#eyris pearl

[rosemary1315]

SU OC: I'm glad you're beside me

[Update: December 1, 2023]

I draw my SU OC couple, Alan Madison and Lisa or Eyris Pearl.

He felt good that his girlfriend, Lisa (Eyris Pearl) came into his life and was beside him.

#Steven Universe #Steven Universe OC #Alan Medison #Eyris Pearl #My OC #My Artwork

[rine-of-aqua]

It's been a while, but I wanted to draw all my gem ocs together. From left to right we have Jet, Amber, Red Spinel, Aquamarine "Rine", Eyris Pearl and Dragon Vein Agate. I miss them all and it felt good to have them all together.

#gemsona #steven universe #Aquamarine #red spinel #dragon vein agate #jet #amber #eyris pearl #rine

[cyclic-laughter]

i am back ! so i made this drawing a few weeks ago, actually it was back in april so about a month ago by this point, and its of two pearl ocs i've had for a few months now! their names are gold akoya and eyris :)

they both serve separate reefs and are almost polar opposites in terms of personality lol, eyris is disobedient and more resemblant of a rebellious teenager while gold akoya is fidgety but cooperative

#steven universe #gem ocs #gem oc art #steven universe oc #su oc #gem oc #**eyris pearl #**gold akoya pearl #**lokie art

[impossible-rat-babies]

plate #14 👀

me :handshake: you in using the same shirt for a machinist glam

#i can't get over how good the shire machinist gun looks pearl white so i've been using it as a glam piece for ages #fkjsdkf i got this glam and haven't played machinist much since lmao #ty azia ily!!!! #oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv

[ichorai]

amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout. 

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle. 

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready. 

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through. 

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him. 

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips. 

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie. 

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were. 

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach. 

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes. 

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong. 

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath. 

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically. 

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep. 

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude. 

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale. 

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince. 

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him. 

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic. 

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet. 

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself. 

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing. 

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you. 

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame. 

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room. 

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread. 

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened. 

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide. 

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you. 

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…” 

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours. 

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift. 

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you. 

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else. 

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall. 

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner. 

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent. 

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed. 

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck. 

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted. 

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need. 

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit. 

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure. 

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure. 

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.” 

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock. 

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. 

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit. 

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream. 

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses. 

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids. 

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone. 

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before. 

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven.  Yours, Jace

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon fluff #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (55) (End)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, giving birth, breastfeeding kink, mention of trauma, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

I am touched, this is my longest story, my beloved child, my beloved couple. This story of mine was probably the most successful and brought me a lot of joy, your involvement made me want to keep writing. I feel like I'm ending at the right moment, just as I wanted, and I hope you won't be disappointed. I remind those in despair that I still have stories from The Impossible Choice AU to write. I also recommend reading Brother, Lover, Son and The Pearl and The Sapphire, because these are also stories from this universe. Thank you all for such a wonderful response!

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She wasn't sure she'd ever been as horrified in her life as she was when she realised her husband had lied to her. After he left the wedding feast, as she waited for him in his chamber she finally asked the guards standing at her door if they knew if he was still in the Small Council hall.

They looked at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable, one of them swallowed loudly and said it was impossible.

They did not explain to her why, but she understood that her husband had hidden something from her, that he had planned something and gone away, left her. Her head was buzzing with his question that he had asked her before he left, she could see his gaze, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"You know that I love you."

Only then did she realise it was a kind of farewell.

A farewell in case he didn't come back.

She felt as she had that night when his army had set out with her father to Eyrie only for her to suffer such a painful loss and she shuddered all over at the thought, huddled against her pillow, that the same thing awaited her this time. She began to cry loudly, terrified, unable to calm herself, her child in her womb moving restlessly, sensing her condition.

She was unable to fall asleep, but she was also too tired to think logically in the morning so she persisted in lethargy, breathing hard, recoiling at every louder sound, hoping it was him.

Finally the door opened and he stood there, his white hair, his face, his hands, his armour all in blood.

She covered her face with her hands trying not to scream, horrified at the thought that it could have been his own blood, that he was wounded, and just stared at him with big eyes, unable to get a word out.

There was a kind of emptiness and weariness in his gaze.

He approached her slowly and the door closed quietly behind him. He knelt in front of her with a loud clatter of his metal armour and embraced her gently, tenderly, cuddling his cheek against her abdomen, only then did she feel him tremble all over.

"It's done." He whispered in a hoarse, low voice while looking somewhere in the distance, and she felt a tightening in her stomach mixed with relief and horror.

It's done.

Her lip trembled as an involuntary question escaped her lips.

"Are they dead?"

Her husband swallowed hard, clenched his eyes as her hands stroked his hair, she felt him seek comfort in her arms, consolation, an escape from what he had done, what he would have to face every day from now on.

"Yes."

She didn't ask him anything else. She didn't ask him how they died, who killed them, if they suffered much.

She didn't want to know that.

She didn't want to think about it.

"You must take a bath, my love." She whispered, kissing the top of his head, and he sighed quietly, as if relieved, as if afraid that the scale of his act, the enormity of the sin he had brought with him would make her push him away.

She knew he needed her like never before.

She did not let him out of her arms, letting him snuggle into her womb as she called their servants and ordered them to prepare a tub of hot water. As they did so she combed her fingers through his hair, whispering to him that he was brave, that there was no other way, that he had protected her and their child, his family, that he had to do this.

She told him everything he needed to hear to keep him from going mad with despair.

She felt his tears on the skin of her arms, felt that his body was shaking, that the realisation of what he had done was slowly reaching his mind along with the adrenaline and overwhelm leaving his body.

"Joffrey…" He muttered and pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold back the feeling that was building up inside him, and then he burst out sobbing.

She felt a tightening in her throat at the thought of that little boy, at the thought that both he and she knew he was a child who had nothing to do with these events, was no different from Jaehaerys.

"− shhh − I know − I know − I know, my beloved − I am with you −" She whispered and leaned towards him so as to enclose him in the embrace of her body, his head pressed from the side to her abdomen and from the top to her breasts, her hands stroking his neck and wet cheeks, her lips kissing his hair.

Slowly he began to calm down, ashamed of his weakness and what he had shown her he finally grunted and stood up. She helped him take off his armour, then his chemise and trousers. He stepped into the tub of hot water and let out a loud gasp of air, as if he didn't believe he was back.

That he was alive.

Just as she had done before, just as she had done then, at the beginning of their marriage, she began by washing his head, the blood from his hair and body staining the water red. She felt him lift his hand back and run his fingertips over her arm, as if he needed to feel the touch of her body, needed to be physically reassured that she was with him, that he was not alone.

She knew he was scared, that what he had done was crushing him and that she needed to be there for him.

She tried not to think about it, to push the doubt and remorse away, knowing that she had to be his pillar, his strength, that he could not see hesitation in her. He needed to feel that he had made the right choice, that she did not despise him, that nothing had changed.

After his bath, she helped him get dressed in clean clothes. Even though it was morning and they should be eating breakfast, she led him to their bed holding his hand, and lay down with him.

"Try to sleep, my dearest. I will be with you all the time." She said softly. He hummed under his breath and nodded, laying down beside her, cuddling his face between her breasts. She placed her chin in his hair, embracing him tightly, stroking him, and began to quietly sing him the lullaby her mother used to hum to her when she was a child.

She felt his tense body slowly relax, felt him cry again, and then after a time that lasted an eternity for her he finally fell into a restless sleep.

Word of Aegon's severe burns reached her quickly and she decided to visit him with her husband, knowing better than anyone else what he was going through. As they entered his chamber Helaena was watching over him, rising from his bed and smiling at them.

Aegon's face was almost entirely covered in bandages and she felt an involuntary tightening in her heart at the sight.

Despite what he had done, she felt sorry for him.

"How are you feeling, brother?" She asked softly and he glanced at her, warmth in his gaze by the way she called him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Not only am I disgusting on the inside, now I'm disgusting on the outside." He laughed, but no one responded to his words. They talked for a while, and then Aegon surprised her with his words.

"I would like to speak in private with my brother."

She and Helaena left his chamber and moved ahead with a slow step, now that she knew it was over, that nothing threatened them anymore, she suddenly felt a gigantic relief, as if she realised that she was safe, that she could calm down at last. She looked at her companion.

"Is he good for you now?" She asked, Helaena looked at her with dreamy eyes.

"Yes. Yes, a lot has changed in him. I regret that it is only now, but… well, I am glad that after the death of our son, I and my daughter find comfort in his arms." She said quietly, looking around, distracted, immersed in her own thoughts. She involuntarily smiled at her words.

"I'm really glad."

She decided not to return to her husband's chamber, but to visit Royce and his new wife. She reasoned that since the danger had passed, she no longer needed to fear anything and lock herself in his quarters like a prison.

She stood outside her brother's chambers and asked the guard to announce her. The man went inside, and after a moment came out and said that Lord and Lady Baratheon would welcome her.

She went inside with a smile, stroking her pregnant abdomen contentedly. Royce stood up, extending his hands to her, and they threw themselves into each other's arms, embracing each other tightly.

"I've heard about what they have done. Gods, why didn't they tell me anything?" He asked, glancing at her, and she sighed heavily.

"I suspect it was all about the surprise effect. My Lady. My congratulations on your nuptials." She said softly and nodded at the young woman who stood up from the table, her dark hair braided, a grey-blue long, simple gown with wide sleeves on her body, she wore no jewellery.

Even so, she must have found the expression on her face pleasing, her mouth was full as was her shape, there was something curious and magnetising in her eyes.

"Thank you, my Lady." She answered her and also nodded. She glanced at her husband, moving towards the entrance.

"I'll leave you alone. Husband." She said lowly and calmly, nodding at him, embarrassment and something she couldn't decipher ran across Royce's face. When she left, they both sat down at the table, Royce grunting away while combing his hair quickly with his hand.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling well." She said quietly, looking at him intently, unsure if he was happy or not.

"Oh, I feel fine." He said quickly, pouring himself a cup of wine and grunting loudly. She blinked, looking at him intensely.

"Are you content?" She asked finally. He lifted his gaze to her and pressed his lower lip tight. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"I…I've had close-ups with various women, but she…gods, I don't even know how to put it, I've never experienced anything like this. She's very experienced, I can only tell you that much." He mumbled and she saw with surprise and amusement that he was all red, he had trouble looking into her face, clearly overwhelmed by the memories of his last night.

"So… you're content." She finished at last, and he pressed his lips together and grunted again.

"I…yes, I think so."

When she returned to her husband's chamber he was already waiting for her, sitting in a chair right by the fire, his eye piercing her, focused and anxious.

"Where have you been?" He asked coolly and she sighed quietly, approaching him slowly. Her abdomen was still swelling, and she was getting tired of walking more and more quickly, but sitting wasn't any more comfortable for her.

"I visited my brother. He is pleased with his new wife." She said softly and touched his hand with her fingers. "I thought that since my husband has ensured that the danger has passed, I could visit him."

Aemond looked at her watchfully, and after a moment he hummed under his breath and nodded, accepting her words and explanation. His gaze fled to the fire again, her hand tightening on his skin.

"What did your brother want?"

Her husband was silent for a long time, his whole body as tense as a string. He swallowed loudly, running his fingers over his chin.

"He said he wants to relinquish the throne to me." He said lowly, and she looked at him in shock, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad. "That as he is now, he cannot rule the kingdom or represent it physically."

There was a silence between them full of tension, his gaze finally lifting to her, wanting to see her reaction.

"Did you agree?" She asked quietly. She had the feeling that his gaze was piercing her deeply, that he knew her enough to be aware of her every doubt, her every thought.

His silence seemed to last her an eternity.

"No."

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth, looking at him in disbelief.

She felt a sense of relief.

"Why?" She asked in shock, and he murmured under his breath, stretching out his hand on his armrest, straightening and clenching his fingers as he always did when he was thinking hard about something.

"Because I promised the gods that if they spared you I would give up my hopes for the crown. They kept you alive then, in Harrenhal, and they kept you alive in the Red Keep. I have grown to think that the gods do not want me to be king. My current role suits me. As the Hand of the King and Prince Regent, I will rule in his name until his condition improves. I told him I want something else in return." He said, entwining their fingers together, stroking her soft, warm skin with his thumb.

She felt heat in her heart at his words, at the thought that he still remembered that vow, that he truly believed that through his sacrifice the gods were watching over her.

"And what do you want?" She asked softly, and he lifted his gaze to her, a disturbing glint in his eye.

"Dragonstone."

When they finally moved to Dragonstone she moved with difficulty, the heat was unbearable for her and she demanded a cool bath as soon as they reached the place. Before their arrival, Aemond had the chamber in the underground where Luke was last seen completely cleaned and sealed.

When she finally sank into the icy water she breathed a loud sigh of relief, her husband strolling through their chamber with evident satisfaction.

She knew that he had at last won a coveted inheritance, something to pass on to his descendants that was his. She knew he had been waiting for this moment all his life. When he looked at her at last she smiled at him.

He hummed under his breath and approached her unhurriedly with his hands folded behind his back, gazing intently at the indistinct outline of her body that he could see beneath the sheet of water.

He knelt by her tub and took her hand in his, pressing it to his lips. He stroked her wet skin with his thumb and let the air out quietly through his nose.

"Just a few more weeks." He whispered, and she nodded.

She did not want to be alone at such a difficult time and asked that Cassandra come to Dragonstone to keep her company. Helaena and Alicent had also announced their passage, so that she was not as afraid.

She saw him press his lips together, looking at her stomach. She knew what he was thinking about, she knew what he feared.

He was afraid that she would die.

That she had not been taken from him by fire or by an assassin, but would be ripped from him by her labour, just as it had taken wives from husbands for hundreds of years, just as it had taken Aemma from his father.

She stroked his face, seeing his worry and tension.

"Be of good cheer, my beloved." She whispered tenderly and he nodded, kissing her hand again.

She felt her first intense contractions at the table when they were eating dinner together, as they did every day.

Her husband was telling her about a new book he had read about the history of the First People, and she listened intently and contentedly until a wave of pain went through her body. She dropped her cup and rose suddenly, catching her stomach, her husband froze in mid-motion.

"What's happening?" He asked terrified, unable to move for a moment.

"I think it's starting." She muttered, and then felt something warm run down her thighs.

She began to cry in his arms as he carried her to their chamber, for Cassandra, Helaena and Alicent were only due to arrive in two days. True, the midwives and maids were by her side, but it wasn't the same.

"I don't want to be alone." She whined quietly and he looked at her despairingly, laying her down on the bed, the women around her began to untie her gown to help her.

"…do you want me to stay with you?" He asked uncertainly, and she swallowed with difficulty and wept loudly, feeling another powerful spasm.

Aemond turned his face away, unable to look at her suffering, not knowing how to behave, not having any knowledge of these women's affairs that always took place behind closed doors.

"Get out." She said finally, grabbing her stomach, she felt him throw her a shocked, uncertain look. "Get out, I don't want you to look at this."

She exhaled, not wanting him to be disgusted with her, so that later, thinking of her, all he could see was that sight, the sight of a ripped flesh full of sweat, blood and bodily fluids.

He, however, did not move from his place, his hands clenched into fists, horror in his gaze.

He didn't know what to do.

She didn't have the strength to think about it, hot sweat was running down her whole body, she felt like she was on fire. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally left in just her nightgown, one of the servants put a pillow under her back and another applied a cold compress to her forehead.

The midwife sat down in front of her, parting her legs with her hands, peering between her thighs.

"When I tell you, my lady, you will begin to push. Do you understand?" She asked softly, she was a plump, blushing woman, her voice gentle and warm.

She imagined with tears in her eyes that this strange woman was her mother, and that the maid rubbing her forehead was her sister, and nodded quickly.

Without even looking at him, she knew that her husband was still standing by their bed.

She felt relief and horror, gratitude and rage at the same time.

The pain and contractions began to become more intense and followed each other faster and faster, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body in readiness for the tremendous effort that awaited her.

She wondered if she would survive it.

"Push, my lady!" The woman called out, and she clenched her eyes shut and, with a loud whine of effort, tried to force her child out of herself. She felt something move inside her and she threw her head back, panting heavily as she felt tears running down her cheeks.

"Very well. Breathe, my lady, deep, full breaths." The woman spoke to her, and she nodded, trying to focus only on her breathing, on the way the air flowed through her chest.

"Push!" She called out again, and she clenched her hands on the bedclothes around her and cried out loudly, feeling the searing pain, her baby's head trying to squeeze through her tight walls.

She fell backwards panting all over, heard a sudden movement beside her, her husband's hand tightened on hers, his gesture of support and terror, his gesture of closeness, his sign that he was there for her.

"Yes, just like that. And again. Push!"

It felt like it went on forever, she was one big sweaty, weeping mess, she clenched her fingers on his hand so tightly she felt like she was going to break his fingers, her heart pounding like crazy.

"I can already see the head, my lady! Just a little more! Push!" She squeezed her eyes shut and a whined in effort and pain as she made her body to force her offspring out.

Suddenly she felt something flow out of her, a sudden lightness and relief filled her, the midwife caught something red in her arms.

"There he is, my lady, look what a beautiful baby boy!" She said, wrapping the small creature all smeared with blood in a clean white cloth, wiping him slowly, and she laughed with joy and relief as she looked at her child's face.

Her son had dark Baratheon hair.

She turned her head towards her husband, wanting to see his reaction, his joy at the sight of their child, but she saw that he was crying without even looking in that direction, his wet cheek pressed against her hand, his fingers clenched on her skin trembling all over.

She felt her heart squeeze at the thought that he was rejoicing that she had been alive.

When their first shock had passed, when she had been changed into a clean chemise and the bedclothes had been changed, when she had lain back in bed, her son had at last been given to her, having already had his first bath, wrapped in a warm, bright blanket, his tiny arms and legs squirming vigorously when he felt her proximity, as if he recognised her immediately.

She felt a bond, a love, a tenderness, looking at his little chubby pink face, his scent was wonderful and addictive.

She looked up contentedly and saw her husband's proud look, an almost invisible smile on his face. He stood over her with his arms folded behind his back, preferring not to touch such a small creature for the time being, watching his interaction with his mother.

They had agreed that if a girl was born she would name her, and if a boy was born, he would name him. She knew exactly what name he had chosen, but she asked him anyway.

"Daeron."

It was only at night, when they were finally alone, that her husband lay down beside them in just his chemise, looking intently at the little being sleeping in her arms. She cradled him looking at him with tenderness, thinking that he was the most beautiful child she had ever seen in her life.

"He has your eyes." She whispered and he hummed with contentment at her words as he carefully put his arm around them, pressing his temple against her forehead. She felt him place a kiss on her cheek and on her jaw, felt him inhale her scent.

"You were so brave, sweet wife. I have never been more proud of you." He whispered tenderly, and she felt the heat spread through her heart. She looked up at him, brushing the tip of her nose against his and they kissed, warmly, softly, their lips moist and swollen.

They spent the next few weeks getting used to the changes in their lives. Her wounds healed slowly and after only a few days she was able to get up, much to the displeasure of her husband, who wanted her to avoid straining herself.

The cold stone walls of Dragonstone suddenly became cosier when the baby's babbling filled them, their son was loud and constantly laughing, overjoyed at their constant presence.

Aemond didn't want to be like his father, and though he was afraid to pick him up, he often looked in on him just to touch him, to make sure he was safe.

She saw him watching out of the corner of his eye as she fed their son, finding it a very intimate and private sight, his wife holding his heir at her breast, giving him life, tending to his legacy.

She knew he craved her, saw the way he gazed greedily at her breasts, but dared not demand anything of her after seeing their son tear her flesh.

However, when her wounds had healed and she was no longer in discomfort, when she told him he could touch her there, he threw himself at her like mad, his tongue deep in her throat, his hands ripping her chemise from her body.

They were both panting loudly, kissing each other greedily with a sticky, wet click, she felt him grab her hips and settle her on top of him, quickly untying his trousers, they didn't have time to be embarrassed by how much they needed it, that they just wanted to fuck.

"If I don't cum inside you soon I'll die, sweet wife." He gasped affectionately, his voice trembling with desire, and she kissed him again, clamping her hand in his hair, the other guiding his length to her entrance, slowly lowering herself onto him.

They both moaned piteously loudly, his hips beginning to impale her on his manhood again and again, filling her with himself, shivers of pleasure and heat passing through her.

She pressed her forehead against his, rising and falling against him, their bodies slapping against each other hard and fast, the lewd click of their shared juices echoing through their chamber.

"− can I taste you? − " He whispered so quietly that for a moment she wasn't sure she heard it, his hand involuntarily cupped her full breast filled to the brim with milk, she mewled in pleasure as she felt him begin to play with her nipple in his mouth.

"− yes −" She exhaled and moaned loudly, aroused by this perverse act, his lips clamped tightly around her nipple began to suckle, she heard the loud sound of him swallowing.

She clenched her hand in his hair pressing his face closer to her, feeling her walls begin to throb on his length that he pushed into her body with each of his deep thrusts, she was embarrassed by how surprisingly pleasurable it was.

"− oh, Aemond − yes −" She mewled as she struggled to fall and rise on top of him, their bodies slapping against each other with each violent movement of their flesh, his lips pulled away from her nipple with a loud plop, he licked his lips as he looked at her with a misty gaze.

"− so fucking delicious −" He breathed out and she whimpered softly, feeling his words between her thighs, not having the opportunity to answer him, his lips pressed against her other breast, repeating everything from the beginning, her nails tightened and ran over his naked back, she heard his loud purr of pleasure between the loud sounds of swallowed milk.

"− Aemond − it feels so good − oh gods −" She cried out loudly and tilted her head back, coming harder than ever in her life, he moaned low into her breast without releasing her from his mouth, she felt his hot semen spill inside her a moment later, they were both panting and moaning loudly, she wasn't sure she had ever experienced such an intense, long orgasm before.

He finally released her breast from his mouth, pressing his face to her chest, panting along with her. She stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head, purring with delight as she felt his manhood pulsing inside her in fulfilment.

"− will you let me do it again? −" He asked in a trembling voice full of embarrassment and guilt, as if he had done something lewd and unthinkable, as if he feared she would now be ashamed of him. She kissed his hair at his question.

"− yes −"

From then on, his perfect place in the world was to be deep inside her with his mouth pressed against her breast. They both knew that there was something even more intimate than usual about this act, some kind of taboo, unmistakable intimacy that could not be replaced by anything else.

She tried not to burst out laughing when one day at breakfast he asked her feigning indifference when she would lose the milk in her breasts, and she answered him that her body would continue to produce it as long as she breastfed.

She then saw the shock and the glint in his eye, he bit his lower lip involuntarily, unable to hide his expression of delight at this information.

They were closer together than ever.

The birth of their son reassured the entire kingdom, for in the event that Helaena did not bear Aegon another son, there was a young heir to the throne alive who would take over after his father.

When she spoke to her husband it seemed to her that he was made to be the Hand of the King, his advice always cool and recalcitrant. To her surprise, Aegon finally learned to use them and became a better king than she would ever have expected.

Daeron was a calm, joyful infant. He soon began to chatter, making his own unspecified sounds and syllables, bringing joy and laughter into their fortress. Her husband read to him a lot, and he stood in his little wooden bed with railings and hopped softly on his feet, delighted.

He adored him.

She had to keep repeating it to him because he didn't believe it, but his son was drawn to him, forever longing for him when he headed to the Red Keep for meetings, he would reach out his chubby hands greedily to him whenever he saw him return.

Although outwardly he was stern and cold towards the servants and guards, when he locked himself with them in their chamber he changed into a different person.

He would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, say he heard Joffrey crying from the underground and frighten her, breathing hard. She tried not to show it, hugging and stroking him until he fell asleep again.

She knew that these events would never stop haunting him.

When morning set in, the first thing after checking with a touch of his hand that she was lying next to him was to see if Daeron was asleep in his bed. He would sometimes get up in the night to check that he was breathing and, reassured, would only return to further sleep, embracing her from behind and snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck.

She was overwhelmed with happiness when her brother sent her a letter from Storm's End informing her that his wife was expecting a child.

From what she understood their marriage had been quite successful and peaceful, her character proving far more calm and composed than her brother had originally assumed. She renewed herself in Storm's End, happy to still be close to the sea.

As the time approached for her to give birth, she asked her husband to fulfil his promise that he had made to her when they were in Harrenhal and for them to travel to Storm's End.

Travelling on a dragon's back with a small child seemed too dangerous for them, so they set off in a carriage, patiently enduring the hardships and length of the journey.

When they arrived she felt a strange tightness in her throat as she watched the round throne room where her father had always sat, and now her brother sat in his place.

He stood up happy to see her, kissed her cheek and stroked the head of her son whom she held in her arms, Daeron giggled happily and began to squirm again, bursting with energy.

"I see my nephew is growing fast. How these children are changing! He was such a little baby not so long ago." He said gushing with enthusiasm, clearly delighted at the prospect of becoming a father himself. She smiled broadly at his words, glad to see him, glad to be home.

Royce looked at her husband, who was standing behind her, and nodded. Aemond reciprocated the gesture, but they did not say a word to each other.

She felt memories hit her from every direction and she was moved. She had insisted that they sleep in her old chamber during their stay even though it was small her husband agreed without a word.

When they went inside their belongings and their son's cot were already standing. Aemond had only been there once, on the night he returned from Winterfell and left abruptly after their argument, so he had no time to look at anything closely.

He looked through her books curiously, looked out of her windows, looked around, and she thought fondly that he had tried to imagine her life before she met him.

Before he had chosen her.

"Would you like to see my mother's crypt?" She asked softly. He looked at her and nodded.

They descended into the underworld with the torch he held in his hand. Although the web of corridors beneath the fortress was complicated, she knew this path by heart, having often gone down there as a child, asking her mother for advice from the heavens.

After a short walk among the stone statues, they arrived in front of the one she remembered so well. She felt a tightness in her throat, burning tears in her eyes as she saw a familiar sculpture, a stone female figure that was supposed to resemble her mother, but did not even partially reflect her beauty.

She approached it and touched its cold surface with her hand, her husband remained silent.

"Mother, this is my husband, prince Aemond. Forgive me for not introducing him to you earlier. He chose me against my and my father's will, but I did not know then how much I would love him. I didn't know that…" She broke off, feeling her voice break, Aemond moved beside her restlessly, swallowing loudly.

"...I didn't know we would make it, I didn't believe I would be as happy as you were with my father. Thank you for watching over me, for listening to my prayers and making the gods send me the husband I asked for." She finished in a trembling voice, choking on her own tears, feeling that only now, two years after these events, did she truly understand what had happened, what she had experienced, what she had gone through, what a long and difficult path it had been.

She heard him come up to her, putting his torch down on the stone ground and embraced her, hugging her to his chest. She felt his heart pounding fast, felt that he was unable to get a word out. He kissed her hair and pressed his face to the top of her head, standing with her like this in the warm light of the fire.

"I thought it was impossible for someone to love me. I thought it was impossible for me to love someone. I thought it was impossible for me to make a good choice when I came here on Vhagar's back..." He whispered, and she clenched her hands tighter on the material of his leather jacket, his warmth, his familiar, wonderful, calming scent spreading through her lungs.

"...and then I saw you."

______

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond kinslayer #aemond targeryen angst #aegon angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst #hotd angst #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell smut #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #ewan mitchell fandom #aemond fandom #house of the dragon fandom #hotd fandom #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x wife

[airanke]

First pass concepts for Dabi/Abiteth/Touya if they were Gems from Steven Universe!!! I'm getting a little better at mimicking different styles :)

A lovely Anon here asked me what a Dabi/Abiteth gem fusion would look like, which very quickly spiraled out of control! Of course I have fusion ideas for all of them, but it will take me some time to get to those <3 (they also asked me for a lot more than just that!!!! But I wanted to show these rough concepts)

Abiteth = Pink Moss Agate Dabi = Eyris Pearl Touya = Clear Quartz

I have a tough time with simplistic styles because I overcomplicate eeeeeeeverything, but I'm pretty happy that I managed to keep these relatively simple and in line with how SU's style does coloring and body types! Fusions will come soon!! (And then I'll answer your ask Anon <3333 I have a whole storyline and shit figured out too HAHAHA).

#dabi #abiteth kenka #touya todoroki #touya #dabi art #touya art #mha #bnha #mha oc #bnha oc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #steven universe #Dabiteth AU #Dabi and Touya are the same height but #Dabi looks taller because of his HAIR #Abi is an Earth gem!!!! #TouBi are both Homeworld gems

[dragonsateyourtoast]

New skin :3 wavecrest reject

It is multi-gaze compatible and intended for use on MG dragons!

Forgive the slightly messy attempt to shop eyes on top of the skin, reSKIN doesn't let you put eyes on top of stuff, so I'm stuck with the template I made by just. Erasing the white dragon I used as a model lol

Come n get it!

#art #flight rising #fr #skins #wavecrest #pearlcatcher m #uma #multi-gaze

[kristinakyidyl]

I have two images for you guys today. First, a quick one of Morning using a picture of my DracARys dragon. I realized at some point that the funnest use of the app is to make reference pics for my self. Imma draw so many dragons. 😂

Morning was hatched and bonded at some point during the Dance by Rhaena Targaryen while she was living in the Eyrie, and is described as pale pink with black accents. At the end of the Dance, Morning was the only living dragons still under Targaryen control. Within a few years of the end of the war, Morning was large enough to be flown by Rhaena. The cause of Morning’s death is unknown, but by 153 AC the dragons were all gone, so it happened at some point before that.

Next is her sister Baela’s dragon, Moondancer.

Moondancer has been sitting on my tablet mostly finished for…awhile. Like a long time. And the thing that was taking so long as that her accents are described as “pearl”, and despite knowing how to paint pearls, I couldn’t get it right. I tried a million times, and finally had to settle for vaguely pearl colored with shines. So she’s finished now, and overall I like her, but I’m annoyed that I never managed to make the accents look pearl.

Anyway, I won’t go over what happened to Moondancer because it’s very spoiler-y for HotD (morning’s story mostly happens after the dance.), but it’s as sad as the rest of them.

#asoiaf #got #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #westeros #targaryens #asoiaf fandom #dragons #fanart #targaryen #fandom #fanworks #targaryen dragons #the dance of the dragons #Moondancer #Morning #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #hotd spoilers

[imaginaryshorts]

Feathers of Destiny

Once upon a time, in a world where emotions reflected in people's eyes, and mystical items held the power to influence fate, lived a woman with enchanting azure blue eyes. Often miss-called as the rarity of the village, she was known for her unusual headpiece - a sovereign crown of exotic feathers that shimmered with every shade imaginable, intertwined with pearls sparkling under the radiant sunlight.

Her sapphire eyes, as deep and mesmerizing as the ocean, held a tale in their depths. Each iridescent feather that crested her head was a keepsake from her adventures, a symbol of her resilience, strength, and wisdom. These were not just ordinary feathers. Their hues danced to the rhythm of emotions experienced by the wearer, a magnificent spectacle to behold, adding to her fascinating allure.

There were tales spun around the woman of blue eyes and vivid feathers. Stories of her voyages across unscaled mountains, uncharted forests, and untraveled seas, her encounters with magical creatures from different realms, and her courage that wove together undiscovered paths.

Once, the village elders prophesied a comet that was to fall during the full moon, causing chaos and havoc. Fear clouded the village. The woman's eyes reflected a determined cobalt blue, showing her finalized decision. She chose to venture out, journey to the ends of the Earth to find The Solstice Eyrie, a mythical nest home to the Phoenix of Prophecy capable of diverting celestial path.

Her journey involved taming thunderous seas, placating capricious gales, and confronting monstrous beasts. The feathers on her crown, whispers of her past victories, aided her by glowing in magical hues, providing guidance, strength, and protection.

After weeks of relentless wandering, she finally reached the Solstice Eyrie, standing face to face with the majestic Phoenix of Prophecy. In lieu of presenting any diamond, gem, or gold, she excluded her most precious possession - one of her magical feathers.

Accepting her heartfelt gift and moved by her determination, the Phoenix promised to channel the cosmic energies to divert the path of the imminent disaster.

Returning to her village, relief washed over her face as she gazed up at the comet's brilliant trail, passing by harmlessly, illuminating the night sky. Her crown, once chillingly vacant, was now adorned with a new feather - a golden feather touched with tones of ember, the Phoenix's gift.

Everyone witnessed her return, a triumphant smile touching her lips, her blue eyes echoing tales of heroism. The woman with feathers in her hair, once dismissed as the oddity in their village, was now their savior, their incomparable heroine.

And so, the legacy would continue, the woman's crown, a living testament of her journey, a palette representing the spectrum of emotions she has mastered, and her mesmerizing azure eyes, chroniclers of a saga, gone by, yet forever present.

And hence goes, the unforgettable tale of the woman with blue eyes and feathers on her head, each feather bearing a story, every adventure adding color to her life.

#fantasy #short stories #digital artist #digital art #writers on tumblr #creative writing

[rosemary1315]

SU OC: Eyris Pearl

[Update: May 25, 2023]

I draw su oc. This time, I draw pearl or pearlsona. She's Eyris Pearl, Other her nickname is Lisa, she got this name from Alan Madison (He prefer to call her Lisa as her name).

Backstory

Eyris Pearl/Lisa is one of Aqua Aura Quartz (Marina), Brown Spinel (Bonnie) and Strawberry Quartz (Ichigo)'s friend. She had lived on Homeworld with her friends.

Before Era 3, Eyris was Servant like most Pearls. She's doing well in her duties other pearls. But unlike other pearls, she want to try does something difference from her works as pearl. Plus, she's gem who wants to learn things to add knowledge to herself. She want to learn somethings, beside about gems. But with a gem society and Caste System, it made her less chance to learn the things she wanted from other gems, which Aqua understand her at this point.

Several thousands years later, after Era 3 is begin. Eyris heard Aqua decide to moves to Earth with her friends. She decide to moved from Homeworld to start new life on the Earth with Aqua and her friends.

Days later in one day, while Eyris was walking through Beach City. She met Alan (At that time, Alan came to the city to visit his cousin, Angela with his childs and his brother-in-law, Hayato), she saw him sitting alone. She wondered why he sitting here alone like that. Then, she started walking to greet him. She can saw, he looks bit shock to greet him. She decide to talk to him. She was impressed that he talk to her politely. This point, it made she want to know him.

#Steven Universe #Steven Universe OC #Eyris Pearl #My OC #My Artwork

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

ASOIAF House Fashion Headcanons Part 2

Here's part 2 of this post:

Riverlands/House Tully:

So first of all I think there would actually be a lot of overlap between the North, Riverlands, and Iron Islands, especially the latter two seeing as the Riverlands were historically invaded and ruled by the Islanders

So stuff like the styles of jewelry and other decorations would bear a lot of similarities, but the Riverlanders would still have their own distinct style for sure

I thought of a Celtic vibe for most Riverlanders

All shades of red, blue, green, and teal - they'd probably get the closest to purple with either deep wine reds or indigo blues

I can for some reason see children or at least younger generations wearing lighter shades of these colours though (sea green, eggshell blue, dusky pink etc.)

I even thought some kind of plaid? Or at least patterns woven into the fabrics

Knitting would also be big here, again with fancy stripes and patterns with different coloured yarns

Freshwater pearls as decoration on fancy clothing or as jewelry

And other blue stones like Lapis Lazuli (probably amber from the north too)

All kinds of cloak pins, brooches, clasps etc.

Hair would be well taken care of and an important part of appearance, lots of elaborate and delicate layers of braids, both for men and women

In general I think the three northern kingdoms would wear their hair longer and generally looser for practicality's sake - it's warmer after all

Idk I like the idea of them having some kind of decorative fringe on the edges of shawls or cloaks

Reach/House Tyrell

I see somewhere between regency era and 1930s elegance in terms of style inspirations

I feel like their fashions would look more "modern" to us, to add to the thematic significance of them being the "new" nobles in King's Landing, Margaery replacing Cersei as queen etc.

Light pastel shades of green, blue, yellow, gold, and pink, or delicate embroidery and lace over white cotton and silk

Plenty of rose imagery of course

Delicate yellow and rose gold jewelry, pearls and light coloured gemstones like peridots, aquamarine, topaz, and rose quartz

Elaborate hair updos, in warmer weather they'd want hair off their necks (but still long enough to style)

Hair jewelry, ribbons, and netting, and flowers as hair decoration

A lot of clothing would have short sleeves, sometimes sleeveless altogether

Though I can see intricately embroidered silk shawls being used for evenings and cooler days

Victorian-esque fan etiquette would have a place here I feel

Stormlands/House Baratheon

Tudor/late Elizabethan inspired; structured and heavily layered

Brocade fabrics in rich, dark colours; dark gold, burgundy, black, navy blue, dark copper brown

Lots of leather and hides worked in, emphasis on hunting

Furs

Heavy, blocky jewelry - I'm thinking copper and bronze with stones like garnets, jasper, and carnelian

Wide silhouettes and broad shoulders, long surcoats for men and sometimes women

Wide leather belts

A variety of hats and headdresses/headpieces

A general impression both strength and impressiveness given through clothing

Vale/House Arryn

They're an old and traditional house, so their fashion wouldn't have changed much over the years

Emphasis on the past, each noble house has its own heirloom jewelry (and I'd assume even some of the smallfolk would have something of that nature even if it's just a single brooch or ring that's been passed down)

I want to say 12th century Medieval is my inspiration, lots of drapey layered gowns and such

Hair nets and veils, lots of hair decoration and dramatic hair fashions

Mostly shades of blue, green, cream, and grey and white, and expensive fabrics like velvet, silk, delicate lace, and satin

Furs too! They're up in the mountains and even though it's not that far north it would get pretty cold especially in the Eyrie, but instead of heavier furs like in the north you'd have more delicate, sleek pelts of rabbit and ermine and even some kind of snow leopard

Lots of blue and white precious stones like moonstone, agate, sapphire, and opal, they're not close to the ocean but they'd be able to afford pearls which fits nicely into their aesthetic too

Possible feather decoration in some form, half capes, drapery, or other accents made from feathers sewn onto cloth (not unlike Sansa's 'raven dress' on the show), or at the very least feather designs embroidered onto clothing

White gold and silver

Gloves

I have no idea where this comes from, but I really really want them to have some kind of subtle face paint designs - not like the Islanders' style war paint but almost a high fashion-y imitation of it. Idk I feel there's a "removed" quality to the Arryns/ Vale inhabitants and even though they're involved in Westeros' conflicts, they'd want to appear "above it all" (maybe I just feel this way because of the mountain thing *shrugs*) and thus take something that seems like it should be for battle and turn it into a fashion statement ?? idk

Sort of like Lady M's subtle blue face paint stripe in the 2015 version of Macbeth - this is exactly the vibe I'm thinking

Dorne/House Martell

I'm thinking ancient India as a vague inspiration (possibly Mughal Empire?)

The book mentions this and I like it so I'm gonna roll with it; mostly warm shades of red, gold, pink, orange and yellow - offset with bright blue-greens

Though it seems contradictory, I feel like those in the mountains and the desert would tend to wear more blue, green, or teal to offset their warm-toned environment, while the coast dwellers would dress in more warm colours

Printed/stamped on patterns, but also lots of rich embroidery and bead decoration

Light, fine silks, linens, and cottons

I like the idea of armor-like jewelry; arm cuffs, anklets, torcs, decorative breastplates

Gold and copper jewelry, stones such as turquoise, opals, tiger's eye, topaz

Near the sea I can see coral being worn as jewelry too

Or glass? I like the idea of them having painted glass bracelets and pendants

Like the Iron Islands, I thought tattoos and piercings would both make an appearance (though in a very different style and with more of an emphasis on decoration rather than intimidation)

I think in such a warm climate it wouldn't be uncommon to see women with shorter hair, way more so than in the rest of Westeros

#asoiaf #got #game of thrones #house tully #riverlands #house tyrell #the reach #house baratheon #the stormlands #house arryn #the vale #house martell #dorne #long post

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

@a-mixed-bag-of-dbh

💧 my muse is a merperson, and yours is the merperson they are betrothed to marry, to unite their underwater kingdoms.

Connor knew this day was going to come, but he hadn’t expected it to come so fast. He tried to run, to escape his fate, but he was soon found. His father chastised him, reminding him that this union will bring peace to two kingdoms that had feuded for centuries. His actions were selfish, but is it so wrong to want to taste freedom at least once before he was forced into a loveless marriage, duty bound to produce children, and work to keep the peace? 

Today will be the day the families gather. Connor can see them starting to arrive from the top of his tower. His servants were trying to fuss over him as he stares out the window, dressing him in carefully carved coral, silver, and shells. They place a crown atop his head, made with polished unicorn shells, black coral, and blue eyris pearls. Connor finds it a bit much, but he’s supposed to look both beautiful and powerful to the other kingdom, worthy of sharing their power and wealth, as if he actually wants it. 

There’s a knock on the door. He finally turns away from the window, seeing Kara, his father’s advisor, “It’s time to come greet the family, prince Connor. Your father has asked me to remind you to be on your best behavior for the sake of our people.” 

Rather than give a sarcastic remark as he usually would do in such a situation, the merman only nods, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment, before going downstairs to join his father. 

....

“I present to you, Prince Connor of Phanagoria!” The crier shouts, signaling Connor to enter the large dance hall, holding his head up high, his bioluminescence shining as he swims up to the throne. At the top is his father and the other kingdom’s family, among them is assumingly the prince he’s betrothed to. 

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance,” He bows to the other kingdom. 

#Gavin // a-mixed-bag-of-dbh #Mer-Verse #(I hope this is alright) #(I looked up lost underwater cities to get that name lol)

[impossible-rat-babies]

eyrie glams go brr

ast --> brd --> casual --> smn --> pld

AST: diamond sextant (pearl white). varsity flat cap. ivalician chemist's robe. crystarium pantaloons of healing. neo ishgardian boots of healing BRD: yochi bow zeta replica. pince nez. alliance jacket of aiming. radiant’s wristgloves of aiming. heirloom gaskins of aiming. ophiotauroskin boots of aiming CASUAL ivalician enchanter’s eyeglasses. isle shepherd’s tunic. isle shepherd’s wristdress. shishu gozen hakama. summer sunset sandals

SMN genji grimoire (pearl white). pince nez. bozjan coat of casting. cryptlurker's vambraces of casting. shire philosopher's hose. crystarium boots of casting PLD: padjali blade. pince nez. blade's harness of fending. ravel keeper's armlets of fending. bozjan breeches of fending. peacelover's longboots

#oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv #diamond sextant my beloved #i have been coming back to it over and over again ;--; #same with the genji grimore #okay to rebloog #im gonna go before i get all meta on eyrie's weapons skdjhfksd #but im glad im getting to a glam place where all their looks really feel in character and cohesive between jobs #they are all different but they all feel like they fit

[apaise]

a week ago the vale had received the announcement that king aleksander of drachma was to marry naya kuvar, a commoner. the news soon became an inescapable topic in the palace and the markets, nobles and peasants alike curious about this great love story. with marriage such a powerful bargaining chip for unwed royals across the land, the masses were fascinated by aleksander choosing someone who would bring no new territories or trade or military to his realm. 

surely it must be a tale of romance.

for the following days, alys was subjected to her ladies’ constant fantasizing about the king and his bride, imagining some fairytale of choosing love over duty. though it was a constant theme in their novels passed around at tea, it was rare for the ladies to experience a living and breathing example; alys could not fault them for their excitement. she did have to disappoint them in failing to attend the wedding, however. with issues in the north over pests attacking the crops and villages going hungry, alys could not push her work aside to celebrate aleksander and naya’s union -- no matter how idyllic the story. 

the outcry in the palace was immeasurable after, maids and noblewomen equally disheartened that alys would not visit drachma and inform them all about the king and his blushing bride. her head maids were particularly disappointed to miss out on the opportunity of travel, wanting to explore the exalted drachma. after provisions from the stormlands had been secured to aid the north, alys finally agreed to attend naya’s coronation ( mostly to quell the complaints ). her retinue set forth early to arrive in drachma on time, with alys delaying her departure as she continued to arrange assistance for the north. thankfully, she and beryl could take flight the morning of the reception without any concerns of arriving late.

the feast before the princess’s coronation was a lavish one with intricately carved fruits and boar’s head and cockentrice. though the king’s sister was regrettably absent due to a light fever, aleksander’s mood was nonetheless merry, toasting his bride and amazing the nobles as he carefully cut into a pie that let loose live doves in honor of their matrimony. alys presented the king and princess with a gift in the classic greystark tradition: a golden dragon egg. this one had been specially commissioned for a tale of such romance, the egg smothered in red enamel roses studded across a gold trellis covered in emerald vines. a tug on the lid would open it like a music box, revealing two intertwined pearl roses inside with the king and future queen’s initials. 

king aleksander thanked alys generously, bestowing compliment upon compliment and occasionally speaking over his young wife. though alys smiled in return, she couldn’t help but notice princess naya appeared much less starry-eyed and exuberant as the rumors would portray her. she was beautiful to be sure -- enough to balk a poet should he attempt to describe even the gentle dusk of her eyes. yet she did not look like some heroine of fantasy on the cusp of every dream coming true; if alys peered closer, she looked like juliet awakening alone in the tomb. 

such matters were not alys’s business, however. she left the king and princess to welcome the others, enduring the rest of the night in patience, only wishing to return home. after the feast, aleksander invited everyone to the vast terrace outside, and to alys’s horror, there was a fanfare of fireworks. a century before alys was born, explosives had been the mode of combat used against the greystarks ( even when they were protecting the velaryons ). though ordinary explosives could do little against a dragon, the army of the eyrie had concocted some purple poison that could melt even dragon flesh. while beryl had survived the war of the era, her brother had not.

as the other guests ooh and awe, alys excuses herself to find her dragon, fearing her reaction to seeing colors of fire rain from the sky. she’s relieved to discover beryl’s still in the courtyard and that she hadn’t flown off, yet -- she’s completely distressed, pacing and giving raspy yowls. upon seeing alys calm and unharmed, however, beryl lets out a smoky sigh, and the queen’s quick to tend to her with a soothing touch. she realizes in beryl’s desolation she had somehow injured herself, a gash at her back leg. alys couldn’t discern what could have caused it; had she flown away and come back . . . .? thankfully it isn’t deep, but she still sends for a maid to bring her medical supplies, alys rolling up her sleeves in the meanwhile. 

she had just sat down to begin cleaning the wound when beryl gives a little rumble, indicating a stranger. alys looks up to find princess naya herself in the courtyard, seemingly perturbed. hopefully alys had not offended the soon-queen with her early departure from the party. 

❝ princess naya, ❞ alys greets with a mere nod; no matter if she’s in another kingdom, she’s still queen. ❝ i apologize for stepping away from the celebration so early, ❞ she begins, rising from the stool the maid had brought her to address the princess properly. ❝ i’m afraid we aren’t accustomed to fireworks in the capital, ❞ alys gives a small, apologetic smile. instead the greystarks had their own tradition of floating lanterns, the paper made to look like dragons and the torches lit by drualt and beryl themselves. 

❝ my friend was a little startled. ❞ ( @feveredblurs​ )

#( this goT LONG BUT U KNOW HOW INTRODUCTIONS ARE... ) #( hope the hcs about the celebration are okay!!! ) #( SO EXCITED FOR THEM THOUGH :') just two elegant ladies~~ ) #( becoming gal pals while cleaning a wound nbd ) #feveredblurs #( c: alys ) #( v: dragons )

[dogaseducationblog]

and "farewell," they cried, "wherever you fare till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!"

hi, tumblr's lovely people,

as we come to the end of another semester my dear hobbits (and I am Gandalf the Grey and White in this case), I am saddened to inform you that this is the end of our great journey (but don't believe me, whatever I say is over is just the beginning of another exciting adventure). welcome to the last post where I can talk to you about the pearl of our time, technology, and Disney.

I am sincerely happy that I was able to take the Current Issues course. I found it really useful in the way that the approach the course aims to take pushes the limits of teachers' creativity while at the same time expanding the boundaries of what we can do in and out of school. my favorite tasks were definitely the AI-integrated teaching materials and the flipped classroom assignment. these tasks emphasized creativity while showing the integration of AI in language education and also gave us the space to make our dreams come true, which, as usual, was to include Disney animations in our assignments. there was not a task that I didn't quite enjoy because I was able to find a way to combine them all with things that I loved, so I think that all future teachers should be enthusiastic about this approach where they can engage with things that they love.

as we part our ways, as Gandalf the White said at the end of the greatest trilogy ever written: well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the sea comes the end of our fellowship in Middle-earth. go in peace! I will not say: do not weep for not all tears are evil.

thank you so much for being with me until the end. I always say "I wouldn't probably", but for the first (and probably the last) time I will say I definitely would. I will always be one virtual step away. farewell!

until next time,

with love... and obviously education, doğa

#english teacher #education #21st century learning #englishteacher #english learning #learning english #teaching #technology education #last post