#[ poor Robert is being ignored ]

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarch names from least moanable to the most moanable - entirely subjective.

Factors taken into account:

Name length

How easy it is to say

General vibes ('imagine having sex with a guy and having to moan gilbert')

I wrote this instead of sleeping. I don't know either. This is getting posted and I will probably never address it again if I don't delete it during my break tomorrow. I should not be given internet access past 11pm.

Perturabo

It pained me to put him all the way down (up?) here at the least moanable as I fear he may actually be one of my favourites, however... I am not delusional enough to ignore that not only is this a pretty long name, a good amount of people struggle not only to say it but to even spell it. Not at all dyslexia friendly. I would give it a good go but I feel like in order to enjoy yourself you kind of have to accept you will be calling him 'Perty' or 'Bo' or whatever you prefer.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius fans please spare me but this is a long ass name at 3? 4? syllables. I don't even know what you could call him for short instead. However, I don't doubt that it's entirely possible, I just think it would take a while to stop stuttering through.

Mortarion

Another long name. Are you sensing a pattern yet? I am. More moanable due to having less vowels than Sanguinius and less harsher (?) consonants like in Perturabo. Pretty middle of the road, easy to pronounce, could probably be easier if you just start calling him 'Morty' instead.

Alpharius / Omegon

Alpharius is again another longer name that I feel like I would trip over for a good couple weeks. I am NOT shorting it to Alpha. I must maintain my dignity, whatever crumbs of it remain. Omegon is an easier name - likely due to it having less syllables (3 rather than 4). However, I feel like the only way to shorten it would be 'Meg' and that would make me laugh and I would get distracted. Remember how I said this is subjective? This is why.

Jaghatai

3 syllables, easy enough to say, not a lot of vowels or harsher consonants to trip over. Incredibly doable, and I'm sure many have tried it. Hell, I'd certainly take a good stab at it.

Angron

Harsh G right in the middle, otherwise no complaints really. 2 syllables. Straight forward. You could certainly give it a good go.

Rogal

2 syllables - easy right? Wrong. Evil G right there in the middle again. Probably would have been higher (lower?) on the list if it was softened with maybe an H right after. Alas, it is not so.

Corvus

2 incredibly easy syllables. The V is a little evil (harsh) but with a relatively short name and a soft starting consonant I'm sure it's manageable. Best bird boy. Not much else to say.

Fulgrim

Although apparently a good chunk of people have given it a go - or at least his wives have - we're back to the G dilemma. Personally I'd suggest calling him 'Fulgie' - like Fergie but worse.

Konrad

Quite possibly the most normal name on the whole list. Konrad. Everyone can say Konrad. An easy two syllables with the harshest letter right at the start. Easy peasy.

Roboute

I actually don't know if this is 2 syllables or 3. I even went and looked on Reddit. Some people are saying Ro-Bou-Te, I've been reading it Ro-Boot. Either way these are easy, with the harshest sound being the T of all things. Either way I don't think moaning for poor long suffering Robert is too tricky.

Vulkan

Deceptively soft V and K. What a pleasant surprise. Anyone could moan this easily, and he'd probably be delighted.

Lion

Objectively this is incredibly easy, which is why it made it so high (low?) on the scale. However, I would argue moaning 'Lion' in full sincerity is somewhat hilarious. That sure is the name of an incredibly powerful (and unfortunately incredibly sexy) man.

Magnus

Easy to moan. Probably wouldn't mind if you gave it a go. Again, one of the easier names. I'm sure he'd be happy to tutor you on the subject.

Lorgar

Flows nicely, 2 short syllables, incredibly straight forward. Started mentally calling him 'Lorgie', never recovered.

Ferrus

Incredibly straight forward name. Ferrus, pronounced the same as Ferrous, like the iron tablets. Something something you should do it, it's medicinal.

Leman

Not at the top due to the time it took to decide whether it was Lee-man or Le-man (like lemon). Personal gripe, but if you've gotten this far down without understanding that I don't know what to tell you. Quick, easy, sure why not.

Horus

As much as I wish to be deeply spiteful and shove him somewhere unremarkable in the middle, I just can't do it. This is an easy name. Don't worry, if you struggle at all I'm sure he'd be willing to let you keep trying until you figure it out. Bastard.

[omgthatdress]

Behind the Bastards, a podcast that I love because it's usually really thorough with its research and the host, Robert Evans, has a really great, complex understanding of history, recently did two episodes about Beau Brummel and the invention of the modern suit which..... I have a few issues with.

Beau Brummel is a name that comes up A LOT with a period known as "the great male renunciation," that is, the period at the turn of the 19th century when menswear went from colorful and flamboyant to being simple and subdued.

Brummell often gets credited at the sole reason behind this trend, and while he was one of the people who played a tremendous role in shaping it, it's false to say that he and he alone was the reason it became fashionable.

Now I will give BtB a lot of credit because they do recognize that Brummel was very much shaped by the environment he grew up in, and recognize that social change was a major factor behind the great male renunciation (for real, I'd say the episodes are worth listening to), but there's a lot that they leave out.

While they talk about the American and French revolutions shaking up the British upper class, they ignore the third, even bigger revolution that was changing the very nature of wealth and masculinity: the industrial revolution.

Suddenly, men who had been born poor could make amounts of wealth equaling and even exceeding the titled nobility. Simply having shitloads of money was no longer sufficient to be considered a gentleman, so the nature of being a gentleman had to change.

This was a trend that Brummell noticed and became an icon of. Rather than slathering yourself in expensive perfumes, you should bathe daily. Rather than gaudy, over-the-top colorful silks, a man should focus on the quality of his fabrics and clothes. This is where the upper class concept of "taste" came in.

It's not enough to buy ostentatious displays of wealth, it's how to display your wealth without being obvious. A sort of secret language that only a truly fine gentleman can understand.

There were bigger changes that went beyond Brummell. While he still lived the life of an upper-class dilettante, the definition of "a man of quality" was changing to go against that type. A true gentleman was educated, worldly, serious, studious and industrious. He had more to offer than his wealth and wit, although those never truly went out of style.

In a lot of ways, Brummell defined and exemplified this era, but he wasn't the sole reason behind all of it. If Brummell's serious, simple military-inspired outfits were the prototype for the modern suit, there's a lot of reasons that they caught on and became what they are today.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: SFW, Joffrey is Joffrey, ANGST ANGST ANGST

Word Count: 5.3K

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 2

Joffrey's hatred towards you started when he was a teen and grew tremendously as he became older. He remembered you being an amazing sister, reading him stories when he was a child. Walking with him around the garden and to the Red Keep but he yearned for the attention of his father. Robert’s attention was always captured by the fancy wine, his whores and you. He knew Robert’s love for you is boundless, there was simply no end to it. Robert never yelled at you or hit you even when you protected Joffrey after he killed the kitchen cat.

He disemboweled the poor feline when he found out it was pregnant. He wanted to see the kittens, he cried out as you held him so he didn’t receive a second hit from his father. You stopped defending Joffrey when he became more ill-mannered. His hatred towards you began when you yelled at him for being discourteous to your help.

“Mind your manners when it comes to those who work for me. My servants are not bitches and my guard is not a dog. Learn to respect, brother.” You scolded him then turned to console one of your servants.

It's been a month after the events of Robert accepting your refusal to wed your betroth in Dorne. Cersei hasn't spoken to you and so didn't Joffrey, he grew more annoyed by the fact that you didn't care at all. You went on talking with Robert, to your uncles and his younger siblings. Joffrey was looking out the balcony trying his best to take short breaths so he didn’t have to smell the shit coming from below where the commoners live. He was staring out because he heard the ruckus you were making this morning. You didn’t break fast with them, he hasn't seen you all morning. Of course, Robert was fine with it. He told Cersei you were busy with your activities.

“Feeding the poor is one of her activities now?” Cersei spoke with a mocking tone. She got angry when Robert straight up ignored her and continued on with his meal.

Joffrey rolled his eyes when he finally found you. You were walking with Sandor up and down the streets of King’s Landing. Sandor walked behind you as he led his horse. Joffrey’s blue eyes hardened when he saw a group forming in front of you. Your smile didn’t break when they got near you, Joffrey couldn’t believe you could be near them. They reeked of shit, he couldn’t even be around them for 5 minutes before he started to gag.

Your smile didn't falter, it grew bigger as you walked around the dark mare to open the bags draped over its body. The people's eyes widened when you came back with slices of bread and cheeses wrapped in a white cloth. Sandor remains silent as he looks over at you then at his surroundings.

Joffrey walks away from the balcony when you continue to walk around with Sandor. It was evening and Sandor can tell you were tired. You were walking slower, you were up at dawn wrapping bread and cheese with the servants of the kitchen. This wasn’t something new, he’s been walking around King’s Landing with you feeding the people for years. You were kind unlike your family, Sandor thinks as he passes the last house that stood at the bottom of the hill. He had told you it would have been better to ride in a carriage so you wouldn’t have to walk all over the place but you told him you didn’t mind it. You wanted to speak with the people and have a close interaction with them.

“Princess.” Sandor looks over at the last house to see an elderly woman walking out of the front door. She bowed her head when she got close to you.

“How are you today?” You asked, grabbing the last bundles in the bag.

“Better now that you are here.” Sandor watches as you give her a smile while handling her food.

Sandor bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling as he watches you communicate with her. You spoke to her like an equal. You’re the first to ever do it with the commoners. That’s why they called you the Realms Delight. It was one of the many reasons why Sandor fell in love with you. You never looked down at anyone, you treated everyone with kindness especially to the unfortunate.

When it tends to bite you in the ass because of it that’s why he’s there with you. Sandor has threatened people throughout the years since you started giving food out. People got ahead of themselves and took too many bundles. He was always there to make sure everyone got their share. He gives them a stare down when they begin to fight with others for more food.

He remembers the first time the children from the orphanage wouldn’t get near you since he was behind you.

“No need to fear. Sandor and Stranger are here to help me.” You tell the children but they don’t believe you until a man tries to cut the line. Sandor bares his teeth, sending him running away.

“You see. Sandor is here to help me to make sure everyone gets their share.” The children calms down as Sandor brings Stranger closer to you so you start passing out the bundles.

“Remember to eat up so you can grow tall and strong like Sandor.” He shakes his head as you tell the children before walking away.

Sandor was so busy remembering the past that he didn’t notice you were walking inside the older woman’s house. Sandor shouted your name and you waved at him to come inside. He leans down to get his big frame past the door frame. When he gets through he notices you were talking with a young girl. Sandor awkwardly stood by the front door as you talked with her. The young girl was the older woman’s daughter. They were all alone after the woman’s husband died from the recent war. He was unaware when you placed a comforting hand on the woman's knee. A war broke out not long ago, your father’s brother wanted to be King. Robert brushed it off but soon it became clear that his brother was serious when he received support from other houses. All you could do is pray for when the next war breaks out that your father would win it again.

Sandor heard the words working and tavern but didn’t pay attention to it. He was busy looking around to make sure no harm would come to you. As much as you like to believe the people in King’s Landing wouldn't hurt you. Sandor thought the opposite. His eyes almost pop out of his head when he sees you sitting on a chair, pulling your dress up to your knees so you can remove your black slippers.

“Seven Hells!” He shouts but you look over at him with a stern face that shuts him up.

“Princess! No! Please. We can not.” The mother tells you while the daughter is pushing the slippers back towards you.

“Nonsense! You can’t work with those shoes. They are falling apart.” You pointed at the old slippers near the bed by the daughter.

“Princess Y/n.” Sandor calls out walking towards you. You were getting out of hand now, passing food was one thing but giving up your belongings was something else completely.

“Sandor. Please.” You look up at him. How can he say no when you look at him with those puppy dog eyes.

Sandor’s nostrils flare but he looks away from you letting you continue on. He hears that you tell the girl to take it. If they were too big or small to have the cobbler fix it. He hears the coins clinking together as you grab a hold of your small pouch that was kept strapped on your waist.

He looks out the door when the mother and daughter start to cry by your kindness, giving them money to make sure the shoes would fit properly. He walks out when you mention to them that you should be returning back to the castle. Sandor had already pulled the bags off of Stranger and draped it over his shoulders.

“Get up here.” Sandor tells you when he saw you were about to walk barefoot up the hill. Sandor helps you up, settling you on top of Stranger. He wanted to snap at you but couldn't when he saw the smile you had on your face.

“Why?” Sandor asked you after a moment of silence.

He can’t comprehend why you were so kind to everyone. He knew you had the ability to manipulate, manipulate men, and the king but you never did use it for anything wicked. Years of him guarding you; you’ve never changed, you've always been kind since the very start but he just can’t wrap his head around the idea of it. Maybe because he was so used to being treated like shit by his brother and by others when he was younger that it was normal to him.

“Remember what you told me two weeks after guarding me?” You asked him, looking down at him as he walked side by side with Stranger.

“Aye.” Sandor answered you with a nod. He had snapped at you because you were being too nice with the guards. Your intentions with them were innocent and nothing more. You didn’t notice their beady eyes ranking up and down your figure.

“You were the first man to ever tell me how this world works. Mother told me a few things on how to get what I want but you showed me a whole other side of the world beyond the castle’s wall.” Sandor senses a sadness in your voice.

“There is so much pain and sorrow in this world. I want to ease their pain, even if it’s just a little bit.” You look towards the castle.

“I am grateful to have survived the fever when I was a babe. I was born into a wealthy family. I have a roof over my head and I will never go hungry. My relationship with my family may not be the best, but I have my father.” You told him as you felt Stranger’s soft fur against your toes.

“ And I have you.” You said looking down at him with a smile.

He will never get used to your kind words and it makes him dread even more when the day comes for you to get married to some Lord, leaving him all alone in King's Landing. He will miss it, miss everything. He will miss hanging out with you, guarding you and loving you. When he and you finally made it to the stables, he shook his head letting all those sad thoughts of you leaving, disappear.

The stable boys welcome you and you greet them with a smile, asking them about their family. Sandor huffs at you, he doesn't even know their names, he was impressed on how you remembered most of the people's names that work for your father. He keeps quiet as you speak with them.

The stable boys walked out as Sandor brought Stranger into his stall. The dark mare wasn’t fond of other people that weren't Sandor.. You grabbed a hold on Sandor's shoulders as he put you down to the ground.

“It’s evening.” You told him. The stable boys were already leaving for the day. He places you on top of his shoes so you won't touch the dirty stable floor. Stranger is eating the hay placed out for him in the corner as Sandor shuts the door, pushing you against it, lifting you up to meet his face.

“I do, enjoy evenings.” He tells you. Evenings were the best, the workers were retreating back home, others were already at the castle breaking fast to eat dinner. King Robert and Queen Cersei should already be drunk out of their minds. Both of you can be alone, he can be close to you now. Your face is flushed from being outside all day, he feels your legs wrapped around his waist, he hides his face between your neck and shoulder.

“Spend the night with me. We can bathe and eat.” Sandor grips his hold on you tighter as you kiss his mutilated ear.

“You can fuck me.” You whisper and he looks at you by your choice of words. His only brow rose up at you as you smirked at him.

You cupped his face with your hands, your thumb brushing over his beard as you looked at him. Passing food to the ladies in the whore house had you shocked when one of them noticed Sandor over your shoulder. They were very outspoken about Sandor. Wondering how big he is and how he would fuck. One girl was about to ask you about him when the other hushed her, telling her you, the princess wouldn't know such a matter when it came to Sandor’s sex life. You quickly walked away when they commented on his face.

You wonder why people thought Sandor was hideous, he really wasn't. The burns were large and took up almost half of his face but he was the most handsome man you have seen. If anyone got the chance to see him smile, they would know it’s one of the most beautiful things in the world. His eyes were a deep and rich brown color, his lips that seemed to only know foul words were pale pink and kissable. You can’t recall the amount of times you nibble on it for the fun of it.

“Is that a yes?” You asked him. Sandor nods softly as he leans down to kiss your cheek. You moved to catch his lips.

Joffrey was walking out of his mother’s room when he heard laughter. He walked to the railing trying to listen where it came from. He was leaning over it when saw Sandor walking with you draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Joffrey frowns as he notices you were barefoot. He could believe that The Hound had cracked a smile and laughed when you slapped him on his behind. Joffrey broke out a sinister smile when he saw Sandor playfully biting your ass making you squeal.

This was something much more than a guard guarding the princess. Joffrey kept staring as he started to form a plan.

Sandor had dropped you at the end of the hall when he noticed your servants were waiting for you by the door of your bed chambers. You fixed your gown and walked towards the room. You asked them to bring the large brass tub you wanted to bathe today and to bring food so you can dine inside your chambers as you released Sandor from his duties. After convincing the eldest servant that you wanted to bathe alone, she bowed to you and left the room. You were in the tub relaxing when a couple of minutes later you heard the door open. You looked ahead to see Sandor walking inside, he’s not wearing his usual gear. Locking the door behind, you sat up straight in the tub moving to the side to make room for him. You grin as he walks towards you.

“Water is still hot. Come inside.” You tell him. Sandor doesn’t need to be told twice. He removes his white tunic shirt, dropping it to the ground. Watching him remove his clothes you bite your bottom lip, you can’t help but stare at his body, his cock as he gets inside the tub. The water overflows over the edge of the tub as he sits down across from you.

“Come here.” He tells you. You move towards him, turning around. His legs are spread, leaving you space to get in between and lean back against his chest. You can feel the coarse thick hair of his body on your back. Your hands trail up his thick thighs under the water.

“The girls were sweet to get these roses and lavender from the garden. They said it will help me ease my mind and body.” You told Sandor as you grabbed a rose petal floating near you and giving it to him over your shoulder.

Sandor takes it between his fingers, giving it an uninterested look. “Hopefully I won’t find one between my arse.”

You break out laughing as you throw another petal at him. “The best smelling arse in the seven kingdoms.”

He chuckles at you before tugging you closer to him making you giggle as he kisses your neck. His wandering hands are touching your hips and waist before settling down on your outer thighs.

A comfortable silence drifted over both of you, enjoying each other's company; this was something he liked. Being close to you, feeling you on him. Your mind wandered off as Sandor leaned forward to grab something from the side. You look down to see what he got. You smiled when you saw what he was holding. The bar of soap looks so minuscule in his hand, he dips it in the water and rubs it against your skin. He lather you up well and you let out a moan when you feel his hand working on a knot on your shoulder.

When he was finished you took the bar out of his hand, you slowly turned around, moving his legs straight so you could straddle him. His hands immediately went to your waist as you placed your hands on his shoulders. Sandor’s stares at you as you were washing him, rubbing the soap on his chest and shoulders. Gathering a rag hanging from the edge of the tub you use it on him. He relaxes as you wash him. He was so relaxed to the point that he had his head tilted back. You dropped the rag in the water and kissed his open neck. He whines as you nip his throat and shoulders. You thought this would be the perfect time to tell him something. Sandor wasn't the only one thinking about the future.

“I want to tell you something. It’s been plaguing my mind since the event with Joffrey and my father.” Sandor brings his head back forward to look at you with a worried expression.

“I know my time will come when my father expects me to marry.” You felt Sandor tense up under you. His face became blank as he looked at you.

“Why don’t we run away?” You ask him, moving his hair out of his face. You don’t know what Sandor is thinking.

“I’ll give you my jewelry to sell at flea bottom. We save enough money to go wherever you wanna go. Braavos?” Words kept spilling out of your mouth as he kept silent.

“Anywhere you want. We can buy land and have a farm. Stranger would be so happy with all the open fields.” You frowned when he didn't say anything.

“No more King’s Landing. No Joffrey, no more guarding, no more rules. No more Gregor.” You mentioned his brother’s name softly.

“You would give up your title? Run away with me?” He asks you quietly. You nodded at him as you got closer to him. Your chest was close to his face as you looked down at him seriously.

“I will.” Sandor shook his head.

“Y/n.” Sandor tried to find the right words to say. He looks around at your room. The gowns are hanging from your closet, the large bed of silk sheets and feather pillows. He can see your jewelry on the vanity.

“If we leave. I can’t give you all of this. The pretty and expensive dress. Jewels and dornish wine.” You look around your room following his gaze.

“You deserve all of it.” His words make you angry. “You know what I deserve?” You ask him.

“I deserve to be happy. You are what makes me happy. Being with you makes me happy and the idea of getting to spend the rest of my life with you brings me so much joy. No more hiding. I want to kiss you when I want. I want to make love to you whenever I want. I want you to fuck me whenever you want. I don’t care about the dresses, the wine and the jewels. Sandor, say yes. Say yes to me.”

He feels like he must have done something to please the gods and now they were rewarding him with you. He can’t believe that you were willing to give all of this up to be with him, a second born son.

“Say something.” You tell him with tears in your eyes. Sandor brings his hands to face, cupping his hands in your face. Droplets of water are running down his arms to your chest.

“We do it but I make you mine. Make you my wife.” You let out a smile.

“What do you say, princess?” He asked you.

“This would be the last time you call me that. Next time it will be Y/n Clegane.” Sandor smiles at you before pulling you in a kiss. He liked the sound of your new name. Leaving the tub when the water became cold, Sandor and you sat by the table eating dinner as he talked about how he could sell the jewelry you offered, a few jewels without people knowing it from you. He would have to go early in the morning and in secret.

You agreed with him. Talks about the future filled the night, both of you were tired from the walk. Slow kisses and gentle touches both of you gave each other. Sandor refused when you were going to have sex with him. He can see it in your face that you were tired. He kissed the top of your head and told you, “We will have all the time in the world to make love when we are free from King's landing.”

It was dawn when Sandor snuck out of your chambers and made his way to his own. He froze outside of his door when he noticed a light coming under the door. He didn't leave any candles on. He pushes the door and walks inside. He frowns at the sight of Joffrey and Ser Meryn Trant sitting around the table in the middle of his room.

“About time.” Joffrey said with a loud sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sandor threw a glare at Meryn Trant who grabbed his sword that was on the table.

“We have been waiting for you all night.” Sandor shuts the door behind him and walks towards his bed.

“Went to the tavern and stayed the night at the whorehouse.” Sandor lied as he sat on his bed. His eyes went to his sword near his bed post.

“Without your armor or sword?” Joffrey asked with a smirk. “Very strange.”

“Everyone knows not to fuck with me. No need to carry all that shit.” Sandor answered him bluntly. Joffrey looks over at Ser Meryn Trant.

“I searched every whorehouse in King’s landing. You weren't there.” The knight answered.

“Where were you, Dog?” Joffrey asked. Sandor frowned at the nickname. It’s been so long that someone called him that. No one dared to disrespect him when he started to guard you. You demanded respect for him and your servants.

“My sister has such a loyal dog, Ser Meryn Trant.” Joffrey told the knight next him when Sandor did not respond.

“You're wasting my time already. We were waiting in your room all night. I know where you were, Dog.” Sandor stared hard at Joffrey.

Joffrey told him how he saw him and you walking away from the stables. A disgraceful sight, Joffrey called it. Sandor felt his heart dropped to his stomach when Joffrey mentioned how he saw him going to your chambers last night.

“What do you want?” Sandor asked, looking down at the ground. Joffrey stood up from his seat and walked towards him.

“Look at me, Dog.” Sandor’s jaw clenched but he obeyed Joffrey.

Joffrey gave him a malicious smile. “It all makes sense now. Why wouldn't she get married.”

“She is in love with the dog. How ridiculous! What a joke this is!" Joffrey cracked a laugh and looked over at Ser Meryn Trant who joined him with his own laughter. Sandor felt his mouth go dry as they laughed at him, laughed at the idea that you love him.

His laughter dies as he looks back at Sandor. “What would the king say when he hears about this? Mother would die from this news. Y/n will be stripped from her title. She will be disowned and severely punished for being with a lowborn.” Sandor felt ill to his stomach.

“Perhaps she threatened you to sleep with her. Or you raped her and she had no other choice.” Sandor stood up at his words. He never in his life had made you do something that you weren't comfortable with and you were the same to him.

“She will be punished.” Joffrey showed no fear when Sandor stood in front of him.

“Like I said. What do you want?” Sandor asked him as Ser Meryn Trant stood up from his seat. Ready to swing his sword incase Sandor harms Joffrey.

“I want her to suffer. I want her dog to go to her room and tell her you don't want her anymore. You will be my new guard. You will tell her that you don't love her and everything between you was all a lie. Tell her that you used her.” Sandor shook his head at him, he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to you. He would runaway with you today and fuck the rest. He will work to provide for you, he will do anything but he wouldn't say he doesn't love you.

“If you don't obey. I will tell my father everything. He will disown her and you will never see her again because you will be punished. You know how? You’ll be executed for raping my sister. I swear on everything, Dog. If you don't agree with this. I’ll have her head chopped off with yours.” Sandor looks away. He blinks the unshed tears away, he refuses to cry in front of Joffrey.

“I’ll give you an hour. Break her heart and report back to me.” Joffrey said he was about to leave when he looked over at Ser Meryn Trant.

“I always wanted a dog. Now I got the largest and the most dangerous of them all.” Joffrey laughed as he walked out of the room with Ser Meryn Trant behind.

Sandor looks at the door, he’s breathing heavily and tears are rolling down his face. He knew it was too good to be true. Sandor let out a growl and flipped the table over and leaned against the wall.

He doesn’t think he has the heart to break things off with you. He was strong to kill and fight but to tell you that he doesn’t love you. He couldn’t but he has too for your sake. He has to do it to keep you safe. You will hate him forever but you will be safe.

Sandor dresses for the day and walks slowly to your chambers. He sees your servants coming out of your room, it meant you were dressed as well and ready for the day.

He knocked on the door and heard your voice saying to come inside. He walks inside and shuts the door behind him. His heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you wrapping something by the vanity.

“Good Morrow, Sandor.” You tell him as you look ahead at the mirror to see him by the door.

He doesn’t say anything. You carefully wrapped the cloth and walked towards him. “I have it. These should be sold off first. I had them for a while so no one will suspect a thing.”

You tell him, holding out the jewelry for him to take. Sandor is still silent as he looks at you. You frowned when Sandor didn’t move. You grabbed his hand trying to open it so you could give him the jewelry. He doesn’t look well and it worries you.

“What’s wrong, my love?” You whispered. Sandor rips his hand from your gasp and walks back to the door.

He had his back turn to you. He couldn’t look at your face. He didn’t want to see how your face looked when he ripped his hand from your gasp. You must have looked so hurt by his action.

“This is wrong.” Sandor said as his shoulders rose up and down with each breath he took.

Before you can respond he cuts you off. “Between me and you is wrong. It must end. It’s over. I won’t be your guard anymore.”

Sandor doesn’t wait for a response. He’s about to open the door when you push him against the door and flip him over with all your might. His back hits the door and refuses to look at your face. He doesn't want to look at you, he knows if he does he’ll break down.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?” You asked him.

“Sandor!” You shouted his name, the jewelry in your hands had fallen to the ground as you slapped his chest trying to catch his attention. He was ignoring you. He told you it was over.

“Tell me what’s wrong. I can help you.” You told him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You cried out as you slapped the chest armor again. He has to do it. He has to break your heart. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, punished, or disowned for loving him.

“It’s over between us.” Sandor said, finally looking down at you. You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” You asked him, Sandor hears your voice crack.

“Sandor..”

He wants to cry but the look on your face. You looked so hurt, eyes tearful, brows knitted together in confusion. He needs to touch you one last time, hold you. He wants to remember how warm and soft you feel under his touch. His fingers are twitching to touch your face.

“What did I do? I’m sor- for whatever I did I’m so sorry.” He wants to yell at you for being so stupid. How is this your fault? How can you believe that you were the one in fault?

“Sandor, I love you. If this is about last night of me deserving all of this, I’ve told you. I told you all I want is you. I deserve to be happy and you are the only reason that makes me happy.”

‘You’re the only reason he’s happy too’, he says to himself. The words that he’s about to say kills him on the inside, it feels like bile coming up his throat.

“I changed my mind. I don’t love you. Not anymore.” You took a step back from Sandor. You place a hand on your stomach as you cry. You shook your head at him.

“I don’t believe you. You love me and I love you.” Sandor felt his tears at bay, he had to leave the room at once. You flinched at his sudden moment when he walked away from the door and towered over you giving you a scowl.

“I don’t love you anymore. Princess.” The tone of his voice drops down in a hiss.

“I never did. I just used you.” Sandor quickly turns to open the door, he does it so hard it almost comes out of the hinges. He hears you crying as he walks out of the room.

Joffrey was in his room when he heard a knock. Ser Meryn Trant opens the door when Joffrey welcomes in whoever it was. Joffrey feels like the first in his life, he won. He won on making you feel unloved just as he felt, he wished he could hear your cries right now. What he would give to see your face at this moment but it didn’t matter because his pet was waiting outside for him.

“Dog. Come in.” Joffrey said with an ominous smile.

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

Taglist: @federalclassroom, @snixx2088

[fernandopiastri28]

don’t be jealous ~ oscarmark

little ficlet for no other reason then that i’m bored

Possessive Mark wants his protege all to himself

wc: 1.1k || cw: feminisation, age gap, power imbalance

Mark shouldn’t care, and if he’s completely honest, it’s really disturbing that he does.

He’s a 47 year old man- he shouldn’t care about a 23 year old in the way Mark does, specifically the one he’s the manager of.

Oscar’s barely a kid, one with a voice that’s only just dropped and who can barely grow facial hair beyond a few stray bits of golden brown hair along his chin.

There’s something very interesting about Oscar, his pure intelligence and raw talent. He’s a smart kid, perfectly competent and easy to take care of. He hardly feels like someone Mark needs to micromanage or guide, rather someone he can work alongside.

That’s what makes it so difficult, because Oscar isn’t that. He is someone that Mark is supposed to look after and help out, not someone who he should be drinking beer after beer to ignore the fact that Oscar’s paying too much attention to Lando Norris.

Lando, unlike Oscar, is quite a pain. Despite being in his 6th year of F1, he’s immature, uncalculated, and a poor presenter of himself.

Mark reckons Oscar was much better suited as teammates with someone like Robert, who had a good head on his shoulders, or even Fred, who was capable and determined.

But Lando? Lando makes Mark’s blood boil. His arrogance, whininess, lack of self awareness- he’s a fucking Sebastian Vettel reincarnate, just without the world championships to justify it.

Mark needs to get Oscar out of there, fucking get him away from the influence of Lando. The two boys already hang out enough as it is in the paddock, occasionally on the weekends.

Mark needs to come up with something that will ensure he gets to have more time with Oscar. Oscar’s is his, he has been ever since he signed that contract back 2020.

Four years ago, Oscar had been a 19 year old with close cropped hair, perfectly crooked teeth, a slightly higher pitched voice, a boyish sense of eternal youth and big dreams and aspirations for the future.

He’d just been a kid back then, boneless and malleable for Mark to shape into the world champion he’d never quite gotten to be.

Yet, in 2024, Oscar was a man. Broad shoulders, thick neck, defined muscles, undeniable talent. He simply oozed silent confidence and sensibility.

Oscar was possibly the most impressive young man that Mark had ever encountered. Yet, Mark knew Oscar could still be better, he still could improve.

Mark narrows his eyes, watching across the large event room, scattered with all different F1 personnel and sponsor teams, yet Oscar stands out like a sore thumb. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck at such a mundane and unrewarding dinner ‘party’ like this.

He also doesn’t deserve the obvious way that Lando preyed on Oscar’s politeness. After Lando cracked what seemed like the thousandth joke that night that Oscar seemed to double over in laughter over, Mark stood up, walking away from his table towards the teammates.

“Oscar,” His voice was soft, endearing. “Lando,” Sharper, bitter. Mark didn’t bother to put on a kind facade for the brit, nor did he look at him.

“Hey Mark,” Oscar turned to look at him, bright eyes and a slurred voice. Oscar’s lips were pink and puffy, shiny from spit and wine.

Tipsy Oscar was a sight for sore eyes, that was for sure. “Enjoying yourselves?” The question clearly directed towards the younger Australian.

He swears he watches Oscar’s cheeks turn pink when Mark stares at his pretty lips. “Yeah,” Oscar’s voice is quiet, girly in a way.

Oscar is a bit like a girl anyways. Beyond the short hair, broad figure and, well, the obvious boy feature of his crotch- he’s got naturally peachy and full lips, long curly lashes, thick muscular thighs, pecs that basically look like breasts.

Mark feels shameful that he notices those things so intensely, and even more ashamed that he’s so into it. “Barely seen you tonight, y’been hiding away?” Oscar asks, his voice breathy.

Mark laughs, and Lando does too, and then it’s not that funny to Mark. He wishes Lando would just leave, go talk to Zac or something. “Lando,” Mark turns to him, no shame in what he’s about to say. “I think Jenson mentioned something to me about wanting to talk to you about something the other day. He’s over there if you’re interested,” He’s vague, pointing across the room to where he’s pretty sure Jenson isn’t.

It’s not a lie, Jenson had mentioned Lando once in a passing comment a few weeks prior. He hopes Jenson will find something to talk to Lando about if the younger brit finds him. “Oh, thanks Mark,” His eyebrows flicker upwards as he stands up, walking straight off without another word.

Mark turns his attention back to Oscar who instead of watching Lando as he walks away, just stares at Mark. “What’s up, kid?”

Oscar gets all bashful, red down to where his shirt collar squeezes around his thick neck, probably even to where the white fabric pulls taut across his chest.

“Drinking,” His voice disappears into his wine glass, forcibly quiet. He’s so shy and blushy being around Mark.

“I know that,” Mark smiles, rather beguiling to be fair. “What else though? You seem a bit.. on edge,” He likes taunting Oscar like this, watching him squirm in his seat.

“ ‘m not on edge,” He looks up, his eyes meeting Mark’s from where they’ve been wandering just about anywhere else. Splodges of heat appear on the boy’s face, like he’s about to break down in a nervous panic.

God, Mark feels so awful. He just wants to make Oscar happy and warm inside, not scared. He takes the seat that Lando had previously been in, intentionally moving it so that one of his knees slots in between Oscar’s legs. “Are you sure, Oscar?” A hand rests on the back of Oscar’s seat and he can feel the heat radiating off Oscar’s neck.

Oscar bites his bottom lip, adorable bunny teeth hooked over glossy, girly lips. “I- I,” He stammers, trying to find his way out of this.

Oscar. Nonchalant Oscar. Future World champion Oscar. Unaffected Oscar. Emotionless Oscar.

Oscar who’s completely whipped for his manager. “Please help me, Mark,” His voice is whiny, like Lando’s always is, but not annoying at all. It’s so cute- desperate.

His voice is like honey, thick and sickeningly sweet. Mark’s been addicted to it for years. Mark looks down at Oscar’s lap where his suit trousers are tented.

Holy shit, Mark’s got himself in such a bad position right now.

ft. what Oscar & Mark are wearing AND literally the trio dynamic :p

[eternalsams]

I gotta a request for you

TW: mentions of being sick (like a cold)

Ya girl is ill and in desperate need of fluff with Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Robert "Bob" Floyd (if your writing him rn), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia like how they would be when your sick

Feel free to ignore this is you want

This is so cute! I have yet to write for Bob, it's on my 2024 plans don't worry. I'm ma just write some headcanons and not full stuffs cause I don't really have the time but I really wanted to do this now (it's getting late where I live)

TW: mentions of throwing up

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

first, he's clueless, he doesn't really know what to do. Is he supposed to cook for you? to help you blowing your nose?

if you get really sick to the point you empty your stomach at everything you eat, he tries to be as supportive as he can. holding your hair if it gets in your face? he can do that. rubbing your back when you feel like dying with your head on the toilet seat? he even kisses the back of your head and whispers sweet things to you

he desperately tries to cook you things you can keep; rice, chicken, whatever you need, he makes just so you feel better (spoiler alert, he's not really a great cook)

he even asks you if he needs to take a day or two off so he can take care of you but you promise him he doesn't need to (he respects your decision, he wouldn't have liked you missing work for him either)

he's a southern boy, he practically never gets sick so he takes that as an advantage to cuddle with you in bed and cover your face with sweet kisses

unfortunately, he does get sick and it's your turn to baby him all week

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

he knows what to do. he's been raised by the one and only Carole Bradshaw so he knows exactly what kind of food you need to get better asap

he surprises you with his cooking skills. he usually rarely cooks because he's not great either in front of a stove. but when you're not feeling good? that man turns into Gordon Ramsay for you

he even kept his mom's recipes from when he was not older than 15 when she used to cook him nice meals when he was sick

he's a cuddler, he doesn't care if he gets sick, he just wanna keep you safe and warm in his arms.

if you're feeling really bad, he even calls in sick with Mav to take care of you until you get better

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

that poor man goes full panic mode, he asks you if you're cold, if you're feeling nauseous, the whole interrogation

then he calls his mom, and you swear you hear him beg his mother for her secret recipes

I'm convinced this man is the definition of golden retriever energy, he just cannot stop running around. one moment he's wrapping you in his favorite star wars blanky, and the next one, he passing the front door, on his way to get some herbal tea

when you're all cosy on your couch, with Luke and Leia Skywalker wrapped around your shoulders, and the hot cup of tea in your hands, Mickey finally allows himself to calm down

even more when you ask him to pick a movie to watch together

Robert "Bob" Floyd

he's actually the one who notices you getting sick. when you start blowing your nose more often or clearing your throat with a grimace on your face

he looks up on the internet for some natural tips to dissipate a cold and it usually works without you noticing anything

but if you get really sick, he's a bit lost. just like Mickey, he'd call his parents for advice and his mom would help him cook you some food you can keep.

he doesn't care if you wake him up in the middle of the night when you flush the toilet or when you stumble on the bathroom floor to empty your stomach, as long as he's by your side through it, he's really doesn't care

maybe hell get sick with all the kisses he steals from you but he just can't get enough of the red flush of your cheeks and especially the tip of your nose

[strawbby-shortcake]

★ COMFORT HEADCANONS (part 1)! ★ [with the fight club characters!]

: ̗̀➛ how they would treat you when you're sick

☁︎ TYLER DURDEN

Tyler would be there for you literally 24/7. You want something to eat? He'll get it for you. Tired? He'll make the bed nice and comfy for you to lay on. He's literally the definition of "acts of service."

He's not a germaphobe. There's no way. He digs into liposuction dumpsters, so a little sickness isn't going to freak him out. He'll be glued by your side and even let you sleep on him.

If you refuse his kisses because you don't want to get him sick, he'll just kiss your cheek or your forehead all the time.

He's the type to hold your hair or rub your back if you start throwing up. He won't look at you, tease you, or make jokes. Even though it's in his nature to be a bit of a jackass, he's super kind in those moments.

While he believes rest is important, he'll make you get out of bed and get some sunshine. It doesn't have to be for long, but you have to at least go outside for fresh air.

He most definitely told the Fight Club members/Space Monkeys to leave him the fuck alone while he was gone taking care of you.

☁︎ JACK (THE NARRATOR)

This poor baby doesn't really know what to do at first since he's never really taken care of someone before. He tries his best though! However, he'll panic if you start coughing a lot because he thinks you're dying.

Once he's got the hang of it, he's a really good caretaker! He'll offer you tissues, blankets, and any other essentials you need. He will also offer to sit with you and put on your favorite show or read to you.

Unlike Tyler, this guy is a bit of a germaphobe, but that's because his immune system is so weak since he doesn't get enough sleep. He won't really kiss you or hug you for long periods of time, but he won't ignore you either. Maybe you'll get a quick forehead or knuckle kiss.

He'll take time off from his job and Fight Club to be at home with you. You're more important to him than anything else.

He will cry if you throw up. And he'll probably gag and throw up too. Just saying.

If you find yourself unable to sleep comfortably, he'll eventually snuggle with you. A week later, you'll be the one taking care of him because he got sick.

☁︎ MARLA SINGER

Marla doesn't realize that you're sick until a few days later. You know her, she's a bit sporadic at times. When she eventually gets home and sees you pale and coughing, her mothering nature kicks in.

She makes sure you're fed, hydrated, and well rested. She won't leave you alone- not even for 10 minutes. If she has to run out to get something though, she makes you promise that you'll stay in bed.

Marla only cares about you getting better, so she ignores everyone else. She'll have like 15 missed calls, but she doesn't mind. They could wait.

Under her care and supervision, you get better within a week! Marla knows how to take care of people, so it's only natural that she knew how to take care of you.

She does ask for a pack of cigarettes as a "thanks." That's all she wants- oh, and Twizzlers.

She tells you to wear your sweater wherever you go so you don't catch a cold again.

☁︎ ROBERT "BOB" PAULSON

He always has cough drops in his pockets, so he'll offer some to you. There's a variety of flavors to choose from. (His personal favorite is vanilla honey.)

Bob is the type of person to carry you to and from bed, place cold/hot washcloths on your forehead, and attend to your every need.

He'll let you cry in his shirt if you feel extremely sick. He might cry too, but that's just Bob being Bob.

He makes the BEST chicken noodle soup, there's no doubt about it. You'll be having a bowl of it at least twice a day.

He might bring you to the support groups while you're sick so that you get to experience the meditation part of it.

Probably spoon feeds you too.

☁︎ ANGEL FACE

He writes you a "get well soon" card and leaves it on your nightstand.

An extreme germaphobe. He won't go anywhere near you.

Okay so maybe he goes to check on you ONCE...or twice...okay maybe he's really worried about you so now he won't stop checking on you.

Holds your hand and pouts because you're not well enough to give him attention.

Gives you strawberry-flavored cough medicine.

Gets "sick" after you recover because he wants to be taken care of.

[drgarrisonandpaul]

The Quincys Around Kids

Again, SUPER open to criticism, discussion, and additions. I love talking to people <3

Quilge: He hates them and he doesn't want to be around them, but he's not aggressive. Just stiff and uncomfortable. Like, maybe they bumble around and show him their toys and he just goes "Ohhhh, wow that's... that's greaaattttt." Honestly, he prefers teens. They can just mutually ignore each other.

Askin: Doesn't hate them, but also doesn't exactly "like" them. They're messy and loud and gross. He'll be a nice wine uncle though, bring them little gifts that their parents disapprove of like fake tattoos and clip-on piercings.

Mask De Masculine: He's the best possible Quincy you could ever leave your kid with. Mask can be gentle but he can just as easily be rough, depending on the kid. Wanna wrestle? Why not. He'll wrestle a three-year-old, but he'll have also have enough restraint to get on their level. Timid kid that just wants to draw? Heck yeah! He'll sit down at your Dora table and draw all day! Though... he might break the matching Dora chairs-

Nanana: Also a pretty chill dude to leave your kid with. He's probably going to sit back and just chill and play video games or board games with them. One of my headcanons is that he's a mathematician at heart because it just sounds awesome paired with his "Morphine Pattern" Grids. He'd be more than happy to help with math homework, whether it be addition, time, or (his favorite) graphing.

Uryu: He's awkward around kids. Like, he likes them, and he has a way with them. However, something about him just DRAWS kids towards him. Kids love this poor man, happy to play and draw and hang out with him, and he just stands there and lets them drag him away like "Uhhhh, okayyyy, where are we goinggg???" and then he's stuck playing barbies for three hours (he loves it)

Giselle: ... ... no.

Gremmy: He's being nice, but also the kids are terrified of him. If he finds a child that ISN'T afraid of him, they'll probably grab a huge box and play rocketship. Gremmy feels like a rocketship-player.

Äs Nödt: Horrendous with children. He's tried being timid, and proceeds to get walked on. He's tried being more intense, and proceeds to scare them. He can't really find a balance in interacting with kids so he simply... doesn't.

Jugram: Please don't leave your child with this man, he will show them around the Silbern and there are things in the Silbern that children should NOT be seeing. Like war things and his collection of knives (he's totally a knife collector)

Ryūken: We see how he is with Uryu. This man cares for almost nothing, he's dull and cold and doesn't really connect emotionally with ANYTHING

Bazz-B: One would think that because of his aggression and punk guy attitude that Bazz isn't good with kids, and they'd be wrong. He's awesome with kids. He'll take them on his motorcycle (he totally has a motorcycle and does donuts in Hueco Mundo), he'll get them some ice cream, and he'll buy them some Pokémon cards. They'll probably play Xbox all day, even if the kid can't figure out the controls

Bambietta: Might scare the kid even if she doesn't mean it, she's pretty intense and explosive, but with a kid that can match her energy? I can see her taking them outside and blowing things up with them, either literally or with little soldier toys, making mouth noises for the explosions

Yhwach: I mean... you COULD leave your child with this man. You shouldn't, but you COULD. Sure, they'd be alive and well and probably happy at the end of the day, since I can definitely see him being calm and level-headed and sweet with a child. But the kid might also have a new little baby Sternritter uniform

Robert Accutrone: He doesn't talk to the kid, since he doesn't know what to really say, however, he does make them pancakes and turn on Bluey or Steven Universe for them. Have a lazy day

[youthereader]

Near Zero part 9.

PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2.9k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.

RATING: E; (no smut in this part), angst, period-typical sexism

A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. I'm back, are you still with me? Thank you for your patience.

masterlist.

The morning after Robert leaves, everything aches. The feeling never leaves, not for days or weeks. You ignore it as best you can, and it’s easy to keep busy. You quickly learn that he was going out of his way to see you, and now that he’s gone he’s away more often, and the work of your team is a constant buzz. You become part of their pool of drinkers, occasionally waking up hungover and forced to pull yourself upright to return to work, head spinning, memories foggy.

One particularly heinous morning, mercifully a Sunday, Kitty Oppenheimer shows up at your front door. You physically recoil when you spy her through the window, nausea amplified as she waits for your response.

You open the door, glancing down to the small plant in her arms. It’s the succulent she threatened to gift you. She beams, coming toward you. 

“Here,” she says, placing it in your hands. You peer down at it, and it glows from within. It’s well taken care for, the poor thing. It has no idea what it’s in for, being yours now.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, and step aside for her. “Come in.” 

Kitty wanders in, inspecting. You’re suddenly embarrassed by the way you live in a way you never have before. It’s all because she’s Robert’s wife. You wait for snark, but she pulls in a breath, pointing at the kitchen table as you approach it together.

“That looks like a good spot for it.”

“Thank you,” you say again, and put it down.

There’s an awkward pause and Kitty gives a soft chuckle. “Would you get me a glass of water, dear? That walk down here was longer than I thought…”

She’s about to tell you she’s pregnant. She’s not showing yet, and you haven’t heard the news from someone else. Pretending you didn’t know will be a struggle, at least on your face. You’ve never been the best actor when it comes to faking surprise. Your intelligence is still hard to conceal, a feigned cluelessness impossible to achieve. 

“Here,” you say, quickly retrieving a glass of water, passing it to Kitty. 

She takes a few steady sips, then sinks into the chair opposite yours at the table. You don’t use this table. The last thing to occupy it was the flowers Robert gave you, weeks ago when you decided to end things. You kept those flowers well after they shriveled and perished. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away until they were crumbling everywhere, absent of any real shape. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, coughing.

“Are you well?”

“No,” Kitty groans. “I don’t suppose you…”

She trails off, reading your face, and she lets out an almighty sigh. 

“Did he tell you? For God’s sake-”

“Tell me what.”

“We’re having another baby,” Kitty mutters. “I suppose it makes sense, telling another woman. It tends to be exciting news for us…”

She sounds bitter and you flush, shaking your head.

“He didn’t tell me. But you seem-”

“Exhausted beyond belief?” 

“Not yourself,” you amend. “Do you need me to send for someone?”

Kitty waves you off, taking another sip of water. “It’s nothing. Or everything. Either way, I’m supposed to feel like this.”

It sounds appalling, and you don’t envy Kitty. At least, not because she’s pregnant. You watch as she finishes her drink and sets it aside. 

“To be honest, he probably hasn’t had time to tell many people, let alone you,” she says. She glances up, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Would that be correct?”

You nod. You itch for a cigarette, but fear that if you move too much you’ll give away something, your pain or your loneliness. At least you haven’t been crying that morning yet, a rarity. You look at the succulent, at its smooth leaves layered on top of one another. 

“Is it close?” she asks, and you frown a little. 

“I don’t think it will feel that way until it’s over,” you reply. “Not with Heisenberg out there, or the Soviets breathing down our necks.”

You’re being glib, repeating whatever you hear the men say. You work and go home, and that is your life. Without Robert, things are significantly simpler, and sadder.

“He’s not…”

Kitty trails off, and you lock eyes with her, your stomach giving a lurch. Kitty’s face changes, her anxiety slipping away a beat later, and you wonder what she meant to say. 

“Someone he knew died.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, automatic. 

This all feels incredibly bizarre. Kitty is always so put together, and even when she’s seemed to open up to you, it’s purposeful. She gathers herself, drawing in a breath. She stands up before you’re ready and you nearly startle. 

“I should get back-”

“Yes,” you say, trailing behind her. 

She pulls you into a hug. 

“I never said congratulations,” you say, when she’s part way out the door. “I’m so sorry. I was up late, I’m-”

“Sounds painfully familiar,” Kitty cuts in. She gives a more genuine smile. “We’ll have you over for dinner sometime soon. So you can have a decent meal for once.”

You laugh, relieved a little, and yet you know there’s no way you’d survive being with the Oppenheimers again. You can’t imagine being in the same room as Robert with him paying any attention to you. You’ve avoided him quite easily, and he’s done the same with you.

-

You see him. You see him in the middle of the night, standing in the street like the phantom you’ve seen before. Hat on, smoke rising. He walks down your street and stops in the middle of it, as if in a stupor. 

You only noticed him because you can’t sleep either. You watch the street most nights, and this is the first time that the thought of him has manifested him. You let out a shaky breath, waiting for him to move again. You count nearly a full minute before he puts his cigarette to his lips, before realizing it's extinguished. He replaces it, lighting up. More smoke, and tears well in your eyes. The unfairness of it hits you. He’s going wherever he pleases, but you cannot. You can’t march into his house and demand he take you back. But he’s in your street, for whatever reason, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You sniffle, the urge to race into the street rising. You count to ten, turning your back on the view of the street. You light your own cigarette, tossing aside the burnt match. You have to be better at this, just a bit longer. You have to hold on.

You consider throwing the succulent against the wall, but you’re actually fond of it. The thought of losing it is so pathetic that you huff a wet laugh, going back to smoking. You think of Robert out there, walking in the dark. You remember what Kitty mentioned - his friend died. Who did she mean? Did it have anything to do with him being spied on?

Your resolve weakens and you slam your eyes shut, exhaling smoke through your nostrils as you hug your arms. You blink back the blue glow of the moon through the window, glancing towards the street again. He’s not there, and you’re glad, and then you miss him again. 

You remind yourself that this was your decision, too, despite Robert being the one to bring you flowers to lay upon the grave of your affair. You didn’t want to share him with a pregnant Kitty. A part of you felt like you made the decision for him - if you couldn’t have all of him, he couldn’t have all of you.

-

Laurence was an unexpected addition to your life, a friendship gained through drinking and being generally more sociable. He always had a spot for you to sit, offered lighters, told stories and shared ideas that weren’t censored at all. He trusted that you understood everything he spoke of, he never underestimated your intelligence. It made sense then that he tried to set you up with an acquaintance. 

“He is the luckiest man in the world,” he joked, referring to the chemist named John Ainsworth. “A bachelor in this day and age.”

“And I’m a single, childless woman,” you counter, flicking ash into the tray between you on your desk. “Society doesn’t know what to do with me.”

You both lean against the wood as the other men drink and laugh, a record player in the background. It’s a typical night after working long hours bent over papers.

“I didn’t say that,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. He pushes his glasses up. 

“Implied.”

He shakes his head. “Can I tell him you’re interested? Once I run this idea past the Boss?”

He means his wife, and you smirk. “Yes, of course.”

“Good.”

He gives your knee a single pat and pushes off the desk, leaving you alone. You smoke in silence, contemplating another drink, thinking of Robert. He hasn’t been around for several days, and hasn’t shown up at night. You’ll always worry, but he no longer lets you close enough to console him. He is yet to speak to you at all. There’s no bitterness there, just that ache, that longing that will never truly go away. You carry it like a stone in your skirt pocket, your thumb rubbing it every so often when you remember it’s there. 

The chemist is sweet, in the sense that he treats you like a very precious thing for a few weeks. Whatever it could have been between you never builds quite far enough, and you’re fine with it. Your acceptance of his rejection baffles him. On paper, he’s an ideal husband. He is intelligent, respectful, employed. He’s not excessive in drinking, or any kind of debauchery that a girl’s parents would fear. He doesn’t push you into sleeping with him, in fact, you pursue him but get no further than some kisses you share, which are adequate. The safeness of it irks you a little, makes you bold enough to ask him outright:

“Why don’t you want to go to bed with me?”

John pulls away from you a little, as you’re sitting close together on a bench. He likes to walk with you in public, likes to stop and chat to people he knows. People look at you with him and smile, happy to see you are trying. He has the square jaw of a football player, and every time you notice how classically handsome he is, you think of Robert’s suggestion that you date a football player. Never in high school did a single popular boy on the football team pay any attention to you. 

He frowns, somewhat alarmed by your directness. You haven’t let on your true nature just yet, and this slip up seems enough to give you away. 

“I’m not sure how serious you are about this.”

You’re entirely too casual and he knows it. There’s being reserved, and then there’s you - aloof. Frigid, even, at least emotionally so. You let out a short laugh, and he stares at you.

“That’s fair.”

“Well, are you? I don’t want a girl who doesn’t see the seriousness in such a thing.”

You barely break eye contact as you take out a cigarette, which you light yourself. You smoke more and more these days. It’s one after another, especially when you’re alone. With John, you tend to have the odd one, it’s not constant like it is when you’re working, or like when you were with Robert. You get a flash of a memory - Robert using the end of his cigarette to light yours when you were in between making love in your hotel room - and then you snap your lighter shut. 

You take a long time to answer him, smoking as you see him trying to read you. 

“You’re quite adamant about this.”

“It’s important to me,” he retorts, offended. 

You study him some more and he scoffs.

“Does it not matter to you?”

You don’t miss this - being with a man whose ideas about sex aren’t modern like Robert’s. Your value changes depending on something that doesn’t affect the value of a man. The hypocrisy was staggering, though admittedly having no guilt when it came to sleeping with Robert, a married man, was unusual. 

“It does,” you lie. You amend this with a shake of your head. “It doesn’t. I think that’s ludicrous.”

He leans in, dropping his voice. “I’m not expecting you to remain a virgin until marriage.”

You almost laugh at this. “Good.”

“But I need more time, and more… indication that you give a damn about me. Or am I just someone to spend time with? Don’t you have other friends?”

That last part was unnecessary. You rise from your seat abruptly. 

“I suppose I don’t, John.” 

  You turn back, cherishing the confusion that turns to embarrassment on his face. Anyone nearby would be able to see your rebuffing of him. 

“Where are you going?”

You ignore him, walking on. 

-

The Oppenheimers welcome a baby girl. You meet her one afternoon with some of Kitty’s other friends. She has Robert’s eyes, like her brother. Little Peter hangs in the doorway to the den, fingers in his mouth. He’s afraid of the baby, like you are. You’re handed it nonetheless and don’t know what to do with her - except stare and marvel at her size. She’s so small, and yet she carries multitudes. Her fingers wrap around your thumb and you smell milk on her breath. 

“She’s adorable,” you manage to say, and then quickly pass her on. 

You do like children. You know this about yourself - you always have. You just don’t want any of your own, no matter what these women around you say. They coo and imply it’s your turn soon. Never mind that you and Ainsworth have barely been seen together in months. You did sleep together, but it was perfunctory, and ultimately quite a lonely experience for you.

It’s easier to be swept up in the work, in the equations and debating and workplace dynamics. 

“You’re such a man,” Kitty teases you, and you blush. “I think you’ll have to be trapped into having a baby.”

“Interesting idea,” you retort, and the ladies giggle with mischief.

Your reputation as a spinster changed over the last year. Now you’re known for being loose and distant, like a femme fatale in a noir film. The concept couldn’t be further from the truth, but you don’t acknowledge anything you overhear whispered behind your back. Supplying the gossipers with any sort of retort serves no purpose. You are still perpetually on the outside, even with Kitty Oppenheimer as a friend, even with the scientists as drinking buddies. You are between worlds. 

You leave with the others, missing Robert by hours. He is out of town again, and you have no fear of a confrontation. You are strangers passing one another in the street, not that you’ve seen him out lately.

-

Christmas Day comes and you rise from your bed slightly hungover, sleeping late. For you, that’s after 9 o’clock. You dress, triple layers, cigarette dangling, and wander into the street. 

Everyone is cheerful, and it’s easier to imitate today of all days. Neighbors wave to one another and you weave past children playing. You’ve run out of milk, otherwise you would have stayed inside until later. Christmas celebrations were happening tonight, and you had books you’d rather be reading. 

You shiver, contemplating who will be attending tonight, but you need not have bothered - you arrive at the general store to find Robert and Groves conversing, Robert’s hands on his hips. They stop talking as you approach, which gives away the nature of their conversation. Top Secret, something you’re no longer privy to since you stopped seeing Robert. Not that he blabbed excessively about classified information; he gave the broad strokes often enough to not name names or strategies.

“Good morning,” you say. It’s the most you’ve spoken towards Robert in months. 

You could have pretended to have forgotten something at home and raced back, avoiding this altogether, but the festive season makes you braver. 

“Is it?” Groves grunts, regarding you. 

In the handful of times you’ve spoken to him, Groves gave you his opinion on women in science - they shouldn’t be involved whatsoever. He often questioned the relevancy of female secretaries, the wives of scientists, being employed at Los Alamos. He was civil, to some degree.

You hear Robert give a breath of a laugh. He says your name, your eyes meeting his fully for the first time. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“You, too, Oppie,” you murmur. You nod at Groves. “Sir.”

“Hopefully it’s our last here,” he says, and you nod again. 

Another year here, costing the government arms and legs and whatever else. All those resources pooled, the massive gamble this entire project is. You watch Robert, but can’t read his face. He’s far away from here. The pause between the three of you is awkward.

“Will either of you be attending tonight’s festivities?” you ask, to break the silence. 

You sense they’re waiting for you to leave to get back to their conversation. The men answer at the same time:

“Yes, briefly.”

Your eyebrows hike and you smirk at Groves, whose grumpy stare is never truly intimidating to you. You turn your heel and keep walking, hearing Groves describe you as “pleasant enough” which for him is high praise.

You feel Robert’s eyes on you, burning the back of your skull as you walk away. Tonight, if he’s there, you know you’ll finally be together again.

Alone. 

taglist: @indulgence-be-thy-name, @forgottenpeakywriter, @amiets2 @dilfsffx (hmu if you'd like to be added)

[jillgirlfriends]

jill roberts like girlfriend

pairing: jill roberts x fem!reader

warnin: toxic relationships are mentioned, dark themes and mentions of murder are possible

it's just my mini headcanons

and her hair is very soft and pleasant to the touch, and jill does not admit it but she likes it when her head is stroked as if she is being rewarded

you really love to take her face in your hands and kiss her whole face and pay attention to her lips. they are literally like honey.

she's so nice to hug! she's so small and fragile that you can just pick her up and hug her. jill will be embarrassed and make a cute disgruntled face.

she can share her clothes with you, she has a lot of beautiful plaid shirts that she loves

she is number 1 in gossip and naturally she loves to spread rumors around the school.. especially about jenny randall. you both always laugh in the evenings at jill's house remembering all the rumors that you both together sent around the school

after breaking up with trevor, jill also started spreading rumors about him. she wanted his life to be a living hell, and she eventually achieved that. no one trusted him, and he ran after her like a puppy.

you both like to watch horror movies at her house, or have sleepovers at her house

almost everyone thinks that you are both just best friends with a very good relationship, many do not know that you are both dating and jill is your girlfriend

she is a good cook, jill can cook something for both of you occasionally.

jill can smoke occasionally, she smoked often during her relationship with trevor. but after their relationship ended, she quit smoking only because of you

get ready for the fact that she will keep her true emotions and feelings to herself for a long time, she is already used to pretending to be someone she is not and constantly wears the mask of an "innocent girl who will always help", but she also really needs help and someone who will understand her.

i think her relationship with trevor was very toxic, trevor neglected jill and he actually had many girls.. but she only knows about jenny. namely, after him poor girl changed a lot and became more cold and wanting attention. i also think jill actually loved him.. but he didn't pay attention to her and mostly because of this she wants attention from others. before she was much more gentle and kinder

if someone offends you, don't worry.. this girl will easily ruin this person's life. she will spread various rumors about this person, and then she or charlie will kill him

she can tease you if you get scared during a horror movie and hold you close to her so you don't get scared

sometimes she can get really annoyed with kirby and her smugness and her whole cocky personality. but jill still continues to talk to her but while kirby isn't looking, jill will sigh in annoyance and roll her eyes while the blonde is talking

she also sometimes feels jealous of olivia and thinks that she is much more beautiful and better than her.

jill is very glad that she doesn't have brothers and sisters, she wouldn't want them to be paid more attention to than her

she is VERY jealous but she is also patient. if she is jealous she will easily kill and get rid of this person. never make jill jealous, she may be very offended by you and her trust in you will fall. she may also ignore you.

she is a very good listener, she can listen to your chatter and say nothing and occasionally laugh at your jokes

get ready for the fact that she is a real lazy person, it is quite difficult to lure her out of the house. therefore, you often spend time at her house. she rarely goes out, and she often refuses to hang out with friends

it was very difficult to initially approach her and start a relationship, especially after her breakup with trevor. it took you a long time, but after that jill realized that you would suit her and you are a comfortable person for her

jill is a very complex person, but the relationship with her is very pleasant and be prepared for the fact that most of the time she will be silent and it will be difficult for her to get used to you and open up.

[alishaaxo]

it is NOT misogyny to say that rhaenyra willingly birthing jace, knowing he was from harwin, was a bad thing 😭

like no!! im just saying she should’ve been a little cautious and her actions DID damn her son!

i get that rhaenyra+laenor did plan to do their duty… and i understand that this fell apart as laenor was too traumatised from joffrey’s death plus being queer was already making it hard for him

but like just KNOWING that her son would have features not matching, her, her husband, her grandparents, or her husbands grandparents, and instead the suspiciously close sworn-shield…..

i can even be lenient for jace, since she had no clue that targaryen blood wouldn’t hold thru since there had been barely any targaryen-andal/firstmen marriages exc one that resulted in her mother who had targaryen features! but with luke… theres was almost no chance and JOFFREY was just blatant disrespect like imo alicent was right in saying that one is a mistake but any more is just ignorant and plain idiocy

like it weakens rhaenyras claim because men are gonna hate how shes an adulterer (even tho its valid because her husband is gay) and they’l hate how she made bastards which are sins in the seven and have no place in gaining inheritance

it makes jace also look like such a fool. like imagine poor baby jace wondering why the courtiers all sneer at him and why people don’t respect him… all because his mother was too hasty in her love for harwin!!

and ik ppl say “but oh, the boys are inheriting through rhaenyra’s claim so its fine!” but like robert baratheon had kids older than joffrey and didn’t saying they should be his heir because they’re his firstborn?? and for all cersei’s faults, at least her kids had the features of their mother, which was something rhaenyra should’ve considered to try to get, like idk contact mysaria for some lysene whore or take a trip to dragonstone and pretend to be a dragonseed and sleep with another dragonseed or smth idk!!

[aphroditelovesu]

RhaegarWins! Au: Rhaegar killed Robert in the trident, Robert's Rebellion fails; Aerys dies, Rhaegar becomes king and in the end of the war he gets his third head of the dragon. Lyanna gives birth to a daughter not a son (the reader)Visenya.

But not all its sunshine and rainbows for Rhaegar Targaryen, this is an you won but at what cost scenario. First of Lyanna still dies in this scenario and since she's dead and can't tell if she went willing or not people always speculate whether she was abducted or she went willing. The faith has a long standing tradition of opposing polygamy so Rhaegar marriage to Lyanna is not recognized as legitimate, baby Visenya is a bastard, and the northerns and the stormlanders are pissed with the outcome of the rebellion. (Especially the stormlanders).

Rhaegar inherits a broken kingdom and so he goes problem solving. First he is lenient on the rebels. He takes hostages, he takes a little land from the minor Lords but let most of them keep their castles. The starks, Tully and arryns keep all of their titles and since he is walking on thin ice, and doesn't want a conflict with the faith right now,He recognizes that his marriage to Lyanna is illegitimate (the northerns are even more pissed by this), but he has Visenya legitimized and tries to appease the starks he is more lenient to them and Ned gets a royal ward, Princess Visenya.

So house Targaryen it's at its weakest point in history. worst than the dance of dragon's. But Rhaegar being Rhaegar raises Aegon to belive that he is the prince that was promised and tells him that he and his sisters are the conquerors come again and that one day he is going to marry both of them. Now neither Aegon or Rhaenys belive in their father's bullshit because Elia its a big influence in their lives. But one day Rhaegar decides that it's time to Visenya to come home and they both start developing yandare tendencies for her 😈 they may not belive in their father's prophecies but they would definitely use them to trap poor Visenya. Now I ask you what kind of yandare would Rhaenys and Aegon be? What are their differences? What are their similarities? What are your thoughts on this concept?

tw: Targaryen incest (very usual)

I didn't expect to receive this until I read it and I say I need more!! An au where Rhaegar would win Robert's Rebellion was not something I needed until you sent me this!!

Considering that all of history had changed, relations would be strained and resentment would run high, particularly between the remaining Targaryens and the Starks. I like to think that Viserys and Daenerys grew up in King's Landing with their brother, but their bastard daughter, Visenya/Y/n, went to live with the Starks. In that case, I imagine everyone would know that she is not Ned's daughter but Rhaegar's daughter, it would be fun to imagine her dynamic with the Starks.

Ned grew to love his niece, even though she represents everything that happened to his beloved sister, he still loves his niece. He resents Rhaegar, but he doesn't hate Visenya. She is just a child, i'ts not her fault her father's mistakes. I can't help but think how cool and inconvenient it would be if the entire Stark family became yandere for her. Catelyn came to love the girl as her daughter, because she was not ''Ned's bastard'', as Jon would be, she was the most present mother figure in Visenya's life and she would become delusional to the point of imagining she was really her daughter.

When Rhaegar ordered Visenya/Y/n to return home, the hell would break. The Starks don't want her to go, they don't trust the Targaryens to look after her like they do and she has grown used to the North. But they couldn't ignore Rhaegar's orders, they weren't ready for another war, the last one cost them too much, so Visenya reluctantly returned to King's Landing, meeting with her father, uncle and aunt and siblings.

Relationships would be fun to describe, I think. Rhaegar is definitely very attached to Visenya, due to the fact that she is Lyanna's daughter and he regrets not having seen her grow up, although he knew it was the best thing to do at the time. Elia had reservations about Rhaegar's bastard daughter, it wasn't resentment or hatred, but… Curiosity and she soon finds herself liking her stepdaughter.

Viserys doesn't think much of his niece, he doesn't care, at least at first. She was just Lyanna and Rhaegar's bastard child, why should he care? But Viserys finds himself interested in the way everyone else acts around Visenya and ends up finding himself closer to his niece. Obsessed, maybe.

I would imagine that Visenya and Daenerys would have been born around the same time, so the two would be the same or close in age at the very least. They would definitely be close and Dany finds herself very attached to her niece. Although they didn't grow up together, the two eventually became best friends.

Now about Aegon and Rhaenys… Definitely the trio would be the differentiated version of Aegon I, Rhaenys and Visenya. They might not believe in the prophecy, but they couldn't deny that as soon as they met their sister, things changed. Before her, Aegon and Rhaenys clung to each other, along with their mother, but it felt like something was missing. A hole in the inseparable duo and when they met... It was you who was missing.

Aegon is, in my opinion, the obsessive and slightly overprotective yandere type. He felt an instant connection with Visenya and could not deny her desires for her and as is tradition, he would take her and Rhaenys as his wives. Just like Aegon I did. It didn't matter if polygamy wasn't allowed, he would do it and he would have Rhaegar's support and maybe even Elia's. Aegon is very paranoid about his sister and will not let her leave him and Rhaenys. They were already created apart, he won't allow that again.

Rhaenys would be calmer and gentler than her brother, but she's a clingy, possessive yandere, I think. She would be particularly possessive of her sister and brother, wanting them both with her at all times. Rhaenys would definitely send jealous, murderous glares at people she deems a threat to her and her siblings. Rhaenys would grow sharp and strong.

Who knows the prophecy will not be fulfilled? With this trio. Perhaps dragons come back to life through Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys. Perhaps the prince who was promised is not only a prince, but... A prince, a princess and a bastard? All Targaryens, different but so... close.

The world of Ice and Fire would be quite different from what we know, but interesting, don't you think?

~ Lady L

[im-out-of-it]

part six of season 2, episode 4 POOR IZZY “day of wrath”

127. I love the moments of Alec just making sure Izzy is okay and then picking her up and leaving 🥹

128. Jace: should I ignore my family (when it’s convenient) for her or choose the girl I would burn down the world for (and of course he was not going to choose Alec and Izzy first)

making Izzy his last resort. WHY DO THEY NOT CUT HIM OFF AND GO OFF ON HIM!!!!!! ALEC JUST RISKED HIS LIFE FOR JACE AND HE CANT EVEN CHOOSE IZZY FIRST BLOODY FUCKING HELL

129. but are we really surprised that he would choose clary over Izzy? no at least I’m not

130. clary: but what about me?

131. am I sad for her that her mom is dead? maybe for a little bit but it doesn’t excuse all the horrible things Jocelyn and clary have done. killing Jocelyn was one of the best decisions the show could have possibly made. I just hate what this does to Alec

132. because let’s be real - if Jocelyn was alive and in idris, would clary go and visit her? would she live with her? no, she would forget Jocelyn

133. and I’m not sorry Jocelyn is dead. Clary has done all kinds of shit since coming here and Jocelyn had no care in the world if it meant Alec had to almost die to protect clary. Jace would do anything to protect clary even if it meant murdering millions. Aline even asks how many lives clary is worth and jace says everything so he would happily burn the world down for her. Jace was literally going to choose to see clary first instead of Isabelle. this so called family jace goes on and on about doesn’t mean shit to him. he changed his mind more than fucking Mother Nature. and yes it disgusts me how he treats Alec and Izzy when they have been nothing but kind to him and always go out of their way to help and protect him

134. Jace does not care about Alec about Izzy about anyone who isn’t clary. that’s not romantic, it’s fucking toxic. this is a pure fucking toxic affair that is not romantic, it’s not cute, it’s not anything a young woman, child, any boy, of any gender or literally any being should choose for themselves. this isn’t passion. look at Alec and Magnus- that’s passion. that’s healthy, it’s romantic. show Malec never book Malec. Jace and clary are both toxic people but together, they’re more of an insufferable disease. and it’s sad that this is for young girls audience because this is fucking toxic at its finest

135. let’s talk about all Alec has endured:

he’s almost died three times now, twice for jace

he almost lost Izzy because of jace and clary’s actions of taking the cup (and Alec is responsible for the whole meliorn thing but at least he tried to make amends)

Alec almost gets married while trying to deal with coming out to a homophobic clave

Alec constantly gets betrayed and lied to from jace

he never gets to process his feelings because you know jace and clary will make it about them and create problems for Alec

it does get better for Alec but from season one to early season two it’s fucking hell for Alec!!!!!!!!!

Alec never feels good enough and Maryse practically shuns him (also love when Alec stands up for himself)

and Robert and Maryse have been making Alec feel like shit forever

he’s had to deal with his upcoming problems with Magnus

all the shit clary has made him go through and now he kills her mother that was no fault of his own

THIS MAN GOES THROUGH TOO MUCH AND HE DESPERATELY NEEDS A BREAK

and the way jace treats Alec doesn’t get spoken up enough. Jace will never choose Alec but Alec has almost died so many times protecting him

Alec needed to properly go off

also not sure if I posted this but love young Izzy protecting and loving her brother

LEAVE MY MAN ALEC AND MAGNUS ALONE SO THEY CAN BE HAPPY and I’m so not prepared for Alec’s grief

and I lied, this wasn’t short but I want to showcase and talk about how much Alec actually goes through. this man hardly gets a break. I’m just happy in the end that he is and Magnus are happy together. Alec and Magnus deserve all the happiness

but 135 was the number and thank you for joining why does Alec keep getting put through the ringer and Jocelyn is finally gone discussion post and bitchfest and I will see y’all soon for episode 5 ✨ thanks y’all for joining me ⚔️🫶🏼🏹

[countrymusiclover]

20 - Back to being a Prisoner

Part 21

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

Jaime’s pov - Kings Landing 

Walking into one of the rooms of the Red Keep I saw my sister and someone painting a map on the floor who she sent a look at and they scampered off leaving just the two of us in the room alone.  “What is this?” I questioned eyeing the painted map. 

“It’s what we’ve been waiting for our whole lives.  It’s what father trained us for whether he knew it or not.” She explained wearing an all black and scaly dress with her hair cut like a boy's since the last time I’d seen her. 

“He knew it.  He made me memorize every damn city, town, lake, forest and mountain.” 

She said proudly turning around to face me standing in the opposite corner of the room. “It’s ours, now we just have to take it.  You’ve been quiet since you’ve been home.  Are you angry with me?” 

“No, not angry.” 

She pressed on. “Are you afraid of me?” 

“I’m afraid of what you could do to my family.” 

My sister corrected me. “I’m your family.” 

“You’re my family, yes.  But not my wife and children.  Now you’re just my sister.” 

Cersei glared at me snorting out a laugh. “You poor fool.  You aren’t as smart as you think you are.  She doesn’t care for you.  She simply needed you to escape Robert, then me and now she’ll likely fall back in her twisted ways now that she has her little sister back.” 

“Daenerys captured her on the battlefield, I've been told.   I am going to get my wife and children back from her.” 

“Do you want to know what information I’ve heard about this Mother of Dragons hmm.” My sister clasped her hands together.  “Daenerys Targaryen has named Tyrion to be her Hand.  He stands beside our enemies and gives them counsel.  He's out there somewhere at the head of an armada.  Where will they land?”  

“Dragonstone.” I glanced at the map underneath my boots seeing a familiar dragon household. Vaella was undoubtedly taken there . “They have deep-water ports for the ships. Stannis left the castle unoccupied, and that's where she was born.”

She walked around tapping the different areas with the tip of her shoes. “Enemies to the east. Enemies to the south...Ellaria Sand and her brood of bitches. Enemies to the west...Olenna, the old cunt. Another traitor. Enemies to the north. Ned Stark's bastard has been named King in the North and that murdering whore Sansa stands beside him. Enemies everywhere. We're surrounded by traitors. You're in command of the Lannister army now. How do we proceed?” 

“Winter is here. We can't win a war if we can't feed our men and our horses. The Tyrells have the grain, the Tyrells have the livestock.  But I refuse to help you wipe out Vaella’s last bit of Targaryen family she has left.” I shake my head knowing she wouldn’t stop until all the enemies were wiped out completely. 

My twin ignored my last sentence. “Will the Tyrell bannermen stand alongside a Dothraki horde and Unsullied slave soldiers?”

“If they think Daenerys will win. No one wants to fight on the losing side. Right now, we look like the losing side.” I scoffed in her direction. “And did you not hear what I said?  I won’t help you with starting a war.” 

“I'm the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Rolling my eyes I just wanted this conversation to be over. “Three kingdoms, at best. I'm not sure you understand how much danger you’re in.” 

“How much danger we’re in.  You can’t possibly think that the Dragon princess whore actually cares about the Knight who killed her father.” She picks up a glass of wine, changing the subject once more. “I understand we're in a war for survival.  I understand whoever loses dies.  I understand whoever wins could launch a dynasty that lasts a thousand years and it should be us.” 

Raising my voice towards her I didn’t care how hurt she was by my next choice of words. “Don’t ever call her a whore ever again or I’ll be your worst nightmare sister!” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” She smiled back at me. “You’ll come back to me soon enough and realize that I have been right about her the day you left for Casterly Rock.” 

“You’re wrong, Cersei.  She is everything I never knew I wanted until the day we met.  She is the rightful Queen of the Seven kingdoms in my mind.  I do care for you, but I’d rather face dragon fire to get back to her then I ever would you.” Placing my hand on the handle of my sword I spared her one glance stomping out of the room and not going back to her.  Vaella, Luciya and Rhaegar were the only ones beside Tyrion I cared about keeping safe from that point on. 

Vaella’s pov - Dragonstone 

Two guards tossed my body into a cell slamming the door without uttering a word to me.  My hair was thrown all about and my red gown stained with black dragon ashes from the battlefield.  Pushing myself up on my knees I bolted to the tiny window seeing the sea waters on the other side of it.  They had chained Amethyst down in the dragon pits and my babies were placed in a separate cell away from me.  “Uhh! This can't be happening right now.  I have to get out of here.  Draycrays - urgh draycrays!” I pushed my body harshly against the door but it didn't budge and no one could hear me down here.  Sliding down the door and onto the floor my chest began lightning making it hard to breathe and a nightmare flashed before my eyes only this time he wasn't here to rescue me. 

“Father! We need to talk this instant.” Bursting through the council chamber doors I came into contact with the small council meaning they were having their daily meeting. 

My father rose from his chair shouting at all of them. “Leave me with my daughter now!” Everyone in the room scurried out leaving it to be just the two of us alone. 

“I know you've been rapping mother.  I've seen the bruising she hides when I visit her in her chambers.” 

My father glared at me. “It is not rape, you foolish girl.  I am her husband and she must provide me heirs.  Heirs that won't betray me and attempt to take my throne like your brother Rhaegar likely intends to do.” 

“He’s never betrayed you.  He is your son and mother is your wife.  I would have assumed you cared for her to be happy in some way rather than keeping her a prisoner in her own house.” Rhaegar wasn’t interested in ever sitting on that throne of swords, seeing what was happening to our father because of it. 

He scowled at me shouting to the guards standing watch outside. “Guards! Take my daughter back to her chambers and make sure she stays there.” Two guards grabbed me by the arm dragging me through the hallways until we reached my room, then they tossed me inside like dirt and bolted the door from the outside. 

It had been quite some hours of me being imprisoned here.  I had paced back and forth too many times to count and I would have kept going if a loud clash of thunder and lightning didn't appear outside my window. “Ahh!” I screamed like the age of five dropping down onto the floor in a fetal position with my knees hugging to my chest in fear.  I always hated when it stormed when I was younger, unfortunately my mother wasn't there to comfort me then. 

“Vaella!” Lifting my head up from my knees the chamber door opened and quickly shut behind Jaime’s white cloak.  He noticed my state on the floor yanking the cloak from his shoulders and draped it over my body helping me sit upright. “When I heard one of the other Kingsguard say you were locked up I didn’t believe them at first.” 

“I snapped at my father about what he’s been doing to my mother and so he - gah!” I screamed burying my face into the golden armor of his chest when another loud sound from the stone boomed through the castle. 

Jaime raised his right hand running his fingers through my hair. “Oh Vae..” 

“You’re going to laugh at me aren’t you.  The Dragon Princess is afraid of thunderstorms.  How pathetic must this seem?” 

He moved his right hand down tilting my chin up so I’d look him in the eye while he kept his left hand gently on my lower back. “I’m not laughing at you, Vaella. We’re all afraid of something.” 

“What are you afraid of exactly?” I asked him, sniffing through some tears. 

“Rats.” 

I accidentally snorted out a laugh. “Rats - oh my I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.” 

“You’re lucky I care for you, princess.” He kissed the crown of my head. “I’ll protect you from the storms.” 

Running my fingers through his long blonde hair I smiled laying my head back against his chest feeling safe in his embrace. “And I’ll protect you from the rats.” 

The chamber door had apparently opened while I was curled up in the corner having a panic attack of that memory.  So consumed by it that I didn't dare move from my current position. “Vaella. Vaella!” Someone shouted my name but I still had my eyes closed tightly until whoever it was touched my shoulder causing me to wrap my hands tightly around their throat seeing that was the best I could do having no weapons. 

“Tyrion - what are you doing here?” 

He choked for breath. “I - came to - see you.” 

“Why to say your goodbyes?” I removed my hands and he gasped for breath now that I wasn’t holding him in a chokehold. 

He blinked his eyes at me, sending me a weak look. “Gods no.  Why would you say something like that?” 

“Because you've yet to say why you're here so I can only assume she'll want to do one thing..” I trailed off placing my hands in my lap, meeting his green eyed gaze. “She’s going to kill me isn't she?” 

My friend shakes his head no in response. “You're going to have a trial in an attempt to spare your life and your children's.” Parting my mouth opened I didn't know what to say next to him. 

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

My favourite part is the fandom never being equally disturbed/hating Robert who at the rip old age of 35 had a whole ass CHILD with a 15 years old (meaning that Barra’s mother was 13 or 14 when Robert raped her) and never even bother giving ANY help to that poor girl.

They just hate the Targaryens. Robert is one of the worst people in the ASoIaF world, but they completely ignore this.

[horizon-verizon]

Daenerys is the Prince that was Promised. When she visits the House of the Undying, she is told she is the child of three, which relates to the three heads of the Dragon. And the child of three/three heads of the Dragon means she is the Prince that was Promised, the Stallion who Mounts the World, Azor Ahai. They are all myths retelling the same story, just in a different cultural lens.

People forget that Martin’s subversion of the Chosen One trope is based on 90s fantasy...which was overwhelmingly male characters and candidates, perhaps the most significant at the time being Rand al’Thor of the late Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. No one would expect, at the time, that the Prince that was Promised would be a princess. Most would have argued, as a significant portion of the fandom does till this day, that it is Jon, the standard male hero character. Jon being the Prince that was Promise would be a trope in of itself. Since we have gone beyond 90s fantasies, there have been more female chosen ones (Daenerys paved the way), but she still resides in that 90’s concept of a female Chosen One. (Also ignoring the obvious Jesus parallels such as her walk through the desert, her being born of fire, Bonfier Hasty worshiping the Maiden because of his love for Rhaella, etc).

I note as much ("They are all myths retelling the same story, just in a different cultural lens.") HERE. branwyn-the-half-witch has an interesting thought that that particular title accidentally developed from Aegon seeing a Targ from his own blood ("prince") be needed ("promised") for a future fight HERE.

Which justifies how the TPTWP title/meaning exists in Westeros; no other Westerosi (maester or otherwise) really spoke of it before Stannis, who of course received such from Melisandre and more a restored-but-half-realized knowledge of the original Essoi mythic body of a savior. Said "restored" because the Targs have been isolated from or cut themselves from Essos but were still magically/by blood connected to it...bc their very blood is that source for those dragon dreams.

(Ironically, the Seven faith--meant to mimic Catholicsm and the Catholic Church in its:

dogma

that dogma's rigidity's influence over the whole of Westeros' society (chivalry/warriordom; mores on hierarchy and obedience, childrearing/corporal punishment, the self-mortification of the carving stars in one's forehead [though this is present in many real-world religions and sects, in the West its immediately recognized and associated with Christian self flagellation])

the multiplicity of many aspects of one god, the aesthetics of stained windows or multicolored glass/translucent substances inlaid or making up part of a geometric, architectural structure [not just buildings but crowns of the high Septon and Aenys I]

the structure of High Septon, septons, and septas mirroring Pope, priests/deacons/measters-monks/nuns

the HS/Pope's relationship with monarchs as to sometimes affirm and sometimes condemn and be some sort of religious "check" but also support for the monarchy

"holy days"

the Knights Templar (who were aka "The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon") & crusaders inspiring the Poor Fellows & the Warrior's Sons

*EDIT* some rituals, as well

has no element of a Christ-like or a generally mythic savior figure in its mythos. The none Catholic/Seven faiths [except the old gods, but even here there is a hint of a need for saving against the Long night but its just so decreased bc of te nearly lost greenseers and twstsote and the giants] all have this focus on a savior figure instead.)

[agentrouka-blog]

Sometimes I see cersei antis mention that cersei never loved jaime because jaime always had sex with cersei but she had sex with a bunch of people just because. But that isn't really the case...right? If I remember correctly it was because she wanted something from them and sex was her weapon.

I don't doubt that Cersei at least partially slept with, say, Lancel, out of the sheer desire for personal distraction, the same way she does with Taena Merryweather. With Osney Kettleblack, on the other hand, it is a pure transactional (and non-consentual) event. Sex with Jaime is, though, the only kind she truly enjoyed, by her own words.

But if we question "love", then we also need to look beyond sexual fidelity. The relationship between Jaime and Cersei is deeply flawed and codependent (even beyond the incest) - and crucially it is mutually so. It's not like Jaime has been truly making Cersei's well-being his priority in any way. He either ignores or isn't even aware of how deeply traumatized she is by Robert's abuse of her. He doesn't respect her relationship with her children. He pressures her into sex in incredibly high risk situations, even next to the corpse of her son. Her pain is non-existent or at least inconvenient to him. His hypocritical knightly vows are allowed to matter to him, but her grief and anger are things he disregards with ease. He is using her, obsessing over her, feeling entitled to her, blind to her, in the exact same way she is to him. If she was physically unfaithful, he has been abandoning her in other ways that are no less important.

Their relationship is deeply flawed. They hurt each other. But it's central to both of them. They are flawed brother and sister, flawed lovers, deeply deeply flawed people.

This isn't going to end with one of them going down and the other one walking away "redeemed". Jaime is a massive hypocrite at this point, walking out on Cersei because she "cheated" on him and washing his hands off the relationship as the poor victim, as if that's the only factor that matters. There's a metric ton of unfinished business, and some people like to ignore that because they prefer the idea of a poor misled hunk finally seeing the light. That's not Jaime.

That's not the story GRRM is telling.