#second prince

Li Yu absolutely same. If I was transmigrated you better believe I would want to see every person! p74

But also I need to bring up this sentence for foreshadowing reasons, "Prince Jing had demonstrated a commendable aptitude for pet fish care so far. But there was no way he could be this attentive, right?" yeah he's gonna be attentive alright. p74

okay, we have a hot but awful woman. Why is this always the way. Why hot and evil. p76

God the emperor and Xiaohui went through so much to get Prince Jing. So awful. I feel bad for them and that experience of losing so many children. p77

The way I immediately disliked the consort and second prince. Their energy is awful. I would cross the street if saw either of them in the wild. p77

Li Yu: Hey! Don't touch me, I'm trying to watch my dramas! p78

I love how they're all in the middle of this court drama and Prince Jing and this fish are just vibing while the emperor watches them. So so weird. p79

God, it's worse. She's hot, evil, AND a pick-me girl. pls. She is the worst character in this book. p79

Nooooo! Not the cat going for seconds. Li Yu, you better hide! p80

The fish trauma he has developed. :'( p81

I take it all back from when I said that the cat didn't deserve to be punished for being a cat. Fuck this cat in particular. I am fully team fish at this point. p81

The dramatics that this mother/son duo have going on is far too much, So extra. p82,

Okay but

I still couldn't tell you what the fish bowl looks like or how that cat climbed up to the fish and attempted to swipe it without ruining the shit out of Prince Jing's skin LMAO.

 "Where is he?" he demands.

Pacing outside of the medical chambers like a caged animal. About face, one, two, and third steps about space. Stopping at the howls slipping through the thick doors.

"I know my son. We must remove the damage!" The master explains over the cries. "Hold him down!". Shutting his eyes tight as the ear-piercing scream resumes.

Shuffling of footsteps, pouring of waters, then silence. 

Throwing the doors open and grabbing hold of his sword caused yelps of the startled group of women aiding the head maester. 

A young man lay limp in a bath set close to the window. Marching over to the young acolyte, and of few Vhagar allowed to even come near her, let alone tend to her health needs due to her old age. His head hung off the back of the lip of the tub. Face lax and peaceful. His left arm was tightly wrapped in bandages tinged green from the healing paste across his shoulder, where other scars lay. 

 Trophies of an acolyte, he would say. 

 Submerged up to the chest in goat’s milk. His hair shined with oils as it was brushed back, braided, and pinned up and out of the way.

 "He is alright, your highness. Nearly drank himself sick, but a higher power must be watching over him."

 "What of his injury?"

 "The breath of Arrax, I believe. Thankfully, due to his immaturity, the damage could have been far worse."

 "Leave us!" he grits. The Maester shutters, gesturing for the gaggle of women to file out of the room, bowing their heads to the prince on the way out.

The doors thundered closed, leaving the whistling wind of the open window and crackling fire. He removes his sword, which clatters to the ground carelessly, tugging his tunic free, crawling on hands and knees, staring down at his acolyte’s upside-down face. He takes the time to watch him.

 Each breath he takes, tremor in his upper lip.

 The dragon and his keeper

 The space between Y/N brows wasn't knitted together, and his mouth was agape as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

Aemond rests his head on his cheek, holding his head and slitting his fingers between his ears. The Acolyte's eyes opened, looking around.

Following the twinkling lights of the lit chandelier above. His eyes trailed about, falling on the second son of the king, placing gentle kisses along the bridge of his nose.

  "Little Prince." He squeals with a comically wide grin, looping his arms around his neck and reeling him in.

 Aemond sighs through his nose, but amusement shines in his eyes. Taking his wrapped arm into his hold, he inspects it. A firm yet gentle touch, noting the mobility from the shoulder, elbow, wri---

 The acolyte tugs in Aemond’s hold. Hissing and quickly biting his lip meant to keep the pain from displaying.

 "Which bastard." The prince hissed.

 "All fault lies on me. Caging up two dragons who have been free reign for however many years. It’s---"

 "You are not at fault! Because of them, I lost an eye, and because of them, you are burned. I am done suffering because of the stain they are to the Targaryen name."

 "You are still here." He sits up to look at the prince head-on. "I am still here. Thank the gods for the few blessings they bestow and not get stuck in the past over petty resentments." Aemond breathes, closing his eye and putting his fury aside for now. Holding his wrapped hand, lifting it to his lips. Rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

 Reaching over to the small table next to the tub for a small cup. Gulps down the drink, leaning back and exhaling a deep moan in euphoria.

 "Mother's milk." He breathes. Eyes fluttering up to the lights.

 "Milk of the Poppy." Aemond corrects softly, smiling at this new state of his acolyte that he has never encountered before.

 "Care to partake?" Y/N tempts. Aemond leans forward, capturing his lips. Hungrily devouring. Sucking and pulling his bottom lip. Sweet. Trailing his tongue to capture the remains still left on his lips.

 A chuckle drums in his chest as the prince unbuckles his belt and laces on his trousers.

 "What are you doing?"

 "Taking care of you." He mutters in just his undershirt as he climbs into the bath.

 "If that's what you want to call it," Y/N breath hitched at the feeling of his teeth leaving marks on his neck. Aemond’s hands traced his sides, his touch scorching. "A goat wanting to be devoured," he yelps as Aemond nips his nipple, making sure to leave an impression.

 "My apologies. You mentioned devour and you taste delectable," he grins cockily, blood on his lip. "I’ll kiss it," he coos, pecking his lips. "Make it better."

 "Take off the shirt and see how you like bruised nipples." Y/N points with his eyes at the two erect points through the wet clothing.

 "You already know the answer."

House of the Dragon Masterlist