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We used to have a home. 🏚 A simple place, but it was filled with love. Now it’s gone. What remains are memories, silence, and an overwhelming fear of what tomorrow may bring.

Each day, I wake up not knowing if we will make it through the next. My daughter should be learning to walk, to smile at strangers, to feel safe in her world — but instead, she’s learning to live in the middle of a war zone. 🕊️

I’m not writing this to ask for pity. I’m sharing our truth because silence won’t protect us. Maybe, through this message, someone will hear us — and care. 🤍

If you feel moved to share our story or offer support, it would mean more than words can say. Every kind act ripples outward. ✨

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Thank you for taking a moment to listen. 🙏

Yes, oh my goodness, that would be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

Just-

Can I write a little drabble for this? Please? I'm going to

Mike and El quietly creep away from the cabin and into the dark woods surrounding it. El takes Mike's hand and tugs him along gently, taking him on a path that she'd taken by herself many times before.

For awhile, they just stayed silent, enjoying the cool night and each other's company. El had her arms wrapped around Mike's and the fingers of her left hand intertwined with the fingers of his right, her shaven head resting against his shoulder. Mike gripped El's hand tightly, keeping her as close to him as he can in their current position, not trusting what the world does when they aren't right up next to each other.

After awhile, the silence was broken. "So... how does it feel to be back in the cabin after all this time?" Mike asked her.

El shrugged. "Okay." She said. "It is... a bit weird." She ran her thumb over his knuckles lightly, squeezing his hand for a moment.

Mike nodded, more to himself than to her, since she wasn't looking at him. He could tell that it would take some time for her to adjust to it again. She had just started getting used to being out and in public, allowed to go outside and go to places without worrying about other people coming after her when she did. And now here she was again, hiding away in a cabin in the woods and hoping that the people after her don't figure out where she's at. He hated it. He hated that she couldn't just be free for once. The universe could be so cruel.

Mike sighed softly and El turned to look up at him curiously, her brows slightly furrowed. He turned to her and couldn't help but smile. She's so beautiful. He's not even sure she realizes herself just how beautiful she truly is.

She was becoming increasingly more confused now, the longer he kept staring at her. Her forehead was creased and her lips were turned down slightly, her slightly concerned eyes searching his for some kind of sign of what was going on in his head.

He reached up with his free hand and placed it gently on the side of her face, running his thumb over her cheek gently. Her eyes fluttered and her expression changed slightly as she leaned into his touch, a light shade of pink blossoming on her cheeks and her lips turning up into the small smile that he absolutely loved so much.

"You're just so beautiful, El. That's all. I love looking at you." He told her simply.

Her cheeks quickly started switching from light pink to red as her smile grew. She closed her eyes and leaned further into his hand, placing her own free hand over his. She looked like she was trying to hide away from him. But after a moment, her smile faded again.

"Even... even with-" She cut herself off, taking her hand off of his and placing it on top of her head instead, showing what she was asking him.

He frowned and gently moved her hand away before putting his own in its place. He heard her draw in a sharp breath at his touch, but he didn't linger on it for long. He started taking his hand and gently running it over the top of her head, over and over again. He moved slowly, feeling the small amount of hair she had left. It was soft, and kind of fuzzy, and the motions were just as soothing then as they used to be when she did have hair. For the both of them. That's when El realized what Mike was doing. He was running his hands over her head in the same way that he would before her hair was gone. And that was how she had her answer. But even if she hadn't realized it, he apparently wouldn't have left her hanging for very long.

"Yes, El, of course. It doesn't matter if you have hair or not. That's not what makes you beautiful. It's every single part of you, inside and out, and you look just as amazing without hair as you do with hair." He told her truthfully.

There wasn't a single hint of lying or deception in Mike's voice. El knew he went what he said. Mike's always been a terrible liar anyways. "Promise?" She asked him softly.

For a moment, he was in another time. It shook him, how far they've come, how they've grown. And yet, the spark between them, the connection, has always been there, never fading, never lessening. The bond between them only growing stronger as time passes despite everything else that's happened between them. When El asked him that, it sounded almost exactly like the first time she asked him. Except this time, there was less confusion and more love and affection.

He chuckled softly, filled with wonder as he answered her. "Yes, I promise."

They smiled at each other, filled with so much love for the other, eyes shining with unshed tears. Inevitably, what came next was a kiss, but the sprinkling rain that neither of them had noticed picking up into a heavy downpour interrupted them.

"Woah!" Mike laughed and El giggled as they both looked up.

Mike shook off his jacket and held it out for El to put her arms through. "Here, go ahead and put it on." He told her.

"But Mike, that's your jacket, you need it, too." She protested stubbornly.

He shook his head at her, a few strands of his hair getting into his face. "No, it's fine, I'd rather you wear it instead. I'm serious, just take it, please." He insisted.

El sighed at him and smiled, slipping her arms through the jacket and pulling it around her. When she turned back around to face Mike, he took the ends of the jacket and joined them together, zipping it up for her. She giggled slightly at how long the jacket was on her due to her boyfriend's height. She had to push the sleeves up so that her hands weren't drowning in them.

When she looked back up, Mike was immediately placing his hands on either side of her face. "I love you." He said warmly.

El bit her lip, barely able to contain the little squeal that tried to make its way out of her at his words. "I love you, too." She said, mirroring his actions but on his face instead of her own. And then they were leaning forward until their lips met, the two of them sharing a loving kiss as the rain poured down on them.

After a moment, Mike removed his hands from her face and instead wrapped both of his arms around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could. El wrapped one arm around his upper back and the other went to the back of his head, the both of them clinging to each other like they thought the other would suddenly vanish into thin air if they didn't keep them close.

They stayed like that for a long while, exchanging slow, sweet, loving kisses. Only when slow and sweet started to take a turn, and only then, they pulled away. Neither of them were anywhere near ready to dive into the exploration of that type of passion yet, content to just be with each other as they have been up to this point. They knew they had plenty of time together, there wasn't any kind of rush.

Mike smiled happily at El, both of them soaked completely. "We should probably get back to the cabin now." He said, laughing a bit at the two of them in the rain like this.

El nodded. "Yes, we should." Her lips twisted slightly like she was considering something, then she looked at him with a hopeful expression, her eyes widening slightly. "Hot chocolate?" She asked Mike.

Mike grinned as he placed his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. We can definitely get some hot chocolate." He told her, before leaning over and kissing her temple. She leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist, and together they made their way back to the little cabin.

They tried their best to sneak back in quietly, being extra careful due to the water dripping off of their clothes and onto the floor. They went and grabbed the towels that Joyce had placed in the mostly bare bathroom and El dragged her new blankets out of her bedroom so they they could wrap themselves up and start to dry off.

They snuck past Will and Jonathan sleeping in the living room and into the kitchen, where Mike made them both hot chocolate as quietly as possible, El trying to stifle her giggles at him everytime he managed to make a little too much noise.

Afterwards, they sat together and consumed their sweet drinks, not talking much, just happy to be together. When Joyce peeked into El's room in the late morning of the next day, she found them wrapped up in towels and blankets, curled up together in El's bed, the door wide open and happy, content smiles on their sleeping faces.

Milevens everywhere:

"El doesn't need a man!"

"El needs therapy, not a boyfriend!"

Will doesn't need a man, either. Will needs therapy, too. But you demand Mike be there at his therapy sessions, holding his hand. Meanwhile, you want El alone, or with someone she has no romantic feelings for, or dead.

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‘ Rook knew her, she couldn't have been anyone else - it was Sansa Stark. Her hair was the sunset hue of a Tully like her mother, the same sharp features softened by her young face. Her dress was powder-blue, her fingers anxiously rubbing the fabric of her skirts together. If Rook's father got his way, which he undoubtedly always did, Rook would be marrying her someday. ‘

Description: The night before your husband leaves for battle he tells you of his aspirations for the throne. You in turn confess your fears.

“I spoke with Cole, told him it is time for someone better to sit on the Iron Throne, and that will be me. Obviously.” Aemond says, his head resting on your thigh, his silver hair splayed out against the light blue fabric of your nightshift.

You say nothing, only continue combing your fingers through his hair. To speak in agreement with him would be treason, to speak against him would be your undoing.

“That this is where my reign begins.” He continues, the one arm around your waist tightening as he looks up at you, expectant.

She teaches him about love and care and that a husband should not tolerate his wife, he should cherish her. Aemond is perceptive enough to see the way his father waves off his mother’s concern. The sight of her, the only one to defend him after losing his eye is one that will stick with his for the rest of his life. He promises her that when the time comes and she chooses a match for him, he will be a faithful and loving husband as the Gods (and his mother) intends. 

When it happens and you are named his betrothed you’re….unsettled. 

Not because of his eye. Gods no, you think its beautiful and captivating just like the rest of him. What worries you is that your soon-to-be-husband is…robotic. 

He bows his head and kisses your hand upon introduction. Calls you “my lady” accompanies you to court and walks through the garden, but its all too rehearsed and empty. 

Each move of his hand and word from his mouth sounds as if it has been practice several times over with no emotion behind it. There’s no care within them, only precision. You beleive he’s bored of you. A man of his status has no desire for a wife, only bitter obligation. 

But that isn’t right. 

The truth isn’t that Aemond is cruel or cold to you. He’s inexperienced. 

He is the king’s son, but he hides a vicious scar on his face that ladies of the court whisper when they think he cannot hear them. He knows more of swordsmanship and philosophy than he could ever dream to know about women. 

So when you curtsy and call him “lord husband” he goes silent. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, eyes grazing over his face without fear or disgust but instead curiosity. He falls back on the lessons he had with his mother, of how a man should address a woman and where his hand should lay on your waist never too high and never too low so as to not draw foul rumors to your name. 

i feel like dark shadow would make it worse too because he’d probably tease fumi like “her eyes are so pretty, wonder what they’d look like with tears in them” or “she always blushes when you hug her, imagine how much she’d blush when you’re inside her.”

and all fumikage can do is jerk off to the thought of you after your dates. if you can affect him this much while barely touching him, he knows he’s gonna go crazy when he finally has you beneath him.

i love this idea more than words can express.

Requ: May I request a piece with Aemond x Blackwood!Reader? Was thinking that the oldest daughter of the Blackwoods gets betrothed to Aemond in order for the Greens to gain their support, Aemond is not ecstatic about it but he finds that lady Blackwood is fascinating person, very intelligent and very much..like him.So of course he slowly falls for her and in spite of her cold/sarcastic demeanour she truly sees Aemond for who he is and falls for him at first glance (but of course he doesn't have to know that:).

Summary: Aemond is forced to marry a woman he was more than happy to ignore. But her sarcasm, brain skills and a knee injury makes him feel a bit too passionate for her.

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

Your father had quickly changed his colors as soon as the largest dragon in existence landed on the mountain closest to his castle. Of course, Aemond showed no threat; he knew he had to get an army that was willing to defend Aegon, not hate him. So he passively aggressively asked for the army of Lord Samwell Blackwood, who ruled a considerable part of the Riverlands, in exchange for something else. And of course, the lord had you, a daughter of appropriate age, hard to marry and smart enough to know how to grow the Blackwood power at court. So he asked for a marriage. You could see the Prince let out a sigh from your hiding place, but he agreed. It was a conscious decision that you found yourself "indisposed" in the days leading up to your wedding. In these, you spent your time wandering the corridors in the shadows, following the Prince at a distance and meeting the women with reliable sources who told you what Aemond Targaryen was like. Best of all, you knew he knew nothing of you. That was an advantage.

The wedding was rushed, held in your own home, making it clear to the Tullys and Bracken that their support for Aegon was expected. If they did not support your House, you were likely to be the victim of a mysterious death, and the Brackens would be happy with the news, but the Tullys would not. You were dressed in red, the black was entirely removed from your dress, and your jewels and veil silvered. Under the veil you could see him watching you with that blue eye, and when he withdrew it, you could see an indecipherable change in his face. Whether he was happy or not didn't matter to you, because he was surprised, and that was interesting. You exchanged vows, touching his hand for the first time, as cold as you expected, and he could hear your voice. He only looked away when you looked at him, but the rest of the time you were sure he was following you. He kissed your hand courteously at the end of the ceremony.

"Does your wine not please you, my lady?" His voice surprised you, his gaze resting on your glass, still full.

"It pleases me as much as it surely pleases you, my Prince," you replied. He hadn't had a drop either.

"I'm tryingto keep a clear mind."

"Some men drink their fill precisely to clear their heads. Besides, you shouldn't be nervous, I'll tell you which hole is the right one."

The sly grin that appeared on your face made him clench his jaw in frustration. Perhaps, a dragon rider, such a fearful prince, would react with fists and shouts at the taunt. But Aemond decided to pick up his goblet and take a good swallow.

"It's going to be a long night, I'm afraid," he said it as a kind of threat, but to you it sounded as if it was more of a nightmare.

And he stared at his failure to scare you, as you continued to eat with glee.

The bedding was not public thanks to your father, but you did spend the night with Aemond. He was reluctant to undress, so neither did you. He sat in front of the fire in your room while you watched Vhagar from your balcony.

"Are you going to force me to ride on the dragon to King's Landing?" You asked without turning around.

"If you prefer, go on horseback. But by the time you reach the castle I will have marched off to war." He sounded serious.

"It doesn't sound as bad as you think it does."

You heard him rise from the chair, and then you were a little afraid. He walked quickly towards you, placing his face inches from yours, his hands grasping and squeezing your arms.

"Then you will enjoy an extremely lonely time, my dear. No one will know who you are and neither they would want to find out. And if I die in battle, with no heirs, no one will ever care for you. They'll send you back here and you'll become old and a burden. And if we lose the war, there will be no one to protect you." His soft voice spoke calmly despite the venom they gave off.

"I never said I didn't want to ride in Vhagar, my Prince." Your reassurance surprised him, as did your hands resting on his chest gently. "I'd rather ride and stay there with you...I'm sure it's much more fun."

And without further ado, you turned away and set about sleeping, or pretending to. Aemond never got to lie in bed with you. But soon he would, you needed time. The flight to King's Landing was quick, in silence and quite impressive. Clinging more to the chair than to Aemond, you didn't tell him how impressed you were with the sensation. He didn't want to ask you any questions, but looked at you in search for something to make him feel satisfied, but it was hard to impress you. When you landed, he helped you off the beast and you decided not to let go of his hand. And so the Dowager Queen Alicent saw you.

"Did you enjoy your flight?" she asked politely.

"The truth is, yes. Now I understand why children are willing to lose precious things in exchange for flying with them..." they both looked at you quizzically. Of course, the source of the loss of Aemond's eye was just a rumour, a rumour you had heard. You smiled, noting the tension in both of them. "Like little Ronnel Arryn when Visenya asked him to surrender."

Your explanation was enough for Alicent, but Aemond could tell it was a trick answer, that you had someone else in mind. And when you reached your chambers, the one you would share for the rest of your lives, Aemond did not hesitate to corner you against the wall in one of his graceful moves. His hands rested on your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to keep you quiet and your gaze locked with his.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I don't like a single tone in your voice." His voice was laden with anger, anger at not knowing. "You think by smiling at the end of every sentence people forget how irritating you are."

"You barely know me..." you tried to say with his fingers so tightly pressed to your face. "But I'm glad to see I was right to bet that I was going to have a good time with you."

"I'm not a buffoon." His face was so close to yours that you had to turn your own away.

"I know better, my Prince. With that hair and that dragon there is no doubt about it. It must bother you that there are people in the kingdom who don't see Jacaerys and Lucerys for what they really are...mustn't it?"

His hand loosened slightly, and Aemond seemed to calm down. He waited for you to draw another smirk again, watching your lips slowly. But that smile did not come, for you knew you had hit the nail on the head. Your bad luck was that Aemond was almost as smart as you, and only trusted you for those brief seconds. Then he squeezed your face again before releasing it abruptly.

Even though Aemond was constantly wandering, Helaena was the best company. She was the one who explained to you everything that was really going on in that castle, even though it was hard to understand her. Her words were never clear, and she got lost in the middle of conversations. What reassured you most was that Aemond was a tender brother, caring for the children Aegon had neglected from the beginning. And if Aemond was patient with a girl like Helaena, it indicated that there must be something good in the prince everyone feared. Now all that remained was to keep him more than a few minutes at your side.

Then came the opportunity to visit Oldtown, to meet Daeron and make sure that the Hightower would support the Greens and how good that support was. On this dragon ride, you decided to put your hands on his waist, consciously moving them all over his abdomen, trying to unnerve him. And at your attempts, Aemond commanded Vhagar to fly in a brute and exaggerated way. A bad idea, for although she managed to scare you, the dragon was very old and hurt herself, brushing against the mountains as you passed Horn Hill. Had they been higher, you would have been killed, but Aemond controlled the situation before it got worse, and the fall only resulted in a rough landing in the mountains.

"Why did you do that?" you shouted as soon as you saw that Aemond was still alive, a few metres away. He was able to get up and approach you, putting on the patch before you could see him without it. "We could have died!"

"You were the one triying to to piss me off!" You were still lying on the ground, your leg felt sore, and you didn't want to move it.

"Is that why you asked Vhagar to shake himself in the air?" You were indignant, somewhat flattered, but mostly indignant.

"You were trying to distract me!" he justified himself, looking down at you from above.

"You should have told me to stop!"

"And would you have stopped?"

He watched as you fell silent. Obviously you wouldn't have, you would have ended up finding some other way to irritate him. Then Aemond offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it. But a pain in your leg made you grunt and fall back down. It was sharp, but not exaggerated. Aemond bent down to check your wound, and without any embarrassment, lifted your skirt.

"Wow, you can do that and I can't hold on to your chest?" Even in pain, you still laughed at him. And Aemond's gaze commanded you to shut up.

His hands gently touched your knee, and the pain returned. You saw Aemond quickly pull his hands away and cover you again.

"Good thing it's not broken," he said, standing up again.

"What a joy... Now you're just going to leave me lying here?"

With another deep sigh of his own, he lifted you up without difficulty, careful not to move your knee too much. And it took you a while to mount Vhagar again.

This time you would not be behind, but in front of Aemond, both legs to one side, and Aemond's arms as a barrier. He placed your hands firmly on the collar of his coat and your legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his. Your face was basically buried in his neck and his scent clouded any other scent.

"Don't move" he whispered in your ear. And you didn't, also, you didn't wanted to. The rest of the flight was quiet and pleasant, and you could watch Aemond's face as much as you wished to. The arrival in Oldtown was rushed to say the least, Aemond wanted to leave you with the Maesters while he met with the more important lords.

"But I want to be present," you demanded, still in his arms.

"Your leg must be checked," he justified.

"I want to know everything, I refuse to have made this journey to stay locked up in my room.

"You simply can't."

He spoke to you as if you were stupid, but when you grabbed his coat tightly, you surprised him with your change of tone.

"Take me with you right now, Aemond, or I swear you will lose the support of the Rivelands with one word from me."

He could barely attend to the meeting, seeing you sitting with dignity in the chair, attentive to the words of the lords and maesters, and disguising the pain in your leg. He felt rather guilty, for besides, Aemond had gained nothing, for you continued to impress everyone who came across you. You knew by heart all the information you had received, you knew what your father was planning, and what Otto was planning. You looked like the Princess, not Aemond. And when the meeting was over, he saw you stand up with a grimace, and ran to hold you, letting you lean your full weight on him slyly.

"Now you're really going to see a Maester, wife."

"About time, this is all your fault."

He was going to argue, but as he turned he saw that smile again. Something in him melted and he knew he had to surrender to you, for he was losing that futile battle.

In the room, with your knee smeared with a medicated cream and covered with care, Aemond saw you reposition yourself on the bed, now comfortable.

"I didn't know you liked politics," Aemond said, watching you from across the room.

"I don't. But I want to survive."

"You don't trust us to win this war?"

"I trust nothing, ever. You have to be prepared for anything."

"I agree," he moved closer to the bed. He brushed your sore knee gently. "Does that mean you'll never trust me?"

"For starters, you tried to shake me off your dragon."

Aemond's gaze softened, moving his hand away from your knee but sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. You made me nervous."

"And to continue," you interrupted him, "you won't let me get to know you. And I remind you that you are now my husband."

"I've never met a woman who wants to be so involved with her husband's affairs." He smiled slightly, wryly.

"That's because you don't know many women...as the rumours say."

"The rumours?" you nodded. "Do you listen to the rumours?"

"No, I just listen and wait. You'd be surprised how many times I've seen them confirmed. Just now was one of them."

"You think I haven't been with a lot of women?" Aemond slowly bent down to close the distance, and his breath circled over your face. You had to hide your nervousness, for he didn't seem angry this time.

"You don't like my touch... But I assumed it was because I am little more than a stranger to you. I do not think you a virgin, but I know you have loved few women. If you ever have..." His weight began to fall on top of you, covering you with his body.

"And what else do the rumours say?"

"That your eye is replaced with a diamond. Though I've also heard that it's empty dark, and that's why you cover it."

His lips landed on your neck, where he left you a soft kiss.

"And what do you think I'm wearing?" His voice sounded husky and you felt its vibration.

"I've seen your books, many of history, and many of gemstones, an incredible boring reading... But not to look like a diamond man." You turned your face to him, forcing him to look at you, and saw his blue eye with the pupil dilated, glittering. "It's a stone, but not a diamond."

"And what stone do you think it is, wife?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking more about other things. And I have little interest in what's behind a patch. You covered your eye for a reason and I will respect that."

He seemed surprised, your tone was, for the first time, serious and cutting. And he liked that better than he expected.

"Everything I've heard about you is that you were a hard woman to marry."

"That's because no one delivered what I asked for. I have not been so obedient to my father's orders when offering my hand to a random lord."

"And what is it you ask, my lady?"

"I am no longer a lady."

"True, my princess." He couldn't help but smile when he saw the pride appear on your face.

"What I ask, my prince...is that my marriage will bring change to House Blackwood. It is because of us that The Riverland is so powerful. And the Tullys and Brackens get all the credit. We were kings once. And we can be kings again. Just one dragon can be incredible powerfull."

Aemond stroked your hair, then your lips with his thumb. You let your husband touch you tenderly for the first time. You caressed that face too, and Aemond kissed your fingers.

"I find it hard to believe that my wife seems tailor-made for me," he said at last. "We may die as Princes, but I swear to you our children will be kings."

"But that requires some irritating and distracting...Touches."

"I will have to make the sacrifice then of-" Aemond tried to joke, but you cut him off, kissing him at last on those lips.

(also I think he'll probably have atleast an above average fashion taste since his parents are both fashion designers~)