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K I S S E D B Y F I R E

the last kingdom fanfiction ◆ rewrite coming soon

hmm what about ❝ i was fearless, and now i… i’m just… i’m just afraid. ❞ as rhaenyra talking to harwin post-wedding feast about what happened

The morning after her wedding was not quite what Rhaenyra had thought it might be. Any romantic notions she'd held for marriage had fallen to the wayside years prior, a casualty of the years spent dealing with suitors set before her by her father and his small council. She'd accepted that her wedding would an exciting affair for the court but not a dream of her own fulfilled. But the bloodshed the night before had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Laenor had spent the night in her chambers, inconsolable at the death of Joffrey. Consummating the marriage didn't even cross her mind, a concern for another day when they both were in better spirits and more willing to do their duties. He'd stayed past dawn, waking only once her handmaidens had come to dress her and bringing breakfast for the newlyweds. By the time he'd excused himself to return to his own chambers, the cloud of melancholy had settled over them both and she'd had no desire to face the world outside her room.

Hours had passed and maids had come and gone, some with requests from her father she'd turned away and others simply doing their jobs without so much as a word. She'd taken advantage of the quiet while she could, trying to reconcile her feelings of what it was like to be entering the next chapter of her life and push back the images of blood pooling on the stone floor the night before.

A heavy knock at her door startled her from her thoughts, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. An anxiousness filled her belly in a way she'd never felt in her own chambers. The last man to be outside the door of her rooms had killed a man in a crowded room the night before for reasons she still wasn't sure of. But she was a Targaryen, the blood of Valyria and descended of warriors like Visenya. She wasn't made to cower in the corner at the idea of a man at her door.

"Come in," she called out, her voice wavering just a touch. The doors opened and she couldn't explain the relief that filled her when she saw it was Ser Harwin Strong who entered, his gold cloak a welcome sight in comparison to the white she'd always seen waiting in the corridor. "Ser Harwin. What - what can I do for you?"

He hadn't stepped further into the room, staying cautiously by the doors as if he wasn't sure what would be best. "The king and my father spoke this morning about what would be best in regards to your personal shield for the time being. I thought you would like to know who'll be standing guard."

A look of surprise crossed her face at the news, piecing together what it meant that he was the one giving her the message. "Oh. I hope this new post doesn't leave you inconvenienced."

"I volunteered for it."

A silence settled over them both at his words, a kind half smile being directed towards her that offered more comfort than any of the platitudes she'd been given the night before had. For the first time since the fighting had broken out, she felt the weight her chest lift away, still present but not as stifling as it had been. Her time spent in Ser Harwin's company had never been long but he'd always been a welcome companion at whatever feast or celebration they'd crossed paths at.

"I don't mean to overstep, princess, but how are you faring after last night?"

The lie was on her lips before she had a second to think it through. "I'm fine. The wedding wasn't quite the ceremony we had all expected but..." She found herself faltering the longer she tried to express her expected happiness and the curious eyes of the goldcloak before her did little to help her maintain appearances. Their eyes met for a moment, violet and green as each watched the others expressions and finally the mask slipped away. "Truthfully... I'm still unsettled after last night. I've never... it's one thing to see the blood on the tourney field. To see them enter a mostly fair fight with the weapons at hand and their armor on. It can be gruesome but it's nothing they hadn't agreed to. But what happened last night - the way that Ser Criston - I don't think I've known such violence before. Not with my own eyes. And it's left me feeling more mouse than dragon. I feel I was fearless before I entered that hall last night and now - now I'm frightened. Frightened of the men I should trust without hesitation."

A scowl had formed on his lips, some of that dark cloud that had lingered over her moving to envelop him as well. The expression left Ser Harwin as an imposing figure in her doorway though she hoped it wouldn't stay. The happier expressions she'd seen him bear were much more suited for him. The hand at his side clenched as he seemed to search for words, fist closing and opening almost without realizing it and she watched carefully, not out of fear but curiosity at what the man would say next.

"What Cole did to Lonmouth, the way he let his promises to you fail in favor of whatever provocation he may have received to set him off, was his failure. And no one would fault you from fearing him - or any man with that sort of power. And I'll do what I can to ensure that whoever my father and the king posts to you permanently won't make you feel that fear again."

There was a determination in his words that made her believe him, a conviction that felt like more than just empty promises being fed to her for her own good. It was a reassurance she was eager to cling to.

"I don't feel that fear with you, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra told him, her words quiet but still echoing against the stone. They brought him a step further inside, a move he seemed to not even realize he'd made as his hands folded in front of him. "If the city watch could spare you, I'd be grateful to have your company and protection for a while longer."

The half smile returned, a soothing balm to the nerves that still picked at her as he nodded his agreement. "I'm yours, princess. For however long that need be."

And with that said, the heir to Harrenhal took his place at her door and gave her back the first bit of control and comfort she'd lost in the midst of the great hall the night before.

Three word sentence starters: please don’t cry. For Harwin x reader please

(I did this as pre-HOTD, before Lyonel has brought the boys to King's Landing, kind of like a first love type of ship.)

Harwin couldn't help the sharp wince that slipped out as one of the young squires helped remove the breastplate he'd been wearing. It wouldn't take a maester to tell him he'd be hurting, most likely for the rest of the tourney if the blow that had knocked him off his horse was any indication. The dark bruise starting to form under his shirt where the lance had hit only further confirmed the thought. His father had warned him of this, warned him that even if he were big for his age, taking on knights ten or more years his senior in the lists would be a dangerous feat. He'd insisted on competing when he'd been brought along to the festivities celebrating the wedding of Lord Tully's heir to a lady from the Westerlands. He'd turned five and ten on his last name day and grown to stand taller than his father in the months since. He was a man grown and ready to compete with the best there was. He just hadn't expected Lord Tully's second son to hit as hard as he had.

"Seven hells, Harwin!"

That was the other reason he'd been eager to compete. He'd met the lady Lara Tully the year prior when his father had met with other lords throughout the Riverlands to discuss trade and whatnot. He'd paid little attention to the business Lord Lyonel had meant for him to see but at the feast he'd been pushed in the direction of redheaded girl from Riverrun. They'd danced well enough for a pair of youths still growing into themselves, the first spin around the hall a bit clumsy but finding a rhythm and an enjoyable companionship by the second and third. As the wine continued to flow and polite conversation shifted to loud laughter and stories, the two had snuck away to a quiet corner. She wasn't the first girl he'd kissed but she had been the first he'd wished to see again.

Although perhaps not looking at him with such distress in those blue eyes of hers. He was quick to tell the squire to make himself scarce as she pushed into his tent, knowing the boy was unlikely to gossip about them being alone to anyone of note. She barely noticed as he scampered off, her eyes wide and focused intently on his chest.

"It's not as bad as it looks, I prom-sshit." His reassurance fell flat as her hand rested against the bruise, a hiss of pain and curse escaping before he could stop himself.

"Not as bad?! Harwin, it looks like a horse stamped on your chest. What were you thinking, facing Oscar like that?!"

His own hand reached up, taking her smaller one and moving it away from the bruise but not letting her pull free just yet. "I was thinking your brother wouldn't hit as hard as he did. And I was thinking of how lovely you'd look if I crowned you queen of love and beauty when the tourney was won. I suppose I could find another flower crown to give you but it won't be quite as impressive."

"Dammit, Harwin," she cursed softly, fingers curling around his as she stared up at him. The shock was fading a bit but the look of fear and sadness in her eyes didn't make him feel any better. "You could've been seriously hurt. You could have been killed. Do you have any idea-"

Her voice broken as a small sob broke free and the guilt he felt in his stomach overpowered the bruise on his chest. His arms moved around her and pulled her against him, offering soft whispers of comfort against the red curls that hung loose. "Please don't cry," he murmured, a calloused hand rubbing soft circles over her back. "You know I'm completely useless at helping crying ladies. This tourney was supposed to be all smiles for the both of us."

"That was before you went and tried to get yourself killed by a knight ten years your senior," she argued, though he could feel some of the tension slipping away the longer she stood there in his arms. He would take what he could get for now, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and holding her tighter.

"I'm sorry, darling. I promise not to scare you like that again. Alright?"

"You'd better. Otherwise I'll have to take Larys as my favorite son from Harrenhal if for no other reason than to spare myself the grief."

He growled at the notion, no matter that it was simply a playful tease. His arms tugged her closer, his teeth nipping at the spot behind her ear, and finally he was treated to a shriek of laughter to replace the concern she'd first walked in with. "Well, we certainly can't have that," he grumbled, pulling her over to the small bench that had been left for him and settling her on his lap as his lips found hers in search of the sweetness they'd exchanged before. It didn't take long for any thoughts of returning to the tourney to leave him completely.

hi! I don't know how you're feeling about writing aus, but maybe "i'll be there" for married rhaewin? 🥺🧡

(Oh I am a ✨slut✨ for AUs so request them as much as you like. For this I did as if Harwin and Rhaenyra had been married from the start, that Lyonel had suggested him as a suitor for the princess.)

"You aren't dressed. Why aren't you dressed?"

Rhaenyra glanced over her shoulder as the handmaiden made quick work of the laces down the back of her dress, pulling the gown she'd intended to wear to the feast off. Standing in the doorway of her bedchamber was her husband, dressed for dinner and looking at her with a frown. His usual armor and gold cloak were gone and replaced with a simple doublet, curls pulled back in a poor attempt to look more presentable. She knew he took little joy in the feasts held at the Red Keep, the ones filled with polite chatter with the lords and ladies visiting King's Landing, many looking for an opportunity to gain favor with the king or queen. And she already knew what his current frustration was.

"I was dressed but then your son decided my gown would be much improved by a smear of mashed peach down the front. And I didn't think it would go unnoticed if I went down to the feast with a stained gown." The cold air coming in through the windows left her arms covered in gooseflesh as she stood there in her shift, waiting for the clean gown to be brought out.

His frown softened a bit as he stepped further into the room, crossing to where she stood to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Funny how he's my son whenever he's misbehaving but ours when he's acting like a perfect prince."

"Funny indeed," she replied, smiling up at him and leaning up for a proper kiss before the maids began pulling at her to dress again. "Go on ahead, I won't be much longer. I'm sure your father is already waiting there."

He shook his head, taking a seat on the lounge near the windows. He made himself comfortable, stretching out his legs and watched her with the same affection she'd seen in his eyes since they'd first been betrothed years ago. "Not a chance," he told her, huffing as a curl fell loose and into his eyes. "The last time you sent me down before you I was left listening to Beesbury drone on and on about the coffers and our business dealings with the Iron Bank. I'd rather try and mount Syrax by myself than go down to that feast alone."

Her laughter echoed through the room and she could even catch an amused look on the young maid who was fixing the sleeves of her new dress. "Harwin, honestly, you will manage just fine on your own. I'll be there soon enough. Promise."

"Promise all you like, princess. I'm not walking into that hall without my wife at my side. So the lords and ladies will just have to wait. Now hurry up or I'll send away the maids and convince you to try changing the gown again, just the two of us."

More laughter, more smiles, and forty-five minutes later they were finally making their way down to the feast with matching grins and promises to sneak away from dinner as soon as they could manage.

told you i was coming back for more! 🧡 "i need you here" for the married rhaewin verse, if you're feeling like it? 🥺🥺🥺

(tw: mentions of pregnancy and fears about childbirth, references to miscarriages and the struggles Aemma had, this takes place when Rhaenyra is pregnant with Jace)

The feel of cold sheets under his arm was enough to pull Harwin from sleep, his hand searching the other half of the bed for his wife. He pushed himself up when he realized the bed was empty. Not for the first time in recent nights, Rhaenyra was pacing the room, her movements slowing the further along in her pregnancy she got. The maester was certain it wouldn't be much longer before the babe was born and the closer she got to the birth the more restless she'd become. For the most part, he took it all in stride, doing what he could to reassure her and comfort her. But his knowledge failed him at times, particularly at these moments when his mind was still clouded with sleep and her emotions were particularly frazzled.

"I think if you keep that up much longer, you might leave a pattern on the stone from where you've walked," he mumbled, pushing his hair back as he moved to stand. The look she gave made it clear she wasn't amused by him or his jokes, just continuing with her pacing. "You need your rest, love. And since you won't rest during the days, night seems to be the best time to get that rest."

"I can't rest. Every time I lay down I'm reminded of the child growing in me. I feel like I'm bigger than Vhagar my stomach has grown so large. And any time I stay put for longer than five minutes some lady from court whether she's met me before or not will offer me horrid advice about giving birth and raising the child and it makes me want to scream. And when I am finally left alone and finally comfortable enough to sit or lay down for any amount of time all I can think of is...is my mother. Of what she went through."

Any quip he had vanished at the words, the quiet whisper of fear that he'd never heard her admit before. There was an ache in his chest when he finally spotted it, the look of fear in her eyes that he'd been blind to before. And without another moment's hesitation, he'd stood from the bed and crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

She stayed tense for a moment before giving in, letting herself lean fully into him. It was muffled but he could still hear as she mumbled against his chest, "You've been busy with your men and I didn't - I don't like you thinking me weak. The blood of Aegon the Conqueror shouldn't be frightened by the birthing bed."

"Rhaenyra," he started, hands cupping her face and tilting it up so he could see her better. "I'd never think you weak. Never. And I'm sure Aegon the Conqueror would've feared the birthing bed as well if he'd been the one in it instead of his wives."

The faintest hint of a smile broke through her somber expression and he clung to it as best he could, pressing his forehead to hers and reaching down to let his hand rest on the swell of her belly. Her next words were whispered, almost as if she said them any louder they'd be overheard. "For years I watched my mother suffer through miscarriages and stillbirths. At least six children lost that I know of and her mother before died in the birthing bed as well. All I can see when I close my eyes blood soaked sheets and a tiny bundle on a funeral pyre and it leaves me filled with this dread that I just - I can't make go away. I've tried but no matter what this fear has wormed its way in me and will not let go."

They stood there together, minutes passing as he held her and tried to think of what to say. Any reassurances seemed useless. He hadn't known her mother but he'd heard her speak of what had happened that led to her death. And he remembered his father's second wife dying after a day and a half of labor, leaving behind his father with a new daughter to raise alongside him and Larys, alone once more. He'd be lying if he claimed there hadn't been a hint of worry in the back of his mind that something might go wrong. But none of that mattered now.

"I won't make you promises that everything will be perfect," he told her, breaking the silence they'd been sharing. "We've never lied to one another and I won't start that now. We both know childbirth can be as bloody as a battle. But you have to know that there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. I need you here with me the way I need air in my lungs. And I'd fight the Stranger himself if he tried to take you from me before we've had a lifetime together."

Her smile was watery but a bit of the fear he'd seen in those violet eyes had receded and he was quick to press a loving kiss to her lips. It was chaste, affectionate but simple before she pulled away to look up at him. "You truly are the best of men, Harwin."

He smiled in return, his hands finding her and slowly leading her back to their bed in hopes of getting her some much needed sleep while she could.

girl, i am back!!!! and completely in love with your single dad!Harwin 🧡🥺✨ can we get a "how can i help?" in that verse?? bonus points if it's rhae asking 🥴😭🥺

(this is for a modern single dad!Harwin au that I mentioned yesterday and might eventually flesh out into a full on story but the concept is Harwin is raising Jace and Luke on his own and has recently reconnected with Rhaenyra, whom he grew up with and hasn't seen in years. Jace and Luke are his kids in this, not theirs. at least not biologically. okay i hope you like it <3)

It only took one night for Rhaenyra to discover how quickly plans could change with someone who had children. Her and Harwin had managed to meet up a handful of times since they'd first bumped into each other, grabbing coffee or lunch when they could to try and catch up. And tonight was the first chance they'd had to make plans for dinner. The first time it would be something she might actually consider a date. The whole thing was still a bit casual, the two of them dancing around the conversation of where this was going. But she was looking forward to spending time with him, time that didn't have a timer on it for when they both needed to get back to their responsibilities. And when he'd offered to cook for them rather than going out to, she'd been happy for the chance of a potentially intimate night together.

What she hadn't expected was little Jace to answer the door when she rang the bell at half past seven. "Um, hi Jace. Do you remember me? I'm a friend of your dad's."

"Yep! He said you were coming over for dinner. And he said that we were supposed to be on our best behavior. And he said to let him know when you got here. And - oh! Come on, you can come and see the fish me and Luke got last month. DAD! Miss Nyra's here! I'm showing her my fish!"

And before she could process anything that had come out of the little boy's mouth at a mile a minute, she found herself in a surprisingly tight grip and being pulled into the house, just barely getting the door closed behind her as she stumbled along behind the six year old. She wasn't sure exactly where Harwin was but she found herself being led down a hall lined with an assortment of photos of all three Strongs that she would've enjoyed inspecting if given the chance. Instead, she got a brief glimpse before finding herself in a bedroom filled with books and toys and games and little Luke in some kind of dinosaur onesie playing with a slew of action figures. He didn't do much more than look up and give her a sweet smile before going back to his toys.

There was an aquarium next to the window that Rhaenyra found herself kneeling in front of, listening with as much attention as she could manage as she was given a rundown of every type of fish in the water with as much detail as the little boy could manage. She wasn't sure she'd remember any of it by the time he was finished but it seemed best she make the effort until she was able to break away.

"Jace, I told you to let me know when she got here, not hide her away in the room you two absolutely didn't clean up like I asked you to. You don't get to hog the new guests all for yourself." Jace's explanations were interrupted at the sound of Harwin's voice, getting both her and the boys to turn towards the doorway. He looked good, despite being dressed down for a night in. A kitchen towel was draped over his shoulder and he'd pulled back his hair into bun that seemed to be fighting its constraints. The smile he offered her was sheepish but sweet and she tried not to think too long on how there was suddenly a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

"But you said we could show new people the fish when they first come over," Jace argued, leading to a staring match between father and son for the ten seconds it took her to stand and join Harwin in the doorway.

"They were very impressive fish," she added, getting a smile from the boys and a head shake from their dad which seemed a good enough compromise. "How about you tell me more about them later, Jace? Does that sound okay?"

"Okay." And just like that the boys went back to playing, Jace joining Luke on the floor to pick up where she guessed they'd left off when he'd met her at the door.

For the second time in ten minutes, Rhaenyra found herself being led down the hall, this time by a much gentler and less demanding touch. She followed Harwin back to the living room where she was treated to another sheepish smile as he turned back to her. "Hey, sorry about - well, all of it. They were going to have a sleepover with some friends from school but I got a call right before we were about to leave that the other kids are down chicken pox and I didn't have a chance to give you a heads up. I know I promised a nice relaxing night and you've already been bombarded with every fact he's managed to retain on angelfish and neon tetras. If you want to raincheck I understand, really. Especially since you look like you came straight from work and-"

"Harwin! Stop, breathe, relax." He did as she instructed and she couldn't but reach for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze even though it seemed a hug might have done him better. "It's all fine. I may not have a ton of experience with kids but I am aware that they should take top priority. And I'd have a lot more issues with you still sending them off to a chicken pox infected household so I could have an adults only dinner. Now, please, how can I help?"

There was a pause as he looked down at her, almost as if he was still processing everything between them. And then she blinked and his lips were on hers, a soft kiss that lingered for a heartbeat as his free hand reached up to cup the side of her face. It surprised her, leaving her off balance for a moment before she leaned into the touch and kissed him back. When he pulled back, the smile he wore had relaxed and she felt one mirroring it on her own lips. "Just come keep me company while I finish things up and that will be more than enough." Another quick peck and then the hand holding hers pulled her in the direction she assumed was the kitchen.

And when he lifted her up onto the countertop instead of letting her go over to one of the stools, she could feel the flutter in her stomach once more, relishing in the oddly comforting domesticity of the quiet moments before the patter of little feet came echoing down the hall to join them.

the one she chose | aemond x helaena

(this is supposed to take place some point before episode eight, not at any point in time in particular. targaryen typical incest is referenced so if that's not for you, dni. simple as that.)

It wasn't uncommon for Helaena to receive her brother in her chambers at least once each day. It simply wasn't the brother most would expect to visit. On the rare occasion she and Aegon found themselves alone together it was almost always when he was deep in his cups, words slurring and feeling some desire to fulfill his marital duties. Those times had always been few and far between and since Maelor had been born almost nonexistent. She had never complained. Wedding Aegon had been her duty and she'd done so without complaint. But sharing his bed regularly had never been a desire of hers and she'd always been grateful he seemed to feel the same.

No, it was Aemond who found his way to her rooms most days, whether it be the sitting room to break their fasts together or the bedroom where he'd crawl in behind her and hold her in a tenderness she'd not known from any other. It was Aemond who would join her as she sat with her children, not necessarily affectionate but attentive enough in his own way. And it was Aemond that she gladly claim as a lover, the one she'd discovered her desires beyond simple wifely duties with.

It was midday when he came to her chambers, dressed in a velvet doublet with his hair tied back out of his face. She sat curled on the lounge, the soft breeze coming through the window behind as she made slow work of the embroidery in her lap. It had been several years since the guards had announced Aemond's presence when he would arrive, the prince entering with little pomp and making his way to where she sat.

"You smell of the training grounds," she said in lieu of greeting, eyes still on her stitches as the needle wove its way through the fabric. She could feel him sit next to her, the cushions shifting under his weight and her body leaning into his side naturally. "Did you make a mockery of every knight currently in the Red Keep or did some of them get to keep their dignity this morning?"

There was a gentle touch at the nape of her neck, calloused fingers playing with a strand of her hair lazily. "Ser Arryk found himself in the dirt and Ser Criston lost his morningstar but the others were left alone today," he answered, not trying to pull her from her stitchwork, simply watching the motions of her hands. They'd shared many a quiet moment like this one, had since they were children and keeping company with one another while the mother fussed after Aegon.

The silence settled between them, an old comfort they'd both been fond of for year. The fingers in her hair twisted the strand one way and then the other, her side pressing more and more into his as her head moved to rest on his shoulder. It was a comfort that made her wish, not for the first time, that Aemond had been betrothed to her those years ago. It was a warm blanket of ease that made the world a simpler place for her.

"Let's visit the dragonpit," Aemond said after they'd been sat together for some time, finally pulling her attention from the stitching as she glanced up at him. "You know Dreamfyre misses you and it's been too long since you've been in the skies. It's a clear day and the air away from court would do us both good."

"You know Mother will have words for you if you fly Vhagar anywhere close to King's Landing. The smallfolk fear her more than the others."

"Come with me and I can worry about Mother later," he argued, giving her hair a playful tug that pulled a crooked smile from her lips. "Come. I wish to see you on dragonback, Hel. It's always a sight to behold."

"Fine," she answered, setting her embroidery to the side and pulling herself up off the lounge. Her hand outstretched to him which he took without hesitation, standing with her and leading them both out into the corridor. "But when Mother comes harping about keeping peace with the smallfolk and not terrorizing them like the dragonlords of old, you shall deal with that and I shall leave you to her wrath."

"Whatever my lady desires," he teased back, a quick kiss pressing to her cheek as they made their way down to the dragonpit.

julie, hii!! idk if you're still accepting prompts but I've had this sudden urge of rhae and the boys in the single dad!harwin verse 🥺🥴✨ so, if you're feeling like it, "pinky promise" between the three of them? 🧡 i just need rhae, jace and luke being the bestestestests of best friends 🥴🥺🧡😭

(I am ALWAYS accepting prompts. Just sometimes I'm slower writing them is all.)

Sitting on the well worn couch in Harwin's living room, it was hard for Rhaenyra to think that it had only been a few weeks that they'd been doing this. It was the third time that week that she'd wound at his house after work, changing into comfy clothes that she'd started keeping in a little gym bag in her car and enjoying a simple meal fish and chips he made for them and the boys. She'd sipped a cider through dinner, listening as Jace told a story about how he finally managed to hang upside down from the monkey bars at recess and leaning over to inspect Luke's first loose tooth that was bound to fall out any day now. She'd slipped up twice, using adult language that had both boys shouting for a dollar to the swear jar kept on the kitchen counter and hiding her own smile as they giggled away at the funds being added. At least ten dollars had been added since she first started coming over as she worked on making herself a bit more kid friendly but Harwin was never upset with her. After all, the jar had been two-thirds full before she'd ever set foot inside.

And now she was sitting comfortably on the middle cushion, Harwin to her right and Jace laying with his head in her lap. The television was playing one of the Marvel movies, although she hadn't been paying much attention. The early morning at her office had left her as sleepy as the boys seemed to be as the night went on but she was happy to enjoy the time with them nevertheless.

It wasn't until Harwin moved to stand up that she realized Luke was fast asleep in his lap, the little boy drooling down the front of his dad's shirt. "I'm gonna put him down, I'll be right back," he mumbled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek before disappearing down to the boys' bedroom.

Looking down at Jace, she was sure the older boy wouldn't be too far behind his brother, eyes drooping as he watched the action sequences on screen. Her fingers dragged gently through his mess curls, an affectionate touch that she'd quickly learned both father and sons enjoyed and she had found herself doing more often than not. Seeming to sense her eyes on him, Jace shifted on her lap, looking up at her with sleepy eyes.

"You should come over more often, Nyra," he mumbled softly, eyes closing for a moment as he seemed to struggle with the sleep creeping up. Her heart warmed at the words, knowing how important it was that they like her if this was going to continue on in any form. "Dad laughs more when you're here. And we get more ice cream. It's pretty nice."

She couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped at his explanation, thinking back to the sundaes that had been eaten once dinner was finished two nights earlier. "I think it's pretty nice too."

There was a lull, muffled sounds of Harwin most likely telling Luke a quick bedtime story filtering down the hall. She smiled at the sound before glancing back down at Jace. His expression was serious, or as serious as six year old could be. "Promise not to make him sad? He was sad after mom left. We don't want him to be sad anymore."

There hadn't been much talk about his ex-wife since they'd reconnected, just that she'd left him with the boys and hadn't shown her face since the paperwork was finalized. But it was clear Jace had noticed his father's moods and she couldn't help but think back to the things her own father had tried to hide from her after her mother's death, about the way he'd wanted to hide his grief from her. But she'd seen it all the same and it seemed Jace had experienced something similar.

"I promise," she told him softly. "Pinky promise, even. Your dad is a very good man and I don't want to see him sad anymore than you do."

He smiled at that, hooking his pinky through hers before settling back down. As predicted, by the time Harwin had returned from putting Luke to bed, Jace had fallen asleep on her lap and was quietly snoring away. She waved him off as he bent to pick up the boy, taking his hand and telling him to leave the boy be for a bit. She was perfectly happy to keep carding fingers through his hair as he dreamed for a while longer.

She's not sure how it's come down to this - the two of them standing in the long abandoned drugstore, guns aimed at each other, both seconds away from being the one to pull the trigger. But the sound just outside the door has her hesitating. Infected, more than she'd like to deal with on her own from the sound of it. And she knows he can hear it too. She can see his eyes darting between her and the door. If she wasn't worried he'd pull the trigger on instinct, she might consider making her move while he's trying to assess the growing problem out front. But she wants to live to see tomorrow. And something tells her he feels the same.

Her voice is low, a mumble just loud enough for him to hear but not enough to attract much attention from what's on the other side of the old glass. "Look, either you kill me now and deal with those fuckers outside by your lonesome. Or we deal with it together and live to kill each other a day. So what's it gonna be?"

Her eyes track his every micro expression. The way his jaw clenches, practically able to hear him grinding his teeth. His finger's still on the trigger but there seems to be a hesitancy towards her that wasn't there a minute ago. Nostrils flare as he breathes out a long, frustrated breath before the quick jerk of a nod. "Fine. But just remember if you change your mind and shoot me, better make sure it's a good one. If it's not, I'll find you and kill you with my bare hands."

"Back at ya, big guy," is all she says in response, swinging her aim towards the door that's started to rattle when he does and braces herself for what's to come.

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE | a canon-divergent fanfic based on HBO's The Last of Us. Coming soon...

TITLE: Arsonist's Lullabye FANDOM: HBO's The Last of Us RATING: Mature (for violence and strong language) SHIP: Perry/OFC TAGGING: canon divergent, enemies to lovers, post apocalypse, canon-typical violence, more to come SUMMARY: Allison never wanted to come through Kansas City. Perry never wanted to have an outsider shooting his men. And neither of them wanted to rely on each other to survive. But you don't tend to get what you want when living twenty years after the collapse of polite society.

CHAPTER ONE

If it had been up to Allison, they never would have set foot in Kansas City. Something about the city had set her on edge even from a distance. She’d seen what happened when a QZ fell. She’d experienced the immediate effects and seen the aftershocks. And none of it had ever been any good. But the group had established early on that this was a democracy, not a dictatorship. And when they’d blown a tire half a mile outside the city and been forced out of the van that had been held together with duct tape and desperation for a hundred miles too long, she had been outvoted. The prospect of reaching some kind of shelter before nightfall was a greater possibility than whatever negatives she threw into the conversation. So she’d bit her tongue and took the lead as they started the trek into the city. 

READ ON AO3

reader taglist: @deadbranch @callsign-bee

"whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same." emily bronte, wuthering heights

allison harlow + nathaniel perry | arsonist's lullabye | the last of us

"We gotta - Mason - Mace! We gotta go NOW!"

The door shakes on its hinges, wood creaking as bodies push against it. Glass breaks in the back room, screeching starting to come from down the hall. She scrambles, trying to shove anything she can into the pack and wondering which way to go. He's just standing there, shaking in his spot as he stares at the door. She grabs his arm, trying to pull, trying to get him to snap out of it, to realize that they can't stay.

"Mason, please, I need you to move."

"Allison."

She pulls, pulls hard and almost falls when his weight hits her, still catatonic and unmoving otherwise.

"Mason!"

"Allison, you gotta-"

"MASON!"

"Wake up!"

Her knuckles were almost white, the grip on the knife almost painful as Allison jerked up. The movement was instinctual, a reflex from too many night's spent with one eye open. If it was anyone else, they probably would've wound up with the blade deep in whatever piece of flesh was closest. Perry's reflexes were faster than most, thank god. He caught her arm before she could make contact, his face a mask of calm as if this were just par for the course for him. And if there was a hint of concern in his eyes it was gone before she could be certain. The lantern flickered in the corner, providing just enough light in the dusty room for them to see each other, enough light for her to see her own shadow as it shook with adrenaline.

"You were having a nightmare," was all he said, his voice low and almost drowned out by the sound of her labored breathing. He kept hold of her arm, the grip almost bruising until she let the knife fall to the floor between them. "Started making too much noise. Didn't want it attracting any attention if there's infected outside."

"Sorry," she mumbled, scooting back once she was free from his grasp and running a hand roughly through her hair. She could feel the back of her shirt sticking to her skin, cold sweat clinging to her along with the remnants of her nightmare. He just nodded, not asking any questions or wanting any explanations. For that she was grateful. "Go ahead and sleep. I'll - I'll take over watch."

He watched her for a moment, those wheels in his mind turning so obviously that for a moment she thought he might argue. But the moment passed and he gave another nod, standing up and moving back to the sleeping bag he had laid out across the room. By the time he was laying down, his own gun next to him on the floor, her breathing had started to even out. She knew exhaustion would hit her soon but for now her heart was still racing and sleep wouldn't be her friend any time soon.

the second in command | arsonist's lullabye

the voice on the radio | arsonist's lullabye

the voice on the radio | arsonist's lullabye

I honestly don’t remember writing this

This entire book was just a dream as far as I’m aware.

I honestly don’t remember writing this

This entire book was just a dream as far as I’m aware.

I honestly don’t remember writing this

This entire book was just a dream as far as I’m aware.

I honestly don’t remember writing this

This entire book was just a dream as far as I’m aware.

Uuughhh, your writing is so good 💕💕

Keep up the great work! 🩷

yoo I see requests are open 👀 Grievous is currently living in my head rent free so feel free to ignore the Star Wars if you're not feeling it or ya just don't write for him yes.

hhhh anywho goodness not sure what to ask. maybe some headcanons on what Grievous is like when he falls for someone. he strikes me as someone who would be majorly in denial for a long time lol. gentler (for him) actions and protectiveness not always matching harsh words. like a majorly burnt, kinda stale marshmallow, with a gooey, mostly edible center XD rambling aside or maybe some jealousy headcanons? those are always fun. whichever one might strike your fancy at all.

well I never know how to end these things lol hope you're doing well ✨

Who doesn't love the Angry Lung Cancer Robot? Not me for sure, I love that ugly thing since I first watched the prequels. I'll always be just a lil' spiteful that TCW turned him into a running gag. Sorry if these headcanons are a little less 'professional' than my usual, I couldn't form my thoughts in a way I liked so I figured you'd enjoy it more if I just vomited them out wholesale. And you've waited long enough :'3

---

He definitely strikes me as the 'affection is when I stand 3 centimeters closer' type of person. Like it's going to be just sort of an undertone throughout the ship of like 'yeah the General prefers them/asks for them to do things instead of anyone else, we don't talk about it'. It probably persists for months before anything comes of it.

If you somehow manage to notice it, it's probably a battle of deciding what in the galaxy to do about it if anything. (is getting the attention of a warmonger cyborg a good thing?) If anything you might not do anything about it just so you feel a little safer on the ship. It's not like Grievous has the lowest causality rate, though it's mostly droids.

I don't think he would have the emotional intelligence to really ever realize, someone would have to point it out to him. Perhaps like you said maybe months later he would, but that would be a pipe dream. He's not an easy guy, that's for sure.

Perhaps he'll realize, but he'll excuse it more so as he prefers you for your competency, rather than something a bit deeper. Droids get programmed to report nonemergency issues to you, because not only does he not get infuriated by them as much, he trusts your ability to solve issues just a modicum more than others aboard. A good thing? Maybe. You can deal the negotiations, he'll just stand behind you, menacingly. If things fall through, then he'll be there to make sure you don't get hurt. For strategical reasons, of course.

As for jealousy? Given the previous points I made and your own I think it would be pretty obvious that a jealous Grievous is a Grievous you want to be miles away from. He's more than likely the type that would use violence or threats of in order to keep people away.

He might also deliver things to your directly, or even make your office/barrack/personal quarters towards the bridge of the ship closer to his. It's a mix of both subtle, and horribly unsubtle things.

Anyways, Grevious is a mess. But we never said we could fix him, and that's the fun part. (give the killer cyborg a smooch and tell him he's the best general in the separatist army, he deserves it)