thoughts or his fantasies to this woman.

In truth, the fact that she was near, at his fingertips, and he felt no need to see her confirmed his belief that everything she had said was a lie.

Daemon was right.

Just because he perceived her as a fine-looking, perhaps even tempting woman didn't mean he needed or wanted to put his cock inside her.

He wasn't desperate, he wasn't broken because he knew that his wife, his lover, his childhood friend, though furious at him and hurt, though far away from him, had not abandoned him.

This realisation brought him relief because it made him understand that he was not an animal with no control over his instincts, but a thinking man with a will of his own, filled with warm, tender affection for the woman who was now looking at him in pain.

How was he to explain to her that he had been faithful to her not only with his body but also with his heart?

That what he really feared was that he might lose her again, this time forever?

"− do you want to argue over the words of that treacherous whore whose life you yourself asked me to spare? −" He asked at last, heartbroken that she was slipping out of his hands again, that he was losing her again despite the fact that only a moment ago they had been making love, unable to tear themselves away from each other.

Her lips tightened into a thin line out of helplessness.

"− I didn't know −"

"− so you fucking know now −" He growled, losing his temper, filled with rage and regret because she didn't believe him, because she couldn't see how deep his feeling was, even though he tried so hard.

After a while, however, something happened that he did not expect.

His niece burst out crying before his eyes, like a small child hiding her face in her hands.

This sight cooled his anger, bringing him back to earth.

"− shhh − come here −" He whispered, pulling her head towards him, cuddling her face into his chest, locking her into the tight, secure embrace of his arms, and she did not push him away.

They stayed like that for a long moment, not moving, his lips placing a tender, warm kiss on her head once in a while, taking in her scent.

He couldn't be mad at her, his sweet little wife, the mother of his child.

She had given him everything he had ever wanted.

"− no more secrets, Rheanys −" He whispered.

"− you know everything now − I am bare before you, not just with my body − you see me as I am −" He added, staring dully ahead, playing with the wet strands of her hair, contemplating how exposed he was to her, with what ease she could hurt him if she wanted to.

"− when you were not by my side, I had nightmares − I dreamt that you were dying, each time through my fault − I dreamt it because it is what I dread the most − in the years that you have been in Dragonstone a cold, black emptiness has burned in me − I have felt nothing − I have experienced nothing − my mother placed the daughters of the lords under my nose, and all I could think of when I looked at them was that they were not similar enough to you − they couldn't or didn't want to understand my true nature − they didn't see me −"

He muttered, feeling that his words were not coming from his mind, but more from his subconscious, from what lurked in the depths of his heart.

It was everything he had wanted to write to her in response to her letters over the years, but couldn't − every time he wrote those words down on parchment he felt pathetic, weak, small and tore the result of his work to shreds, throwing them into the fire where they burned just like his heavy heart, filled with darkness and pain.

"− I am tired, Rhaenys − I am exhausted − since that night, when I tamed Vhagar, I have had no peace, no rest − only with you, then, in that chamber beneath the Red Keep, when I fell asleep by your side − I −" He sighed, pressing his forehead against hers, unable to properly explain what he wanted to say, what an agony the eight years he had spent separated from her had been for him.

Some part of him believed it would get better, while the other part screamed with rage, regret and disappointment.

He tried to reconcile these two halves with each other, but he couldn't, because they simply didn't fit together.

One of them wanted to kill her, the other wanted to abduct her and take her as his wife.

When she arrived years later in the Red Keep, he was on the verge of madness.

"− I'll speak with her − alone −" She whispered after a moment, and he froze, looking at her in disbelief as she stood up slowly with a splash of water and stepped out of the bath.

He felt the pain of humiliation and regret that now that he had really opened up to her, she seemed not to be listening to him.

An unpleasant shudder of rejection shook his body as he ran his hand over his face, bitter.

"− my words mean nothing to you? −"

"− it's not about you, uncle − I have to do it for myself −"

His words accomplished nothing − his niece demanded that his guards lead her to the chamber of the Witch of Harrenhal, and he agreed, leading her figure away with sad, empty gaze.

He waited for her in a gloomy mood, not even wanting to imagine what this whore might have put into her head.

He covered his face with his hand, swallowing hard at the thought that she could have told her anything − suggested that he had taken her into his bed when he conquered Harrenhal, that he had tried to take her by force, that he had courted her, anything her imagination could bring that would make his wife push him further away.

He thought with rage that he should have killed her when he had the chance.

He shuddered as his wife stepped into his chamber after a period of time that seemed to him to last for hours. He rose from his chair, horrified to see that she had not bestowed a single glance on him, her face expressing nothing.

He watched as she sat behind his desk without a word, feeling his heart pound like mad at the sight of her hands reaching for parchment and quill.

"− what did she tell you? −" He asked coldly.

His wife did not lift her gaze to him, bent over her letter, dipping the tip of her quill in ink.

"The truth. I am writing a letter to my cousin in the Eyrie to accept Alys into his fortress as a medic." She replied calmly, without a trace of regret or anger.

He swallowed loudly, concerned, not knowing what had happened there, what was meant by that enigmatic expression on her face that told him absolutely nothing.

He could not, however, hide his relief at the thought that his wife had regained her reason and wanted to send that treacherous whore away.

"Good." He replied dispassionately.

He paced around the room, looking at her, begging in his mind for her to look at him, to tell him that this woman had confirmed his words, and that she didn't resent him for anything.

His niece, however, as soon as she had placed her letter in the hands of the servant, lay down in his bed saying that she was very tired and wished to rest before supper.

He approached her uncertainly and sat down beside her on the bedding, his hand rising to her shoulder and stroking it in a gentle, affectionate gesture.

"− shouldn't you have a meal now? − surely you are hungry and thirsty after such a long journey −" He asked, feeling that now more than ever he had to look out for her and her well-being, wanting to make sure she was provided with everything she needed.

"− there is no need, uncle − I will wait until evening −" She whispered and closed her eyes, letting him know that she had ended the subject.

He sighed heavily and stood up, sitting down behind his desk, bending over the correspondence he had exchanged with his brother, together trying to find out where Lord Strong had hidden and whether their grandfather had put his hand to his disappearance.

His wife, true to her word, only got up when the servants began to prepare the table for supper; he watched her without saying a word, thinking she looked charming as she did now, sleepy, with her hair in a slight disarray, rubbing her tired eyelids with her hands before asking one of the women to help her get herself in order.

It was a sight meant only for him − her husband.

They waited with the main courses for Baela. When his cousin stepped into his chamber she emanated with joy, a smile of satisfaction on her face that made his stomach twist. He looked away at this sight, frustrated, and sighed heavily.

"Dear cousin. My congratulations. You are going to become a father." She said softly and he only nodded, wanting her to end this feigned courtesy as soon as possible, fill her stomach with food and wine and leave them alone.

Baela took a seat on his left and his wife sat opposite her, on his right. His niece nodded at the servant to begin serving the table − the door to his chamber opened and several young men and women entered with jugs of wine and trays full of food. One of them approached his wife and leaned over her − she nodded, wishing the man would pour her some wine.

The servant filled her cup halfway, as was good custom, she, however, shook her head.

"More." She demanded, leaving him and her cousin in consternation.

"Is that wise? In your condition…" He muttered, wondering if it would be good for their child, but her stern gaze made him close his mouth, recognising that he didn't want to add to both of their frustrations that evening.

As soon as the servant had done his duty his niece raised her cup as if she wanted to make a toast. He assumed she wanted to drink to the health of their yet-to-be-born child and reached for his goblet, however, she pointed her chalice towards the man standing next to her, who looked at her questioningly.

"Drink." She commanded.

The servant smiled shyly at her, as if he did not understand what she expected of him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Drink. To the bottom."

A long, awkward silence fell − he felt his heart stop in his throat, a cold, unpleasant shiver run along his spine.

What?

The boy laughed, shaking his head, clearly nervous and terrified.

"I am not worthy, Your Grace. I would not dare."

"I order you to drink it all to the last drop." She hissed in a voice that did not bear opposition.

The wine was poisoned.

"I can't, Your Grace, I…"

"FUCKING DRINK IT." He growled with rage as he stood up abruptly from the table, looking at him with wide-open eye thinking that if he didn't, he would pour the contents of that cup down his throat himself.

The man shook his head and he pressed his lips into a thin line, moving towards him like an enraged animal.

"Hold him." He threw to his guards, who immediately grabbed the boy by the shoulders, refusing to let him break free despite his terror and cries.

"N-no, Your Grace. I can't drink wine. It affects me badly. I might die." He whined, tears in his eyes, his face pale as if death itself stood before him.

He wanted to poison his wife.

How many other people here were acting on Lord Strong's orders?

He was sure he'd gotten rid of all the rats by recruiting new people to work in the fortress, but as he could see, new ones were appearing anyway.

He should have killed them all.

He smiled at his words in a way at which the boy wept aloud, clearly knowing what awaited him. He took the cup from his niece's hand, who looked at him with parted lips.

The dragon's blood now pulsed through his veins.

Dragons knew no forgiveness.

"I'd love to see this." He sneered, gripping his cheeks in his palm, squeezing his jaw as hard as if he wanted to break it.

The boy cried out loudly as he tilted his head back with a brutal jerk, digging his fingers into the skin of his face forcing him to open his mouth. He grinned as he pressed the cup to his lips, forcibly pouring its entire contents down his throat.

The man began to choke, trickles of wine running from the corners of his mouth down his cheeks. When he thought it was over, he reached for the jug and filled the cup again, repeating the same process. He pressed his lips together when he saw his eyes fill with blood, his skin begin to turn purple, his body shaken by convulsions.

The servant collapsed to the ground, blood and foam beginning to drip from his mouth as if he were some kind of butchered animal, and the only thing he could think of, looking at him wide-eyed, was that this was what his wife could look like, the woman who was carrying his child inside her.

The woman he loved could have died that evening in his arms.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #canon aemond #aemond x female #aemond x wife #aemond x niece #aemond x female character #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #aemond x oc #ewanverse #hotd smut #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #aemond hotd

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Somewhere Only We Know ♡

♡ Pairings: artist!boyfriend!hyunjin x fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Summary: Things have been hard for you lately so you retreat to your boyfriend's apartment where you find all of the love and reassurance a girl could ask for.

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: None really but reader's been going through a lot so she is indeed a little sad tonight.

♡ A/N: This is a request from @jehhskz who I promised to write a literary hug for so I really hope I lived up to my promise. Thanks so much for the request you beautiful human.

The night hangs quietly over Hyunjin’s loft, the fresh earthy post rain air gradually filling the space. Seated at his desk facing the open window, Hyunjin hums along to the music flowing from the record player tucked in a nearby corner. Before him on the desk sits an open sketchbook, textured canvas paper coated in a gradient of pastels that mirror the night sky.

And seated on the floor between his legs, wrapped up cozy and warm in his favorite blanket, is you. Working with his pastels typically dictates that Hyunjin use two hands but tonight he makes due with one, the other preoccupied with more important things like playing with your hair or tracing the contours of your face.

With your head resting against his inner thigh he can only reach one side of your face but that’s more than enough room for him to silently praise those beautiful features that take up more space in his mind than you know. The tips of his fingers are delicate, each brush of them across your skin so deliberate that it’s almost as if you’re one of his paintings. 

Lately it seems that the whole world’s caving in on you. The pressures of life have begun to take their toll and it’s all so much…too much. What you’ve needed more than anything is a safe place to be, somewhere to get away from it all, and Hyunjin couldn’t be happier to be that for you. “Jinnie…” you say—the first thing you’ve said in at least an hour—and the scratching of a midnight blue pastel against paper comes to a halt. In an instant everything around him disappears. There’s only you.

Hyunjin reaches around, cupping your chin, and tilts your head up towards him. You lock eyes, him looking down and you looking up. His eyes are the moon, yours are the sea, and, oh, how he moves you. “Need something, sweetie?” he asks, strands of dark hair falling loose from the hair band keeping it out of his face. You shake your head, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up as he strokes the side of your neck. “No, it’s just…do you ever wanna…I don’t know, run away?”

Hyunjin gasps, pretending to be on the verge of tears, “She said I’m so boring I make her wanna run away.”

“You’re such a drama queen” you giggle, rolling your eyes, “It’s not that. I mean, I do want to run away but not from you. From…” Your chest tightens at the thought of what troubles you, stopping your words short.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you on the forehead, grounding you in this moment with him. His way of reminding you that you are safe here. “From everything else? Just drop it all and run as fast as you can to escape it? I feel that way all the time. Way more than I’d like to honestly.” 

“So how do you get over it?” you ask, relieved to finally have someone who gets it. “Hmm,” he sighs, glancing out at the endless night and back down at you, “Someone once told me that when we feel bad things that’s just our hearts telling us that something’s not right. So we shouldn’t just get over it. We should pay attention to it.”

You shudder at the concept, paying more attention to what you’re feeling is the last thing you want to do. “But every time I think about it I get so upset. I feel weak.”

Hyunjin’s expression sours the second the word “weak” leaves your lips. Sitting back in his chair, he holds his arms out to you, “Come sit.” Staying snug in your blanket burrito, you make your way onto his lap, quickly adjusting to your new spot. Hyunjin laces his arms around you, holding you close to him like something too valuable to let sit unprotected.

“Never say that again” he says, empathetic but unwilling to let you doubt yourself, “You are not weak. You’re human. Life sucks sometimes and you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with it. Not for anyone.”

Fidgeting with a loose thread in the blanket’s stitching, you fight your hardest to choke back the tears that inevitably come streaming down your cheeks. Life may be overwhelming but this—being loved by him even when you’re falling apart—is overwhelming in its own way.

Hyunjin pulls the sleeves down on his sweatshirt, using the smooth cotton to wipe away your tears as they fall. “So, where are we running to?”

“What do you mean?” you sniffle, blinking through the tears. 

Hyunjin looks at you like his reasoning’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You wanna go so let’s go. Right now. We don’t even have to tell anyone. Let’s just…fuck it…let’s go.” 

“You can’t just go, Jinnie. You have that thing tomorrow and—” 

Hyunjin kisses you, wiping your brain clean of any thoughts of pushing him away. His lips play a game of catch and release with yours. Drowning you in their soft embrace, letting you come up for air, and dragging you back down again. “What’d I say to you when I asked you to be my girlfriend?” 

“You said, ‘It’s me and you’” you recall, as if you could ever forget. 

“Me and you and you and me and me and you” Hyunjin says faster each time until you’re giggling through what’s left of your tears, “We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me.” 

He lingers closely enough to your face that you could steal a kiss of your own if you wanted to and you do. Your body rushes with so much heat that you let the blanket fall away, exposing you to a light breeze. Hyunjin pulls you over so that you’re stadling him, his arms locking around your waist.

“Take me wherever you want,” you whisper, “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.” It gives him butterflies to hear you say that and you notice his cheeks begin to go all rosy on you. It’s the cutest thing. Hyunjin plants his feet firmly on the ground, lifting you up without warning, and carrying you towards the bed. You cling to him for dear life, only letting go once he has you safely on the bed. Even then the two of you can’t quite untangle from each other. Not that either of you try. 

“Cuddle tonight and prison break in the morning, deal?” he asks, lit up with all the possibilities of where you could escape to together.

You yawn, settling into the fluffy mattress, eyelids growing heavy, “Deal.”

Hyunjin pulls you in, your head nestled against his chest, and strokes your hair as he hums along to the music once more. You drift off to sleep in no time. Comforted, loved, protected, and safe in the knowledge that tomorrow won’t be like the others have been because you’ve finally let him in. Finally let yourself trust that it truly is you and him. 

And him and you and you and him and…

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff

[geekgirles]

Okay, judging from how things are going so far, Yugo's probably going to be poisoned next week, which at the same time will probably act as the catalyst needed for Amalia to confront Aurora and for the two of them to fight like in the trailer.

Now, I'm more interested in the panel where Aurora starts crying, since for someone so emotionless and cold to shed what, for once, seems to be genuine tears, that must mean something's hit her hard.

My money is on Amalia connecting the dots and realising Yugo's drink was probably poisoned by the Osamodas to ensure she can't count on her greatest ally and staunchest supporter as they feud over the throne. Which, as I already mentioned, will probably lead to Amalia reaching her breaking point and forgoing all pretenses of acting civil towards them.

More specifically, I have the feeling Aurora's tears will be a result of Amalia accusing her of doing something as rotten as trying to kill her husband. And I narrowed the possibilities down to three different reasons for that heartless cow to break down crying:

She will be offended Amalia thinks so low of her as to rob her of her husband after losing hers (neutral option; I'm not going to try and predict if she really did it or not with this one).

In case she is responsible for it, what'll get her to cry won't be Amalia's accusations, but probably our queen saying something to insult her and her relationship with Armand, like Aurora never being worthy of becoming his queen.

She did not do it and is genuinely hurt Amalia thinks she's capable of doing something so heinous... only to eventually break down for real if it ends up being revealed that, though she's innocent, her father most certainly is not. Which would mean they are indeed unworthy of ruling the Sadida if the Osamodas King is willing to go that far despite supposedly having a legitimate claim on the throne through her child.

No matter how this all plays out, I'm gonna be over here, cheering for Amalia, as she tears that entitled bitch a new one and wipes the floor with her.

#wakfu #wakfu spoilers #wakfu webtoon #wakfu analysis #wakfu la grande vague #wakfu the great wave #yugo the eliatrope #amalia sheran sharm #yumalia #aurora #osamodas king #osamodas #sadida #armand sheran sharm #ankama #krosmoz #dofus

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

When It Breaks (What is Broken AU) Teaser

Thanks to a brilliant anon, after I finish What is Beoken IV, I’m going to dive into an AU where Wifey wasn’t pregnant when Aemond left for Harrenhal. So when Rhaenyra and Daemon take King’s Landing, she is entirely at the mercy of her uncle, who has a well known taste for young Valyrian women…

Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Sister-wife!Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

When It Breaks

Nephew,

I do hope you continue to find Harrenhal pleasant, even if you have turned the surrounding lands into a fiery hellscape. I quite enjoyed my time there, and I hear you are, as well. But let us not speak of war or death or treason, for I write this to bring glad tidings to our family.

Unfortunately, it is not that your elder brother has been found, captured, and killed. This pathetic attempt at usurpation shall continue for the time being, it seems. Nor is it that your cunt mother has ceased her senseless wailing or proselytizing her cause, though I may indeed go mad soon if she doesn’t.

No, this news is of your sweet sister and wife - what is it you call her? Ābrazȳrītsos? I shall have to come up with something for myself - and my dear niece has recently learned she is carrying a child.

Do send your congratulations hastily, nephew, for I am utterly delighted that I am once again to be a father.

And while this child will sadly be a bastard, those we will have in future will not. My wife, our Queen, has granted me permission to take your ābrazȳrītsos as my second wife. Ah, perhaps I will not have to design my own name for her after all.

Of course, before I do so, I must kill you. It would not do for her to have two husbands, you understand. So enjoy Harrenhal while you can, nephew. I will come for you soon.

Oh, I almost forgot! Congratulations are due to you as well. My spies tell me your mistress is also with child. How fortunate we both are to have such fertile women in our beds.

Signed,

Prince Daemon Targaryen, Consort to Her Grace Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name

#when it breaks #what is broken #aemond fanfic #daemon fanfic #I’m hype yall

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 31

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of Daemon, whose loved her all her life.

TW: a dead body, helaena having more lines in this chapter than in the entire House of the Dragons series.

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty-One: The Pity

Ser Criston opens the large wooden doors of her room, mere seconds after a member of the guards had told him that someone or something had jumped out of the window.

He sees Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in blood. It pained him to see her in this manner, yet his eyes trailed elsewhere - searching for Prince Aelor who should've been crying right now.

Yet he could only hear silence.

A deafening silence that threatened to split his ears in half.

"Alyssa," he opened his mouth, piercing through the thick atmosphere. She laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling - unmoving, covered in purple bruises. "Alyssa," he repeated her name again, kneeling beside her - wrapping his arms around her like a father would his daughter.

The Pity.

"Alyssa," he repeated her name for the third time - hoping for a response. "- where is Aelor?" he asked staring deep into her purple eyes, ones that reminded him of Rhaenyra. Her eyes which were once filled with hope and happiness, were now devoid of any emotion.

Blankly, she points at the open window. Ser Criston paled. The war of ravens and letters have indeed ended, and there wasn't a thing in this world that could remedy a mother's grief.

It was the dead of night when Ser Criston Cole made his descent to the courtyard. There were a dozen servants surrounding the Prince's body, but he made sure to shoo them away. He was with Helaena when he wrapped Prince Aelor with a green cloth.

"Did you dream of this?" he asked, holding the small corpse close to his chest. "It doesn't matter, it's already done." Helaena responded, taking the corpse off his hands and into her arms. Whatever warmth radiated off her body could not bring the dead back to life.

"I've said it countless times, our family wants something that has never belonged to us." Helaena gritted her teeth, opposite to Criston, she could look at the body - she could stare deep into Aelor's crushed face. "- Alyssa will never forgive Aemond, not even in the afterlife." she added with utmost certainty.

Helaena fights the tears that threaten to leak out her eyes. This could've been Jaehaerys or Jaehaera, and she couldn't have done anything to prevent this. "There is tragicness in my dreams, Ser." she opened her mouth, reaching for Aelor's little fingers as if he was still alive. "- because it means reliving the same thing twice." she breathed, finally allowing the tears to leak out of her eyes.

"How will we tell your mother? Aegon?" Criston asks, eyes avoiding the piece of cloth carried by Helaena. "It is their callousness that has led to this, and we'll all pay our dues." she mumbled.

"We'll tell them in the morning, then. We'll keep things quiet, lest the news reach the Targaryens in Dragonstone. Prince Aelor was our bargaining chip to Daemon and Saera. Now, Rhaenyra has taken him away." he gritted his teeth, placing all the blame on his former lover.

"His death will bring more battles than you anticipated." her moony voice trailed off, and they began marching towards the castle. Criston was unsure if that was her observation or her vision. "My grandfather thinks that the war will only be between Aegon and Rhaenyra, but he is wrong - that much I know." she whispered.

Inside the castle were a few Septas waiting for the delivery of Prince Aelor's body. "Then, you must leave, my Queen." Criston pleads.

Helaena gives him a knowing smile.

"We'll pay our dues, ser." she repeated her previous statement, before fading from his view, covered by the Septas.

We all process our grief in different ways. Aegon drowns himself with wines and whores. Helaena keeps to her children and visions, but Alicent does not have time to mourn.

"Prince Aelor was murdered by mercenaries that found their way inside of the Red Keep. It is obvious that this act of terrorism was committed by Rhaenyra's forces." Otto opens his mouth to speak, still at a shock that Aelor died the night before. "- Aemond killed her son and now she has gotten her revenge. A son for a son." he added.

Alicent licks her lips.

It makes her a fool to sympathize with the enemy, right?

"Ser Criston Cole found Princess Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in her own blood - obviously shaken." Ser Otto further expanded on his thought. "Where is Aemond?" Alicent inquired. "The damn boy has always done as he pleased." Otto raised his voice.

"His son is dead - his wife is useless." he cursed.

"What is it that you want me to do?" Aegon raised his eyebrow. "A murder happened inside of your castle. Rhaenyra will not chafe her knees. We must force her now - Saera will turn against her. The perfect time for making allies." Otto placed a hand on the table.

Alicent shook her head unconsciously.

In disbelief at the recent turn of events.

"Victory has never been closer to us. If we play our cards right, we'll be mere days until the rebellion in Dragonstone is vanquished." Otto estimated and Aegon nodded his head.

"To war, then?" he smirked.

Four walls, a ceiling and a floor.

None of them were enough to contain Alyssa's grief. A few hours ago, she was taken from her room and moved to a part of the castle that she's never seen before. There was a layer of dust collecting on the windowsill. She hasn't moved for a long time now.

There was hardly anything written about losing a child, more commonly - the child got to bury their parent. It was nature, a parent and a child's life only meets halfway until the former dies and watches from the afterlife.

The same thing couldn't be said for Alyssa.

A knock on the door breaks her free from her thoughts, and Aemond enters the chambers. "Alyssa," his face is a mess - it looks like he hasn't gotten any sleep since he arrived.

Her gaze turned sharply in his direction. "What are you doing here?" her voice leaked with venom, and he takes a step backwards. She has never spoken to him in that tone before. "Is it true?" he asked, praying to the gods that it was just a rumor.

"It is your fault, and yours alone." she could not managed to raise her voice, but the venom remained. "I-I," he could not form his words. A single tear flowed down his eye, before he bolted away - slamming the door loudly.

Aemond was only ten and three when he lost his virginity. It was to a woman almost twice his age, a brothel-madam that Aegon forced unto him. He's never forgotten the incident, the whispers of protest that evaded his mouth - and now he goes to back to it.

"You're back," the woman raised her eyebrows. He collapses into her arms, wrapping her in a warm embrace. 'Coward' he insulted himself. His wife was grieving in Maegor's Holdfast. Aelor was cold in the crypts, and his family was mere seconds away from certain war.

He was here. He was alive.

Of all the people that deserved to die, why was he alive?

Her hands trailed down to his chest, removing his cloak and tunic. Unbuttoning it with ease. "You're safe," the woman whispered - silencing him with a kiss.

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

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Where There is Love, There is Life | Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Hold on tight | for @elriel-month 2024

Summary: it's Elains birthday

Warnings: birthday sex, oral sex (fem receiving) munch azriel, engagements, birthday parties, sex in a flower field.

Word Count: 5.7k | Masterlist

The morning starts much like every other in the Day court. The sun shines through her massive windows to illuminate Azriel’s wings from where he’s perched between her legs. Laying on his stomach, the light makes his eyes a beautiful gold-flecked caramel. Filled with so much love and life, she could barely breathe— or was that the doing of his tongue?

He teased last night that he would be waking her up with an orgasm for every year she’s been blessing this earth, and she just laughed it off. Now, approaching the 6th climax of the morning, she wasn’t sure how she’d make it to 25 without passing out! 

In the last few weeks, she’d come to understand that Azriel was a giver. He would pout if he didn’t get to make her finish at least twice before he did. He wasn’t a fan of ‘quickies’ because he couldn’t obsess over her pleasure the way he craved. And he preferred to have sex at night, knowing he’d get to hold her for at least 6 hours afterwards, unlike in the mornings when they had to bathe and be ready for breakfast immediately after. Today, however, was Elain’s birthday, and she decided to switch breakfast to brunch, which Helion was absolutely fine with as he was up late drinking with his son. 

Lucien has yet to leave the Day court, but thankfully, he is on the other side of the palace and out of earshot of what is happening in her chambers. Thank the mother, oh, thank the mother, indeed. 

She screamed out his name as she approached the height of another orgasm on her lover's skilled tongue. Back arching off the bed, hair a mess, sweat gathering behind her knees… she heaved a breath, clutched her breast and let go completely. 

And to think, just 2 weeks ago, she had never had an orgasm? 

With a hand in his hair, keeping it out of his eyes so they could stare at each other, she pulls him off her cunt— transfixed on the trail of slick and spit that connects her to his bottom lip. “Az…” 

“Yes, my queen?” His voice is so deep she realizes this is the first time he’s spoken this morning. 

“I can handle maybe 1 more,” she explains, her breathing still heavy as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. “And I’d like it to be on your cock this time.” 

He sits on his knees, wiping his face with his forearm and licking his lips— she does the same as her eyes trail down his chest in admiration of his naked form. Holy gods, how did she get so lucky to be bedded by a male like Azriel? To be loved by a male like him? To be his one true love match in the entire fucking world?! 

“How do you want me?” He asks. It is her day, after all. 

“Come here,” she beckons him closer. “I want to hold you; I need to feel you on me, in me… everywhere.” 

He hovers over her, brushing her hair off her face as he stares at her. “Your wish is my command,” he teases, gently kissing her cheek. Then, on the other cheek, her chin, nose, and forehand, she closes her eyes and gets a peck on each lid before he cups her face and plants one right on her mouth.  "Hold on, tight."

Oh, this was going to be a long morning. 

—

Walking through the shops on the main street of Solveig, the sun shines down on the white, sparkling pavement, making it look like it's been stuffed with diamonds. Azriel holds her hand the whole time, following her through shops that pique Elains interest until she stops dead in her tracks. 

“What is it?” Az asks. 

She spins him around, “You can’t look. I think I just found my dream wedding dress.” 

His brows raise, “I haven’t even asked you yet?” 

She tilts her head to the side, smirking, “I told you I want to marry you. It’ll happen eventually. When it does, I will wear the dress in that window display. So you need to go back to the palace.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Uh-huh,” she nods with purpose. “You have to go. Take the shadows with you. I need to buy this dress.” 

“Alright,” he gives in but pulls her in for one last kiss. “Just remember your party starts an hour before sunset… so don’t be out too long.” 

She shakes her head and kisses him again. “That’s just Azriel for you’re going to miss me too much,” she teases him between kisses. 

He hums against her mouth, not wanting to go at all.  She finally pushes back, “Okay, go. I’ll see you soon.” 

He sighs, “Fine.” He takes a step back. He doesn’t have the strength to simply walk away, so he winnows, disappearing before her very eyes. 

It takes her a moment to enter the store after that. It’s a lot to take in. She never got to buy a dress for her last would-be wedding, making this experience 100 times more real. A million times righter. This was the male she was always meant to marry. 

Her one true love. 

The dress is made with the classic day court iridescent fabric that perfectly catches the sunlight. It reminds her so much of the thread of hope that widowed fae in Vellaris wove through the void of her tapestry. That story moved her to her core. It made her think of Azriel and how his understanding of her powers drew her out of her mind before she went crazy. He is the bright light in a world of darkness… it's no wonder he’s surrounded by shadows. 

“Can I help you?” A beautiful fae asks as she rounds the corner of the display to smile at Elain. Her skin is almost purple its so pale, her hair a dark onyx. She is stunning but still not as beautiful as the dress. 

Elain nods, fingers twiddling with the fabric of the skirt; she can’t take her eyes off it. “I’m getting married soon…” 

“This would be the perfect dress for a day court wedding,” she exudes. 

“It’ll be in the night court,” she explains. “That’s where I live. I’m just visiting for a few weeks.” 

“I’m sure the stars will illuminate the fabric just the same as the sun does, if not more so. The undertones are purple and blue; the moonlight should make it pop even more,” she says, really selling it as if Elain wasn’t already certain. “Would you like to try it on?” 

“Oh, I would love to,” Elain lets out a deep sigh. 

The female takes her size, realizing the only dress left that would fit her is on the display itself. It takes a few minutes for her to take the dress off the manakin, which is perfect because it’s just enough time for her two best friends to walk into the store. 

The moment she sent Azriel away, she knew he’d send the wraiths to watch over her. Not trusting a shadow to keep her dress a secret, he knew his two best spies, Elain's favourite beings, would keep everything quiet until their special day. 

They haven't talked about the wedding much. They’ve agreed to have one when the timing is right. When they’re done dealing with the cauldron and the death lord who’s controlling her mate's true love. They don’t have a date, they don’t have a theme, she doesn’t even have a new engagement ring… yet she’s picking out a dress. 

“Elain, it’s beautiful,” Nuala swoons. 

Cerridwen can’t even find words. “What is that fabric?” She eventually asks. 

The sales lady smiles, “My sister-in-law is a weaver. She made this iridescent thread, and I was able to sew it into this holographic purple silk so that as the light hits, the dress looks three different colours.” 

“I think a purple wedding would be lovely,” Cerridwen places her hand on Elain’s back. “We can have wisteria and lavender!”

“Aster, butterfly bush, creeping plox!” Nuala adds. “It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever thrown.” 

And Elain couldn’t wait.

—

Rhysand and Feyre are the first to arrive, as always. Nuala and Cerridwen close behind, taking in all the bags and being shown their rooms by the day court servants. His shadows follow them to relay the message that Elain is alone in a dress shop, trying on wedding dresses and shouldn’t be alone. Her best friends should be there. 

Az barely has a chance to say hello to Feyre before she’s dashing inside with Nyx on her hip. "I'm sorry, he pees every time we winnow. I have to change him,” she explains in her hurry. 

Azriel smiles at Rhys; it’s the first time they’ve really been alone with one another since everything came out. “I’m sorry,” Rhys rushes out. “I shouldn’t have kept you from her. I stepped in, and it wasn’t my place. You were right about the cauldron, and I just couldn’t see it.” 

“It’s okay,” Azriel assures him. “At the end of the day, I now have the female of my dreams. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, Rhys… but I do know how you can make it up to me.” 

Rhys cocks his head to the side, scared for whatever he’s about to say. “If you want me to pay for—

Az laughs, “No, I’m perfectly good on funds. It is about the wedding, however. Would you be opposed to me giving Elain a ring from your family’s collection?” 

Puzzled, he simply asks, “Which one?” 

“Your mother used to wear this pink ring… the band is gold, it has a flower under the stone. She was wearing it that first Solstice we all spent together, the first time I felt like I had a real family. If you still have it, I’d like to gift it to Elain. I know your mother would’ve loved her,” Az explains. 

Rhys smiles, “You can absolutely have that one… and now that we’re all mated, it’s about time I told you and Cassian a secret she’s had me keep for hundreds of years now.” 

“What?” Az can’t believe it, 1 because when would she have made him keep this secret and 2, how could he, the spymaster, not know it already?” 

“Alongside all the dresses my mother made for my mate, there are a handful of dresses made for your mates. Surprisingly, the ones she made for Cassian's are all silver, shades of orange and forest greens. Your mates are pinks, purples and floral… it’s almost like she knew,” Rhys explains. “She’d want our mates to have something in common— apart from dealing with Illyrian babies all the time.” 

Az laughs, or else he’d cry, overwhelmed with love. “When we come home, I’d love to see them.” 

—

This is Elain’s second birthday in Prythian. Her second birthday as a fae. She had no idea what to expect after seeing the parties thrown for Feyre and even Nyx’s first birthday. Especially with Helion at the helm. 

She has Nuala rush her dress (which she paid for with Helion’s account like he said she should do when out and about) home to the night court and hide it in her own closet, somewhere Azriel would never dare look. Leaving Cerridwen to help her get an appropriate party dress and weave some flowers into her hair. 

Azriel admires her from the doorway to the bathing room. Leaning against the frame, he can see her reflection in the mirror she sits in front of. She can see him, too. They smile at each other, excited to spend the night dancing and drinking and happy— publicly and proudly around all of their family. 

She makes small talk with Cerridwen while staring back at Az. Filling her in on her training, the cool things she’s learned and how excited she is to teach them the art of manifestation through food! She’s been dying to get into the kitchen and stir in happiness and love and prosperity! Combining her love of baking and her need to make everyone around her happy will be life-changing… and now that Nyx is enjoying more meals, she can bestow him with wisdom and growing pain relief and courage as he starts to fly. 

“All done,” Cerridwen says, patting her shoulder. “I’m going to assist Feyre now.” 

“Thank you,” Elain says with a glowing smile. "Remember, you have tonight off, and you get to enjoy the party.” 

“We will,” Cerridwen nods before disappearing from thin air. 

“It’s so cool how they do that,” Elain raves. Standing from her chair at the vanity, she turns to see her one true love. “You look handsome this evening.” 

He blushes slightly, “you are stunning, my love. As always.” 

She walks over to him, her hand on his chest. He has a few buttons of his dress shirt open; wearing black in the summer heat meant he had to let his skin breathe a little… she loved it. “What did you get up to while I was shopping?” 

“I went home.”

Her brow furrows, “why?” 

He walks with her to the middle of the room and takes a step back. “I needed to get this,” he explains as he drops to one knee and a ring box appears in his hand. 

“Azriel?” She can’t believe it. 

“Elain,” he smiles up at her, eyes welling with tears. “When I was a little boy, I didn’t ever imagine I’d know what true love feels like… I had experienced love from my mother, from Rhys’ mother. From the brothers I made. Yet I always longed for more. For 500 years, I longed to belong to someone; I longed to be loved and cherished and understood. The moment I met you in that estate in the human realm, I knew. I knew what true love was. It was doing anything for your people, it was feeding strangers, it was kind words and stollen glances and brushed fingers. As I got to know you, as I sat with you when you healed, I realized there was no one else in this world I wished to learn how to be loved from than you. It filled me with such joy to see you heal and flourish and become who you were always meant to be and now… now you get to be mine. If you so wish.” 

She lets tears run down her cheeks as she listens, trying not to sob as her breath catches every few sentences. “I already am yours, Azriel. I have been for a long time.” 

He opens the ring box, displaying the most beautiful ring she’s ever seen. “This belonged to Rhysand’s mother.. She wore it on my first-ever Solstice with a real family. The first time, I thought my life could get better. I asked Rhys if I could give it to you, the female who I chose to be my forever. The female who would build a family with me.”

He takes the ring from the box, she extends her hand, and he slides it onto her ring finger. “I know I shouldn’t bring it up, but after the last one… I wanted you to have a ring that represented love and life and beauty, not death and fear.” 

She bites her lip, trying hard not to cry even harder. He’s right. This ring represents so much. Their relationship is built on love and trust, friendship and true bonding. Attraction, need, and true wanting. He is the love of her life, and she is his… and she gets him forever. A real forever. Not a measly 50 years if she’s lucky. 

Forever. 

—

They’re the last to arrive at the party, by Helion’s request. He wanted her to have a big entrance, to be cheered for as she entered the glen the way she deserved to be. 

In the last 2 weeks, Helion has become one of her best friends. She can’t imagine life without knowing him this intimately now. He’s the first to hug her as she walks in, taking her hand immediately after, leaving Azriel to trail them. 

He’s outdone himself. The field is beautiful, filled with tall grass and beautiful flowers. He’s cleared out a section to hold a few tables and chairs, a dance floor, and a platform for a small band that plays quietly as he shows her around. She has a pile of presents and a table filled with foods and cakes, and her family is all waiting patiently for their chance to hug her. 

Nesta is the first to rush to her, as it’s been two weeks since they last saw each other. They haven’t gone this long apart since Nesta’s time recovering in the house of wind. She holds her sister so close, breathing her in. She smells like safety and home. As she pulls back, she can’t stop smiling, “Thank you for coming.” 

“Anything for my baby sister,” Nesta teases. “Have you been having fun?” 

She nods, “I love it here.” 

“I’m trying to convince her to stay forever,” Helion teases. 

“That would ruin my present to her,” Rhys teases. 

Elain peaks around Nesta to look at him, “Oh gods, what did you do?” 

“You’ll find out.” 

“We should do presents now,” Morrigan jumps in. “Get it out of the way before we get too drunk to pay attention.” 

Everyone laughs, “Yes, I like that plan.” Amren agrees. “I’d like to give you mine first.” 

Taken aback, she blinks at her, “okay?” She didn’t expect a gift from Amren. 

They make her take a seat at the head of the table, saying they’ll each take a turn bringing her a gift. Amren places a large pink box in front of her. “I’ve had this for many years; I was never able to truly do anything with it. I believe you can, now.” 

She pulls at the blue ribbon, freeing the box so she can lift the lid off. Inside, she spots the clear sphere. “Oh my…” her jaw drops as she realizes what it is. “Are you sure?” 

“What is it?” Cassian asks, trying to sit up straighter to get a better look.

“A crystal ball,” Amren says with a smirk. “For our all-seeing, all-knowing friend.” 

“It’s beautiful,” Elain swoons, hand to her chest. “Thank you, Amren. I can’t wait to learn how to use it.” 

“I’ll add it to the lesson plans,” Helion teases as he approaches the table with her gifts on it. “My turn.”

He places box after box in front of her, overwhelming her slightly. “Helion, no… this is too much.” 

“It’s not,” he assures. “Open them, you’ll see.” 

Sure enough, inside, there is everything she would ever need to continue her training at home in the Night Court. Tarot cards, astrological charts, star maps, herbs and spices, dice, a sound bowl for her meditation and a few books on divination. It’s all the stuff she’s seen in his office and personal library. Hand-me-downs, if you will. 

“Thank you,” she raises from her chair to wrap him up in another hug. “Now I don’t have to find them in shops on my own.” 

Rhys simply places an envelope in front of her without saying anything. She hesitates, making worried eye contact with Az and then Feyre. Rhysand was an insane gift-giver. There was no price too large for him… so finding ownership of a plot of land on the Sidra was not a real shock. The papers have her and Azriel listed as owners, and from the address, she knows it’s a stone's throw from the river house.

She shakes her head at him, “You are crazy.” 

“You can build a home there. It’s close to your greenhouse on our property, so you won’t have to build another. I have an architect friend who would like to help you. You can build whatever you wish—a library, a spell room, a nursery…” Rhys explains.

Elain smirks, “Thanks, but you know I can’t have his baby.” 

“You can…” Nesta announces, looking awkward as everyone turns to her. “When I said I asked the cauldron to change our anatomy… I meant all 3 of us. I knew this was coming. You two are not subtle about how much you love each other. Since you took his hand and led him to the garden, I knew.” 

“But… but our daughter comes from Illyria?” Elain can’t fathom it. “I know we adopt her.” 

“There are more ways than 1 to make a family,” Lucien pipes up, the first thing he’s said to her. He smiles over at Helion, “Taking in a child in need is the greatest thing you could do.” 

Elain smiles at him, happy he knows his real father now. He's happy that in the last few days, he’s gotten to feel loved and know someone is proud of him. Their relationship has blossomed so wonderfully. “Thank you, Lucien.” 

“I brought you something you’ll actually like this time,” he teases, knowing now that she loved to get her hands dirty in the garden and those gloves were not suitable for her. 

He places a small box on her place setting, helping his father clear away all the previous boxes. As she opens it, the smell hits her. Sweets from the human lands. Her favourite sweets are the ones her father used to hide in his study to keep her from stealing. “Mother almighty!” She cheers excitedly. “Lucien, how did you know?” 

“Your father and Vassa chatted about quite a few things on our trip back; he mentioned your love for these,” he explains. “I have tried them too; they are quite delicious for human food.”

Cassian goes next, placing a bottle of her favourite brandy in front of her. “It’s old. Like older than me, old.” 

“Oo,” she takes it to read the label. “Oh, I’m going to have to open this later. Thank you.” 

Nesta hands her a gift bag with a well-known logo on the front. She's not been able to stop thinking about the weaver in the night court who made the iridescent thread. She pulls out the tissue paper so quickly, finding bundles of thread in the most interesting colours. 

“For your cross-stitching,” Nesta explains. 

“Thank you, these are stunning!” She compliments, placing them back in the bag. “I can’t wait to have some time to make something again.” 

Feyre is sitting there with Nyx on her lap, tugging at her hair, whispering to her. “Yes, we can,” she says with a smile. “You can say it.” 

“Me present!” Nyx announces, making them all laugh. 

Feyre waves it out her hand, summoning something to the table in front of them— it’s a handmade bouquet of paper flowers. Nyx takes them into his hands and Feyre stands up with him. They walk around the table to Elain who reaches out and takes Nyx into her arms, “did you make this?” 

He nods, pushing it towards her. 

“I love it; they are so beautiful!” Elain praises, kissing his cheek gently. “I will keep them in my room to look at them daily. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

He snuggles into her, resting his head on her chest. She holds him as close as she can without crushing his little wings. Resting her cheek on the top of his head, she’s missed her nephew so, so much. She was used to spending most of her days with him, babysitting while his parents had meetings or Feyre worked at the studio. Not having him around all day has been so weird, so she takes in all the love she can right now. 

Feyre pulls out a large present, wrapped in brown paper. It’s in the shape of a canvas… Elain is immediately nervous to see what moment of her life her sister has painted. 

“Can you—

“Of course,” Feyre starts to peel the paper off immediately so Elain can keep holding Nyx. 

Once the paper is off, Feyre turns the canvas around to present a scene she never expected. She cocks her head to the side, taking in the view as her smile builds on her face. “Wow…” 

Azriel is standing in front of her, dressed in his solstice best, taking the steaming tray of potatoes from her while she looks up at him in shock and awe. Her cheats heat as she stares at it… she had no idea she was that obvious at the moment. She looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars just for her, and she saw them every time she looked into his eyes. 

“I knew then,” Feyre explains. “The moment you ran out of the room to change, the way Azriel all but smacked the spoon out of Cassian’s hand so we’d all wait for you before eating… I knew you’d end up together.” 

She turns to find Az smirking, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. “It’s beautiful, Feyre.” 

“It’s perfect,” Elain adds. “Thank you, we’ll have to dedicate a whole wall to your paintings at our house.” 

“Who still hasn’t gone?” Helion asks, holding up a red box. 

“Oh,” Morrigan sits up. “Maybe… maybe don’t open that in front of the child.” 

Everyone turns to her with a cocked brow. “Why?” Elain asks. 

“All I will say is you can put it on later,” she teases, smirking. “I saw it in a shop window, all flowery and pink, and I knew it was perfect for you.” 

“That shop must make a killing from you,” Cassian teases her. 

“You might as well become a shareholder,” Rhys adds. 

“You should be happy I buy things you get to look at,” Morrigan snaps back. “If I remember correctly, you thanked me for the skimpy blue thing I got Feyre—

“Okay,” Feyre pipes up. “Small ears, remember?” 

Nuala and Cerridwen are the only ones left now; Elain looks at them, wondering if they want to give her their gift in private. She has her answer when they stand up and each place a card on her placemat. 

“These are vouchers,” Nuala explains. 

“For kitchen appliances,” Cerridwen adds. “So when you start building you can get that stove you’ve been talking about.” 

“Really?” Elain lights right up. “You didn’t have to?” 

“We know you will put it to good use,” Nuala praises. “You have been an excellent addition to our kitchen; we can’t wait to make your new space special.” 

“As long as you come and visit, it will always be special,” Elain swoons. “I love you… I love all of you. Thank you for this.” 

—

Everyone starts to leave the party one by one. Feyre and Rhys are gone first, taking Nyx to bed at an appropriate time. Nuala and Cerridwen disappear into the darkness, doing whatever it is they do in the middle of the night while everyone else is asleep. Cassian and Nesta stay to drink until they’re all over each other and snuck off to fuck somewhere they probably shouldn’t. Lucien and Vassa (whom he retrieved right after sunset) head back with Helion, taking advantage of her human hours to get to know each other better. 

And then there was just Elain sitting in Azriel’s lap on a blanket under the moon. 

“Here we are again, alone in the dark,” Elain teases. Kissing his cheek as she caresses his arm. Her fingers dance around to his back, to that spot at the base of his wing that makes him whine. 

“Only this time we’re confirmed soulmates,” Azriel teases. 

“There is no one else in this world I want to belong to.” 

Az kisses her cheek and her neck over to her ear, where he whispers, “Mine.” 

“Yours,” she breathes out, arching into his touch. 

He was quick to lay back and pull her on top of him, making out with her while simultaneously untying the back of her dress. Letting it slip down as he palms her breasts quickly. He bunches up the skirt, letting her pull back enough and put her arms up so he can lift the dress over her head and toss it aside. 

“I want to make this last,” she whispers as she pushes him back against the blanket, undoing his pants slowly and pulling them down. He abandoned his suit jacket a while ago and is now just wearing a barely buttoned shirt. Azriel lifted his hips to help her get his pants off, but she got stuck at his ankles. She has to untie his boots, slip them off, and chuck them to the side before his pants can come off. She undoes the last few buttons on his shirt, slipping it down his muscled arms and feeling up his hot skin quickly.  

She straddles his hips and sits down on him, grinding slightly as he moves forward on impulse. “Hi,” he whispered, shy all of a sudden with a rosy glow.

Elain puts both of her hands on Azriel’s cheeks. “Hi,” she replied before kissing him, pressing their lips together and breathing him in.

Azriel pulled away with a smile, “if you don’t mind, I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Oh good, here I was thinking we were making a fort,” Elain teased, a sassy tone and a cheesy grin plastered on her face. She was too infatuated for her own good.

Azriel was smiling just as much; he ran his hands over her ass, pulling her in closer, “You’re too talkative sometimes.”

“You love me.”

Azriel pushed her underwear to the side with a smirk, “unfortunately,” he teased while Elain closed her eyes and tilted her head back as his finger danced over her clit gloriously.

He flipped them around and settled himself comfortably to hover over Elain’s body while he pulled her panties down with his free hand. She helped him get them off and spread her legs as quickly as she could so he could resume what he was doing.

Playing with her clit before he slipped down to see how wet she was, his middle slipped right in, making him smirk harder. “Look at you,” it came out so low it was almost a growl. “My perfect girl.” 

She moans, tilting her head back and arching her hips forward for more contact. He adds another finger, pumping them in and out of her while his thumb rubs her clit. It feels so fucking good; his fingers are so thick and long, and his hands are so big and coarse, but somehow, this was the most glorious feeling in the world.

“Love you,” Azriel whispers before sucking a mark onto her throat, “so much.” he continues. “You’re a wonderful friend and sister, and now you’re mine.”

Elain couldn’t help but be cheeky today; she was too happy with everything happening in their life and a little too drunk not to be this funny. “I’d hope so; I don’t let just anyone fuck me, you know?” she teased.

Azriel laughed into her neck, “you’re a handful tonight,” he teased before kissing her mouth again. 

Azriel licks at her bottom lip, wanting more. Elain opens up, letting their tongues work together. She felt up Azriel’s naked back; his skin was silky soft like the sheets underneath them. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm as if they’d practiced this religiously over the years.

Elain hummed; Azriel pulled back, “You good?”

“Please let me ride you,” Elain all but begs.

They switched places again, Azriel lying down and Elain sitting on his legs again. She watched Azriel lube himself up with her wetness before she positioned herself above him. Slowly sinking down until she bottomed out, she was mesmerized by the feeling of taking him for the first time.

She rests her chest on Azriel’s, putting her forearms on Azriel’s shoulders and leaning in to kiss him once more. Azriel wraps his arms around Elain’s waist and pulls her in close while Elain starts to rock her hips a little.

All smiles, a few breathy moans and a lot of kisses. The birds in the trees were chirping, the light from the moon cascading over them and making them glow in the dark. It was just them in the little world they made together, one that fell together somehow after years of enormous personal tragedies.

She arches her back, switching the angle to get more pleasure out of their exchange. In doing so, she pulls away from Azriel’s mouth, panting in the air while Azriel lets her go. Holding her hips and guiding her back and forth on his cock with a watchful eye before one hand started to wander. Groping her chest, he reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra and help her out of it and immediately sucks one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she moans; it feels far too incredible to only ever do once. “I love you,” she announces. “So much.”

He snickers, “It’s about time you said it again.”

He pulls her in again, cradling her head and lower back as he carefully rolls them over. Settling on his knees, he holds her hips at an angle and fucks into her harder. She uses one arm for support before reaching between them to rub her clit, he looks close, and she wants to cum with him.

All she wanted was to be his from now on, “I’m yours.”

“Yeah? Say it again,” He asks, panting as he drives into her repeatedly. 

“I’m Yours! I belong to Azriel!” she shouts into the dark.

“God, I’m so close I’m going to fill you up so good.”

“Please,” she moans, grinding up to meet his thrusts and spreading a glorious feeling through her body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Wait,” he asks, moving her hand off her clit and fucking her a bit harder; his hips sputter, “fuck, I’m cumming.”

The feeling alone of him hitting her cervix is enough to send her over the edge, then she feels his cum start to fill her up. The pads of his fingers land on her clit, rubbing with intent as he fucks her through his orgasm.

After this morning, she didn’t think that she could cum so hard again, swearing she blacked out as he kept going even though her compulsions. Sweating like she’s just done a workout, panting like she’s been deprived of oxygen, she can’t believe that just happened.

Azriel collapses onto her, still inside her as his chest rests on hers. The coarseness of his chest hair is excellent, his head on her shoulder and his hot breath on her neck.

“I love you,” is the first thing Azriel says when he can finally speak again. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I love you,” she replies with a smile. “I’m yours. Forever”

@greenleaf777 @lostvillainess

General Taglist 

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[buriedknight]

i've noticed an interest for my old art with maria so i repainted it in an hour just for fun lady maria as a cainhurst knight

#bloodborne #lady maria of the astral clocktower #lady maria #cainhurst #vilebloods #i kinda love this au when she just #hangs out with the knights and the queen #bonds with them #she has nice time indeed #i hc her as an aroace btw so their bond has special vibe #my art

[geat-26]

Hi

So...I have an oc, a lemon oc. I really like her. She has no history yet, she doesn't even has a name but I wanted to show her anyway <3

Love her SM 💖🍋✨

#lemon queen 💖🍋✨ #artists on tumblr #digital art #oc art #oc #ok long story short (there is no history lol) she is a lemon “lemon Queen” and like You just see she is Indeed #a lemon :D #(Wanted to make that clear bc I liked the concept of that her “hair” is not that but petals of lemon trees!!) #Gotta Say that Even if I didn't make her a lore I already love her with all my heart

[maegalkarven]

A future fic carcass I'll write when I write (after I finish 9 ungoing fics)

King Viserys dies at the wedding celebration of his daughter, Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

No one else does.

I am a firm believer Otto and Viserys are the rot on the face of the House of the Dragon and without these two everything would be fine-ish.

Unfortunately, we need Vissy T for his kids to be born, so Viserys dies soon after Aemond is conceived. Sorry, Daeron, not this time.

Joffrey doesn't die because he doesn't manage to provoke Criston before the king dies.

Rhaenyra overrules his father's decision and marries Harwin Strong.

Their son Jacaerys Targaryen is the heir to the throne, Lucerys Targaryen is the heir to Harrenhal.

Daemon marries Laena and lives at Dragonstone (Rhaenyra grants him that), their firstborn is the heir of Driftmark.

Laenor joins the Queensguard and is sent to Dragonstone to protect Prince Daemon (ha) and his future heirs.

Criston Cole becomes the Commander of City Watch while still retaining his white cloak (what? He did it in canon, can do it here).

Rhaenyra removes Tyland Lannister as the master of ships and appoints Corlys Velaryon (back).

When Baela and Rhaena are born, it is decided to betroth Prince Aegon and Lady Baela, making him future lord-consort of Driftmark (and successfully removing him out of succession of the iron throne).

When Jace is born, his and Helaena's betrothal is announced.

Baelon is born without an issue and the royal family meets at the celebration on Dragonstone, where Aemond claims Cannibal and loses an eye in the process.

(Kinslayer, everyone. It fits).

Afterwards Luke is sent as a ward to Harrenhal with his father. A huge ass scene ensures there Luke clings to Aemond and refuses to go.

Aegon makes a greasy comment and gets punched.

Both Aegon and Baela are sent as wards to Driftmark.

Lucerys still leaves.

Harrenhal doesn't burn bc even if Larys kills Harwin and Luke, there's still Lyonel and Joffrey in the equation. Lyonel keeps serving Queen Rhaenyra as her Hand.

Years later the royal family meets at the wedding celebration of Baela and Aegon, where Luke and Aemond behave very much like Rhaenyra and Daemon at Rhaenyra's not happened wedding.

Rhaenyra and Alicent clutch at their pearls, Rhaenyra suggests father died because of seeing something like that.

Daemon asks if she implies they killed Viserys, then asks where is Baelon.

Laena replies Baelon is playing knights with Joffrey.

Rhaenyra and Harwin Strong (no) have three more children, Aegon, Viserys and Visenya, all silver-haired like their mother (her uncle).

Laena is fine with it, they have a poly. Laena doesn't have more children because Baelon's birth was a ghasty one.

Baelon claims the Grey Ghost.

Otto is never called back to the capital because (suprise!) Rhaenyra didn't rush to kill her 3 y.o brother or the other one who was born after Viserys' death. Instead she marries Aegon off so he's no threat.

Aemond eventually joins the Queensguard and is appointed to the future lord of Harenhall.

Lucerys refuses to marry and appoints his brother Viserys as his heir, who marries Visenya. They have a very good life in Harrenhal.

The reason Luke skips over Joffrey is because Joffrey is always at the sea (with Baelon), and Aegon the Younger is bethrothed to Baela and Aegon the Elder' firstborn, Laena.

Everyone lives happily ever after, Otto gets to be the head of the house Hightower after he successfully plots against his own kin, since his blood is secured on the throne, if in unconventional for him way.

He once tried to manipulate Aegon, but was cut off sharply by Rhaenys and Corlys, who kind of adopted the boy as theirs.

Aegon enjoys wandering about Essos very much, he, of course, whores around, but he and Baela have an agreement. One of Baela's children is born from Alyn of Hull, but no one is any wiser, since everyone just thinks the child looks like her.

Jacaerys and Helaena have three kids, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera and then Maelor.

Jaehaera is oldest and so is the heir.

Oh, and Rhaena is happily married to Corwyn Cobray. They have a daughter, Rhaenys.

#hotd #hotd au #queen rhaenyra #hotd fanfic #fuck viserys #i will write it one day bc i have such a vivid image of the scenes such as: viserys' death. rhaenyra overruling her father's decision #explaining it and trying to mediate it so Corlys wouldn't start another war #'i thought it was in the tradition for the king or queen to marry their hand's child' #the greens' FACES at that #rhaenyra gathering Laenor and his entire fam and suggesting queensguard #“but then he won't be able to wed a woman. have a family-” #-exactly *Rhaenyra and Laenor lock gases. she nods. he nods.* -i accept #Aemond just fucking WANDERING AWAY TO CLAIM THE SCARIEST ASS DRAGON THAT IS THERE #the total panic then Laenor finds him and brings back with EYE LESS. (he almost got to the castle but fainted mid way) #corlys trying to push for baelon as the heir and laena&rhaenys being: “NO” #the unspoken kinship in the house of whoring around. Harwin being like “i support my wife's wrongs” and loving egg vis and visenya as his #NO ONE KNOWING THEY'RE NOT HIS. LIKE LEGIT THEY COULD BE HIS OR HARWIN'S. EVEN RHARNYRA DOESN'T KNOW #aegon living his best life as a sailor and explorer #Aemond looking at Laenor and being like “i can do that too” #laenor living THE BEST LIFE by his sis and her husband/his friend's side. and Joffrey is ALIVE #criston eventually getting over himself and accepting that Rhaenyra indeed couldn't run away with him #like imagine if they run away and then vissy t died #whoops i guess #also i just realized i accidentally made it so that Harrenhal is eventually ruled not by Strongs but Daemon's kids #lmao i guess #They are Targaryens (tm) your honor #the amount of dragons they're about to have...like harrenhal has 4 just with luke aemond and visx2 #Dragonstone has 3 even if all kids scatter about #cobrays have 2 (Rhaena's and her daughters) #driftmark has at least 3 and then Laena is born and its 4

[grandmaster-anne]

19 September 2022 State Funeral of Queen Elizabeth II at Westminster Abbey © ITN

#i felt emotionally ready to rewatch some of the footages from the queen's death #so i'll be posting a few gifs from that time #it's still quite a bit upsetting #but the pain is bearable now #my hands don't tremble anymore #i've now come to accept the fact that she is indeed gone #but posting these gifs so her memory lives on #queen elizabeth ii #qe2 state funeral #princess anne #princess royal #king charles iii #prince william prince of wales #prince edward duke of edinburgh #prince richard duke of gloucester #peter phillips #david armstrong jones #prince andrew duke of york #prince harry duke of sussex #my gifs #queue

[aberooski]

so that surprise song mashup, huh

I AIN'T GOTTA TELL HIM I THINK HE KNOWS HE'S GORGEOUS !!!!! 😭😭😭

They are everything to me she has no idea but she did that for me I stg ✋😭

#AND I LOVE THIS SM 😭😭 #AUGH I'M SO NORMAL (lie) #ugh the way they just are lover and reputation too like fuck #like reputation is hard shelled and mean and scary on the outside but on the inside she's so emotional and vulnerable and kind and loving #the hard shell is a facade and it gives me chazz how he was at the beginning like his inauthentic self he had to be around others #as a way to cope with the pressure from his brothers and try and accomplish what they demanded of him #but in actuality he's a really sweet kid and is such a hopeless romantic and is just such a vulnerable soul who feels very deeply #but doesn't understand how to express that or to recieve it from others because of how emotionally stunted and neglected he was for so long #like he's so reputation to me #and atticus being lover is just so right too like lover is happy and glittery and colorful and fun and there's so much love there #but is also anxious and scared of losing that love and it's a deceptively sad album #and atticus is much the same as a person like he's summer incarnate that's what I always say and he loves so much and cares for everyone #so so much to the point where it can be self destructive for him. but that's just it he destroys himself with his love for others #I go back to him saying that nobody needs him anymore and that there's no one to protect after everyone is taken by darkness in season 4 #and how sad he is like he doesn't have a purpose anymore. he's afraid of losong the people that he loves #because they are his purpose for being at this point. he's been through so much and had his entire sense of self so shaken for a while #it's kinda fucked actually #but anyway.... atticus would also unironically adore ME! #hey kids spelling is fun indeed 😏 #I didn't mean to go off like that was not what I was expectinf myself to do but okay queen go off akaksksk #ugh they are my everything 😭 #yugioh gx #chazz princeton #jun manjoume #atticus rhodes #fubuki tenjoin #stormshipping #taylor swift #aberooski asks

[taichouu]

So one of my elder gay friends collects rare pokemon/ygo cards on occasion right and told me he has a rare Dark Magician Girl card he wants to give me ....

#tai talks #i was like. FOR FREE? and he said well yeah bc shes your queen #MY QUEEN .... INDEED.... SHE IS MY QUEEN....... #im not one to care about rarity or whatever i just like having cool cards #he is so cool we are watching drag race on saturday. OH AND SEEING A SHOW ON WEDNESDAY. #im going to canada w him in like a week...... cant wait..... eeeek

[nostalgia-tblr]

If I could do Fics With A Plot I'd probably attempt An AU Where Lauffey Dies And Odin Goes "Oh Hey, Frost Dudes, I Had Your Heir All Along :D He's Urs Now :D" Except Because This Is A Shit Plan It Does Not Go At All Well. Because it does bother me. Because I worry too much about fictional monarchies having the 'wrong' rules. D:

#this of course means odin has also has to tell his son “btw we lied to you. GUESS WHAT THO!! I GOT U A JOB!!” #and he sends Thor along because a) characters need other characters to talk to and b) he does in fact expect trouble #and I reckon after some sort of tense Confrontation about how if Lauffey wanted rid of his son he should have the guts to make sure he died #instead of leaving it to fate like a COWARD #Loki would - by power of poshness alone - manage to convince one or two Jotuns that he does indeed count as the heir #meanwhile: existential crisis D: D: D: #but hey free kingdom nothing to sneeze at eh? let's go! we can do this! #except (obviously) no. you can't. there is NO WAY there's nobody out there with a counterclaim. #and if your WORST ENEMY raised your new king (who has a questionable claim) you absolutely manage to find a third cousin from somewhere far #off who also has a shaky claim but - here's the thing - he's not an obvious attempt to impose Odin's puppet on your realm #and then Plot would unfold which is why i cant write this despite my Weird Niche Interests being aroused (NOT LIKE THAT) by this idea #also i would answer the “was there no mother involved? did she not mind the infanticide thing?” (could go either way on that really) #essentially Loki does have Scheming Politician energy but sometimes the task really is just impossible #but perhaps surprisingly the ending is a heartwarming reunion and maybe - MAYBE - some sort of vague apology #because that really was The Worst Fucking Plan Of All Time #okay someone stop me making a new file (you-and-whose-army.rtf) and writing the extensive notes i've now got in my head D: #(but an AU so not really!) #do you want a civil war on jotunheim because this is how you get a civil war on jotunheim #...oh no DO you want a civil war on jotunheim?! D: D: was THAT the plan??? D: D: #i'd totally throw in an Ambitious Consort Queen because those are my jam <3 <3 <3 #fic-related #thor movies

[nevermore-selfship]

Kiss glimmer do it now

FUCKING

G L A D L Y

#SO MANY KISSIES FOR MY SPARKLY QUEEN #she has a very fuckin kissable face and that is indeed one of the GAYEST THINGS ive typed out for this character #otp: sparkle in my eye

[fantasy-costco]

Yesterday we went to a rodeo themed pride event and the drag queens were all preforming as country stars and they were so incredible but I'm specifically going to be losing my mind about the queen preforming as Reba McEntire for the rest of my fucking life

#The announcer said Reba McEntire and I shouted THAT'S MY MOM without thinking I LOVE REBA #And you KNOW we got Dolly Parton I don't even have to say that but listen listen listen watching someone do a drag prefomance #To a club mix of fancy changed me as a person I am CHANGED #The queen doing Carrie underwood did not do either of my favorite Carrie underwood songs (good girl or cowboy Casanova) but she was still #Incredible oh my god #Literally amazing fucking incredible I love you intersection of queer and southern identity I love you pride I love YOU REBA MCENTIRE #God bless em for wearing those heels indeed #(<exposing myself as a closet country music fan LISTEN I grew up in Texas and I love songs about angry women)