#❝ . * no need for a queen affair ‚ answered.

[imaginedisish]

Is It Casual Now? (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: So this one is a couple of requests rolled into one. I got some asks about dancing around feelings, and some others about a fight/make up sex...and this is what I came up with. This is (very obviously) inspired by "Casual" by the queen herself, Chappell Roan. (Gif is not mine--from a user called trashy on Pinterest). Enjoy!

Summary: I know baby nooo attachment, but we're...KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOU'RE EATING ME OUT IS IT CASUAL NOW?

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cockwarming, so much smut, feelings, friends w/benefits/secret affair to lovers, Logan is afraid to love but goddammit he loves you, angsty asf, cursing, happy ending :), fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,405 short...not...

Over the course of his very long life, some of Logan’s memories have shifted, melded together. Days become nights and nights become days, an inescapable cycle with an indeterminate end. But Logan remembers the day he met you vividly. You tripped him up; sucked him out of the monotony of what at times felt like a meaningless existence. You changed everything. 

The summer air was hot and stuffy. He was standing in the hallway with Jean, Scott, Rogue, and Kurt. The door opened, sunlight filling the dark foyer. And then there you were, stepping inside, with Charles and Storm flanking you. 

Your eyes found his immediately. “My X-Men, this is our new recruit,” Charles had said, introducing you to the team. But you were only focused on the man in the middle. The man with the leather jacket and the dark black hair. 

“Hi,” you said shyly with a wave of your hand, eyes still focused on Logan. The rest of the team excitedly introduced themselves, but you weren’t listening. 

Logan smiled. “Hi,” he said back. He was all you could see. 

And he still is. But you’re dancing around your feelings—the both of you. You allow yourselves to give in, but only under the cover of darkness. Only in bed. Late at night. When the rest of the team is fast asleep. It’s always quiet; rushed steps down the hallway and soft taps on doors. Tripping into the darkness of a room to find the bed. A mess of limbs tangled together, moon high in the sky, cold light trickling through the curtains. 

It’s the early hours of the morning, the dawn creeping in through your window. Logan’s arm is wrapped around you, his hand holding your breast. It’s so domestic, so intimate. But you know he’s going to leave—one of you always leaves. Lately, it hurts worse every time the bed goes cold. 

“I should go,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. He tugs you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He’s still hard, his erection brushing against the curve of your ass. You push back into him teasingly. 

“Stay,” you beg, your hips rocking against him. 

He kisses your neck. “Can’t. You know we can’t.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know how much more of this arrangement you can take. The leaving. The hiding. The secretiveness. “Why?” You ask, separating from him. You roll over onto your other side to face him. “Why can’t we?”

“We just can’t,” he grunts, pushing himself up and out from under the covers. He finds his clothes on the ground and starts to dress himself. You sit up too, tears suddenly brimming behind your eyes. 

You shake your head. “That’s not an answer, Lo.” 

“Please,” he says, tugging his beater across his chest. He leans over you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You have to understand.” 

You nod, but you don’t understand. He kisses you once more before stepping quietly towards the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, like part of him can’t take this either. Like he has to fight some demon deep inside him not to crawl back into bed and pull you close. You know him; you can see it in his face, in the way he stands.  

“See you later?” You ask, swallowing nervously. You need to hear him say it—need him to remind you that this isn’t over. You’re desperate for anything—desperate for him. 

Logan smiles. “Yeah,” he nods. “Come to my room tonight, okay?”

You fight back your tears, plastering a fake smile on your face. “Okay.”

And then he’s slipping out the door, softly shutting it behind him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night…

His sheets are soft under your back. His arm holds you down, latched tightly over your hip, keeping your lower half glued to the mattress. His face is buried deep in your cunt. He’s lapping at you hungrily, needily. 

“Thought about you all day,” he mumbles against you, the bassy vibration of his voice sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. His fingers pump in and out of you, fast and hard. “Wanted to taste you so bad, pretty girl.” 

“Logan,” you whine as he takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. “F-feels so good.” 

Your walls flutter around him as he sinks his fingers deeper inside you. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a desperation you’re well acquainted with. You feel it whenever you’re around him, whenever he’s pressing himself closer to you, pushing himself inside of you. 

“Doing so good for me, darlin’,” he soothes, his thumb drawing circles into your hip. “Tastes so fucking good, so sweet.” His words are practically throwing you over the edge, destroying you, and then building you back up. 

He’s knuckle-deep inside you, lapping at you, watching your every reaction to see what makes you feel good. The sight of him is overwhelming—his mouth latched onto your clit, hair a mess, sweat on his brow, lust darkening his eyes. 

You throw your head back as he hits your sweet spot, his fingers scissoring inside you. “S-so close,” you stutter as he sinks into you. “Need you, Lo,” you whimper. 

“Need you too, beautiful,” he murmurs between laps. “More than you’ll ever know.” The words—their vulnerability and meaning—push you over, your orgasm crashing in waves. “That’s it,” he coos, plunging into you. “Give it to me.” He talks you through it, soft praises slipping from his lips as his tongue drags along your clit. Lemme taste you come, sweetheart. So good. So fucking beautiful. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt long after you’ve finished. He licks one long stripe through your folds before crawling up your body and settling in between your legs. His lips find yours, and you can taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue, wearing you like a badge of honor, like proof of his commitment to you.

Commitment. Right.  

He made you feel so good that you almost let yourself forget. Your arrangement. This stupid, goddamn arrangement. 

No staying. No telling. You. Him. The moonlight. And then nothing. 

Logan’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot underneath your ear. 

“Lo,” you whisper. He hums against you, not stopping. “Logan,” you chide again. 

He pushes himself up, looking down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What is it, princess?” You swallow harshly, blinking back your tears. The expression on his face shifts as he recognizes the pain in your eyes. “You okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “I want you,” is all you say. 

“I want you too,” he says back, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“N-no,” you choke. “I want you.”

He pulls up a bit, putting some space between the two of you. “You have me,” he says, confusion painted across his face. 

“No, I don’t,” you mutter, shutting your eyes. 

Logan rolls off of you and sits up against the headboard. “What are you talking about?” 

You open your eyes, looking up at him. “I can’t do this ‘sneaking around’ thing anymore,” you start, tears flooding your eyes as you struggle to hold them back. “I want—” you cut yourself off. You can’t play down your emotions anymore. “I need you, all of you. Always. I’m tired of leaving, of hiding, of this whole casual thing.”

“Casual?” His voice is harsh, accusatory. “This isn’t fucking casual to me. You think I don’t care about you?” He reaches out to touch you, but you turn away, swinging your legs around the side of the bed. You grab your clothes from the floor and dress quickly. 

You turn back to face him. “Why don’t you want to stay with me, then? Why are we only together when no one is looking?” You shake your head, your hands balling into fists. “Why don’t you want me all the time?”

He scoffs, standing from the bed and striding over to you. “You don’t get it. I do. I want you. I just can’t—”

“You can’t what?” You shout. You don’t care who can hear you. You’re not even thinking about the others right now. You’re only thinking about Logan. And then, the words shoot out your mouth, cold and angry. Empty. Strained. “Can’t love me like I love you?”

Your eyes widen, shocked at what you’ve just said. Your chest heaves, and you rush to the door. 

“Wait, please,” Logan calls, running to catch you before you leave. “Don’t go.” 

You twist the knob. “It’s too late now.” You open the door and slip out, trying to shove it closed in his face. But Logan pushes against you, keeping the door open and stepping out into the hallway. You turn around and storm down the corridor, ignoring his footsteps following behind. 

He grabs your wrist, and you yank it away. You’re in front of your bedroom door now. Logan is just a few feet away. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

His eyes search yours frantically. “No, let’s talk. Let’s—”

You cut him off. “I don’t want to anymore, Lo.” You open your door, ignoring his pleas, leaving him on the other side as you slam it shut behind you. You rest your back against the cold wood, sliding down to the floor. You pull your legs into your chest, your head resting on your knees. 

Your tears flow freely now, running down your cheeks. You sit like that for what feels like hours, sobs racking through your chest. But when your tears finally subside and you look up, you see the moon is still high in the sky. 

You force yourself to stand, your knees weak as you push yourself off the ground. Your throat is dry from all that time spent crying. You decide to go down to the kitchen, to get water, to calm down. But when you open the door, you’re met with him. 

Logan. He’s on the other side, his hand gripping the door frame, muscles flexing, towering over you. You try to slip under his arm, but he doesn’t let you, grabbing your waist and holding you in place. 

“We need to talk,” he mutters, backing you into the room and shutting the door with a kick. 

You cross your arms against your chest. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” But he isn’t standing down. Your thighs back into the edge of your bed as Logan leans down over you. You look up at him, doing your all not to give in to the voice that screams to touch him, to taste him. You take a deep breath. “We want different things. You don’t want me the way I want you, and that’s fine,” you lie; it isn’t fine at all. 

“I never said that,” he huffs, his fingertips tentatively stroking your arms. You can’t pull away as his eyes find yours. “I just…” he trails off, taking your hands in his. 

You scoff, shaking your head. “You can’t even tell me how you feel. You can’t even—” “Because it’s hard!” He says, his jaw working. “It’s hard when you lose everyone you love.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “You don’t get it,” he murmurs, squeezing your hands, his chest heaving. 

“Logan—”

“You’re always around, always on my fucking mind.” He pauses, his eyes glossing over as the words fall from his lips. “I have never loved someone the way I love you. And if I lose you…if I can’t have you…” He trails off, pain clear on his face. “I will never be the same again. You changed me. And that’s terrifying. I felt safer keeping you at a distance but…” His breath catches in his throat. “I can’t go back to how I was before you.”

Your lips part as you stammer, searching for the right thing to say. “I-I didn’t know. I just assumed that you—” “That I was just fucking you?” He asks, tilting his head in disbelief. “This has never been just fucking.” He slots his knee between your legs, tugging you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you. Always have. From that first day.” 

You lean into his touch. “I love you, too,” you whisper. 

He presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t lose you,” he says. There’s a tremble in his voice. “It’s just you. It’s only ever gonna be you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you reassure. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

He nods against you. “I never meant to hurt you,” Logan husks. “Never meant to make you feel like I didn’t love you.”  

“Logan, it’s okay,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. You need him closer, and you know he needs you too. His hands slip underneath your shirt as his knee nudges against your center. “Always gonna need you.” You can’t help but grind down on him, the pressure relieving the building ache in your core. “N-need you now.”

“Need you too, pretty girl,” he soothes. He guides you down onto the mattress. His palms spread across your stomach, tracing over your ribs—just under your breasts. “Wanna make you feel good.” He cups your tits, squeezing softly, his thumbs ghosting over your nipples. 

Logan settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm, his knee still pressing into your all too-clothed cunt. He knows how much you need him—the way your hips roll against him, how you arch up to meet his touch. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, dragging your heat against him again. “Fuck me, please.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his erection hard against your thigh. You can feel his resolve slipping. “Gonna give you what you want, pretty girl,” he groans. “Give you anything you want.”

Everything is rushed, frantic, needy. He’s sitting up, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head, practically ripping it in the process. He hooks his thumbs into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one quick movement. 

He takes you in, his eyes flitting up and down your body. “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, his hand squeezing your hip reverentially before tearing off his beater and throwing it to the floor. He slips his sweatpants down his legs, and then his boxers. 

Logan pushes you into the center of the bed as he climbs over you. He balances on his forearm while his free hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your entrance. 

You can tell he wants to shove himself inside, to take you greedily, but he doesn’t. He’s holding back; going slow like he’s remembering this so he can think about it later, when he needs it most—savoring the feeling of you against him. His tip slides through your folds, teasing your entrance. He nudges against your clit, spreading your arousal. 

But his composure quickly cracks. He’s suddenly sinking inside you deeply—down to the hilt—with no warning, taking up every inch you have to give him. He stretches you out, the size of him still no easier to take than that first time he fucked you. “Logan,” you whine, hands pawing at his back for support. 

He swallows your whimpers with a kiss. “I’m right here.” His voice is honeyed as he talks you through it. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Not going anywhere.” He pulls out and shoves himself back inside, deeper this time. His fingers are on your clit now, circling softly. “So fucking tight, so wet. Perfect pussy.”

His cock rubs your inner walls deliciously, pumping in and out. He’s on top of you, inside you, and he’s yours. He’s all yours. You wrap your legs around his waist as he rocks into you. He’s building his pace, letting himself go. 

“It’s s-so good.” You stumble over your words, already fucked out. “Y-you’re so good.” 

His thrusts are faster now, his hips snapping roughly into yours. “So soft,” he murmurs, biting your bottom lip and then licking away the sting he left behind. “So fucking soft and pretty. Taking me so good, darlin’.”

His words spark that fire in your belly. You can feel it spread down, down, down. The ache between your legs blooming, turning into something bigger. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him. He groans at the feeling as you take him deeper. All you want, all you need, is him. Logan. “Yours,” you whisper. “L-Logan I’m all yours. Not going anywhere.”

“Shit,” he curses, pounding into you, all the way hit after hit. “You’re all I need,” he confesses between thrusts, panting. He flicks your clit, pinching, circling hard. “Mine, all fucking mine. Never gonna let go.”

“Don’t,” you beg, his forehead pressing to yours. He’s all-consuming; he’s everywhere and he’s everything. “D-don’t let go,” you finish, your lips ghosting his. He takes the hint, and his lips crash down onto yours as he ruts into you. 

You can feel yourself cresting, ready to let go. “I know you’re getting close for me, beautiful,” Logan growls, pressing a kiss to that sweet spot under your ear. “Can feel you squeezing me.” Your walls clench around him, and he groans. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Feels so good.”

“L-Lo…” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought as he fucks into you, stroking your clit faster and harder. You’re falling apart underneath him, every thrust pushing you closer to that peak. You throw your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Eyes on me,” Logan demands, his voice thick and raspy. You listen, looking up at him. His eyes are locked on yours, lust-filled and dark. “Wanna see that pretty face when you come, darlin’.” 

You can feel his pace faltering—can feel him getting closer too. But he’s relentless as his hips roll against yours, fingers still working your clit. It’s too much. “Logan,” you whimper. “I-I’m gonna…” “I know, beautiful,” he says softly. “Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my cock.” 

He thrusts again, flicking your clit. And that’s all it takes for you to crumble. He watches closely as you come undone. You’re trembling underneath him, his fingers still circling your core. Your muscles contract around him, sucking him in, taking him deeper. You moan his name like it’s a prayer, something holy. But this is beyond that. This is something more, something different. 

“L-love you, Lo,” you murmur, pleasure still coursing through your veins. 

Logan curses under his breath, your words unlocking something trapped inside him. His cock throbs against your walls, and you know he’s almost there. “Love you too, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Love you so fucking much.” He slides his hand up your body and under your back, pulling you closer. You need the contact, and so does he. 

“W-want you to come inside,” you whine, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 

“F-fuck, yeah?” He stutters. His cock twitches again. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart, give you what you need.” His lips find yours as he comes, kissing you hungrily. He’s warm inside you, painting your walls, filling you up just like he said he would. Logan’s head falls to your shoulder as his thrusts slow. He stalls inside you, staying there, not quite ready to slip out.

“Lo?” You call. He hums a yeah, sweetheart, into your shoulder. “D-don’t want you to pull out. Want you to stay inside.” 

He mutters a fuck and presses a kiss to your collarbone. He maneuvers the two of you under the covers, careful not to pull out. You’re a tangle of limbs, still connected, still together. He’s half hard inside you, and you know he’s not quite finished just yet. But there’s later, tomorrow, forever. Everything feels perfect—the way it was always meant to be. 

There’s one thing left to do; one thing left to ask. 

“Logan?” You call again. He smiles at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose. “Can you stay?”

His smile widens. “Always gonna stay,” he soothes, pulling you tighter to his chest, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “You never have to ask again.”

You hum, burying your head into the center of his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says against the crown of your head. “Always will. Always gonna stay.”

Always.

tags: @babygirl-4986

[astra-ravana]

Cartomancy

A tarot styled divination method using standard playing cards. This oracle first appeared in Europe in the 14th century and is still used sporadically today. Practitioners of this divination are commonly called cartomancers. Cards can be laid in a variety of spreads and functions much like a tarot deck. As such, cartomancy decks should be designated and regarded with all the respect of a deck of tarot cards. The meanings of the cards are as follows:

Hearts

• Ace: Love, beginning, happiness, friendship

• King: Fair-haired man, affectionate and generous, but impetuous

• Queen: Fair-haired woman, trustworthy

• Jack: Fair-haired young person, good friend

• 10: Good fortune, joy

• 9: Desires fulfilled

• 8: Invitations/partings

• 7: Someone unreliable

• 6: Unexpected good fortune, generosity

• 5: Jealousy, indecision

• 4: Changes, travel

• 3: Need for caution

• 2: Friendship, success

Clubs

• Ace: Harmony, property, achievement, love

• King: Dark-haired man, honest, open

• Queen: Dark-haired woman, strong, helpful

• Jack: Reliable friend

• 10: Fortune, abundance

• 9: New romance

• 8: Opposition, danger of recklessness

• 7: Prosperity, potential romantic interference

• 6: Business success

• 5: Help from a friend/partner

• 4: Bad change of fortune

• 3: Good partnership

• 2: Disappointment and opposition

Diamonds

• Ace: Money, a ring

• King: Fair-haired man, stubborn

• Queen: Fair-haired woman, flirty, witty

• Jack: A relative, unreliable

• 10: Journey, wealth

• 9: Financial opportunity, surprises

• 8: Declarations of love

• 7: A gift

• 6: Reconciliation

• 5: Successful meeting

• 4: Change for the better, an inheritance

• 3: Domestic/legal battles

• 2: Important love affair

Spades

• Ace: Conflict, infidelity, stress

• King: Dark-haired man, successful, ambitious

• Queen: Dark-haired woman, seductive

• Jack: Dark-haired youth, well meaning

• 10: Grief, despair, imprisonment

• 9: Bad luck, delays, quarrels

• 8: Disappointment

• 7: Possible loss of friendship

• 6: Improvements

• 5: Anxiety, setbacks, interference

• 4: Jealousy, business troubles

• 3: Bitter parting

• 2: Scandal, gossip, deceit

Note: You may choose to include the joker to represent folly, new beginnings, the Universe and to also signify the person receiving the reading.

Bonus: Using Playing Cards to Detect Baneful Magick

This technique relies on reading either red or black cards and nothing else. It can technically be used to answer any yes/no question.

Shuffle the deck and ask, "have I been hexed or cursed?" -while you are shuffling. When ready, stop shuffling and deal out five cards in a row, face down. Then one by one, left to right, turn them over. Black indicates a 'no' response, while red indicates 'yes'. You can see the degree of the curse by the presence of red cards. All black is a clear 'no' and all red is a clear 'yes'. The spread can be read as follows:

5 Black - 0 Red: No curse or negative energy present

4 Black - 1 Red: Blip of dark energy, natural defenses can ward it off

3 Black - 2 Red: Dark energy present, possible jinx

2 Black - 3 Red: Sufficient dark energy, possible hex, cleanse immediately

1 Black - 4 Red: Significant harmful magick present, likely hex or curse. Do a purification/protection ritual

0 Black - 5 Red: Curse confirmed, take serious action to uncross/cleanse/protect. Someone has intentionally tried to harm you with magick.

[daisyblog]

English Love Affair

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN plays ‘English Love Affair’ to see Harry’s reaction.

based on this request.

YN scrolled through her phone, trying to find a song to play from her Spotify to put on whilst she cleaned, recording herself to upload to her TikTok later on.

“Guys does anyone else need music on whilst they clean?”. She asked the silent audience, knowing that nobody could answer her. “I just love a sing and dance as I do it”.

As YN scrolled through her never ending playlists, her eyes lit up when she saw the popular 5sos song that was popular in the directioner world. “Fook off…how could I forget this song existed!”.

“It started on a weekend in May…I was looking for attention, needed intervention…Felt somebody looking at me…With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection”.

YN began to mouth along to the words knowing Harry would appear any minute to tell her to turn it off. “I’ll give Harry ten seconds before he appears”. YN continued to dance as she placed some dishes in the dish washer.

“The way she looked was so ridiculous…Every single step had me waiting for the next…Before I knew it, it was serious…Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car”.

“Turn it off!”. Harry voice echoed in the distance.

YN stopped her dancing as she placed a hand up to her mouth to stop her laugh from bursting out. “What did you say? Can’t hear you!”.

“When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about…The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain I can't forget, my English love affair…Today, I'm seven thousand miles away…The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget…My English love affair”.

Harry appeared in view as he stood with an unamused look. His arms folded across his chest, the muscles of his biceps shouting out as they tensed.

YN rolled her lips inside her mouth, trying her hardest not to let out a hint of amusement as she looked at Harry’s harsh frown. But her internal battle failed her as she sang the next line.

“My English love affair”.

“Why are you listening to this song? There’s millions of other songs you could listen to…and you choose this fucking one!”. Harry voice was calm for someone who was clearly annoyed and irritated.

YN shrugged her shoulders as she gave Harry an innocent smile. “It’s a good song”.

“It’s about my sister…yah know…and yeah”. Harry tumbled over his words, not wanting to say what the song was about out loud. “Imagine having to listen to a song like that about your siblings”.

YN knew what Harry was trying to do, but she was one step ahead of him when it came to arguing the point. “Yeah…at least you know how Louis felt listening to Watermelon Sugar!”.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find a way to defend himself, but his lack of words failed him.

Wanting to push his reaction further, YN continued to sing along. “Gemma’s a queen for this one!”.

“YN!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

[bones4thecats]

What If Their S/O Was A Royal Heir?

Type of Writing: #1 - Poll Result Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Idia Shroud, Jamil Viper, and Jack Howl Name: What If Their S/O Was A Royal Heir? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: Alright, so, the basic set-up behind this is in the order of pieces on my upcoming list is going to be the order in which these are released. Also, requests shall NOT be reopened until I finish at least most of the random prompts I have are done, thanks!

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❤️ You were a descendant of the Queen who took up after the Queen of Hearts passed away years ago, and ever since then, your family has ruled the Queendom of Roses without faults

❤️ Because of fears of betrayal and such, your family never really spoke to many others outside of work, but, when you received a letter claiming your advising attendance at Night Raven College, you jumped at the opportunity

❤️ When you arrived, you suffered far less criticism from Riddle than others, and many believed that he feared you because of your ranking, he didn't want to upset his mother

❤️ But, when you guys started to befriend one another and began your relationship, you figured out the true reason he didn't behead you as much as others

❤️ He didn't wish to bring any shame to his family, and when you saw how down he looked about that thought, you admitted to faking so many smiles, just because it was what your ancestor, known as the White Queen did

" I guess we aren't that different after all, huh? "

❤️ Ever since that day, you have recommenced having his parents meet yours, and, despite his constant pleas of you letting it go, you finally relented and asked for him to at least help you send a letter to his mother

❤️ Riddle's mother not-shockingly wasn't fond that her son began to see someone without her permission, but, when she realized how prominent you were in their homeland, she had to relent and allow your relationship to proceed, she didn't need the royal guard on her back

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎮 How did this guy manage to get your attention? The world may never know

🎮 As a higher-ranked official, specifically a descendant of the man who took the thrown of the King of the Underworld after his demise, you were normally thrown into many different affairs, making you try hiding away constantly

🎮 Thankfully, your prayers of freedom were answered, and you got an offer to join Night Raven College, and your family couldn't hold you back, since you gave the school a solid yes behind their backs

🎮 When you were organized into Ignihyde with Idia, he was very intimidated by you, since you were so popular among students

🎮 Though, funnily enough, you would go running away from the many students who wanted to ask you for things, and you would end up running into a nearby room, one in which Idia was occupying alone

🎮 You guys started speaking about how much you enjoyed a game and you ended up becoming quite close, in which you helped with with building Ortho's mechanical body

🎮 Idia was definitely nervous when you started your relationship, to him, you were the best thing to exist; powerful - yet caring, and quite smart when it comes to strategies, while he was, in his opinion, odd and not-worthy of you

🎮 Most of the time, he pushes your ranking in the Island of Woe, if you could push his issues aside, then he could put everything about you aside as well!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 Many feared you because of how logical you were, you were rumored to be able to see through any kind of lies or, really, any kind of deceit, no matter the person

🐍 Jamil had heard about you mainly from Kalim and his parents, as you were a far-off relative of the Al-Asim's, specifically, you were a descendant of the Sultana from hundreds of years ago

🐍 You were being forced to heir the thrown, since your older brother had been assassinated a few years prior, and when you came by for a summer to spend time with your younger distant cousins, he would be lying if he said he wasn't fond of you

🐍 Whenever you noticed that Kalim was getting to be too much for Jamil, you would grab the young ball-of-sunshine and ask if he wanted to play with his younger siblings and you

🐍 Due to your far different rankings, you kept your relationship hidden, as you didn't wish for your family's council to end up punishing his family, who had done nothing wrong

🐍 Jamil would normally grab you and him a small cup of tea and relax with you on the balcony of your room, keeping the silence either in progress or cut it out with conversations about your lives and dreams of the future

🐍 And while your relationship may be in forcible secrecy, you shared your dream of living with Jamil by your side, either ruling over your homeland or relinquishing your role to one of your younger siblings to travel with your one and only

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐺 Jack knew quite a bit about you, as his parents loved to tell stories of the news to him and his younger siblings as they grew older, and they just made the news more recent and a hint more mature as Jack aged

🐺 So, when you arrived at Night Raven College at the same time as him, he was quite excited when you were organixed in the same dorm as him, Savanaclaw

🐺 He noticed how casually you would speak to Leona, and that was when the pieces of his mind actually realized just who you were

🐺 As the second-in-line heir to the Shaftlands, and the offspring of the descendant of the Fairest Queen and a high-ranking raven beastman, you had met the two heirs of Sunset Savannah early on in life, prompting a strong friendship between you and the lion-beastman to emerge

🐺 Jack began to speak with you when he saw how you trained your unique magic to be stronger than it was at the start of the year, and he began to train with you

🐺 One day, his siblings decided to come by for a visit, they stopped and starred at you as your boyfriend chuckled and introduced you, and after hearing your role and name, the young boy and girl began to bombard you with questions on your life as a royal member

🐺 The wolf-beastman smiled and watched as you spoke gently with his siblings as his grandparents and parents asked him how you met and when you began your relationship

🐺 He just smiled and answered them honestly, and he hoped one day his family could meet yours, and the kids you were currently playing with were adults as your own children took their places...

[maidragoste]

can you please make a Harwin Strong x reader where the reader and breakbones fall in love and get married but then the rumors about jace’s heritage start and Harwin admits cheating??? Thank you in advance

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader

note: sorry for taking anon to make your request, and also for not following it completely. I hope you like it 🥰🥰

If you want a part two let me know because I already have ideas 👀

Part 2

reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"He is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon" announced your good sister proudly handing the baby to the king, you excitedly waited your turn to meet your nephew. The next to take the baby was the queen, you couldn't help but worry when you saw how the smile disappeared from her, you understood that your nephew had been healthy and without any deformity so you didn't understand why your friend's face suddenly seemed so concerned. It even seemed to you that Alicent was hesitating before passing the child to you.

And when you held Jacaerys in your arms, you understood why. All the emotion you felt disappeared the second you saw her brown locks on his little head. Your vision blurred and you began to blink to make any possible tears disappear. You weren't going to cry. You wouldn't make a scene. The existence of this child was humiliation enough. The boy was precious but you couldn't bear to see him anymore so you passed him on to your brother.

"Hopefully the next one looks more like Velaryon," you said with a fake smile and the room suddenly seemed cold. You were pleased to see Rhaenyra and Harwin tense up. "I suppose mother's Baratheon blood is stronger than we thought," you added, looking at Laenor. You also felt betrayed by your brother. You were sure that he also knew about your cousin and husband's affair and he was never able to tell you.

"It could also be Aemma's Arryn blood," Viserys said, and you wanted to laugh when he didn't seem to read the room. Or perhaps he preferred to feign ignorance before punishing his daughter for giving birth to a bastard.

•••••

“Is it yours?” was the first thing you said as soon as you were alone with your husband in their chambers. You didn't need to clarify what you were talking about. Harwin knew you were talking about Jacaerys.

The city guard commander thought through his answer. He didn't want to endanger the princess or his son, but from the look in your eyes he knew that if he lied to you, your reaction would be much worse. It was useless to lie to you because you already knew the truth. You knew it the first moment you saw the little prince.

"Yes," he replied "I'm sorry" He wasn't sorry about the birth of his child but he was sorry for hurting you.

You already knew the answer to your question, you just wanted to see if your husband was brave enough to admit his infidelity. You felt like such an idiot for not having seen it coming sooner…

Lie. You saw it coming only you were in denial and you turned a blind eye. You convinced yourself to believe Harwin's lies when he told you that he wouldn't come back to your chambers because he was on night watch even though you knew he couldn't have so many shifts in a row. You pretended not to hear the servants talk about the closeness between the commander of the city guard and Princess Rhaenyra. You ignored Larys and Alicent's concerns about those rumors. You ignored every red flag because you refused to believe it was true.

You had fallen in love with Harwin because he was a good man, he was attentive and loving and he made you laugh. In your head Harwin couldn't be hurting you and deceiving you in front of the whole court, your Harwin would never do that. Not the sweet man who had taken it upon himself to learn your family traditions for your wedding, not the man who whispered sweet words to you in the morning, not the man who looks like a happy puppy every time he sees you, not the man who From time to time he would bring you gifts after his patrols because according to him that bracelet or that ring reminded him of you… Not even when the princess got pregnant, he never made all those gestures or went to your bed. If he won't love you then he should have stopped doing all of that, unless he was only doing it to keep looking like a loving husband in your eyes.

"You love her?" You crossed your arms in an attempt to put on armor, you didn't want to show him how much his betrayal affected you.

You knew Harwin well and you knew he wouldn't cheat on you just for a one-night stand or just for passion. He wouldn't spoil his marriage just on the whim of the moment.

Harwin's eyes looked at you with deep sadness. He didn't want to hurt you even more but you deserved to know the truth "I love her" he admitted "I love both"

He wasn't lying. He still loved you, he could never stop loving the lovely girl he met as he helped her climb a tree to avoid a suitor. But her heart now also belonged to the princess, it had not been her intention to fall in love with her. After saving her from the incident of her wedding, he couldn't help but worry about her and he took notice of her as he seemed to have no one at court. He became close to a friend, he began to get to know what Rhaenyra was really like and he was captivated.

"Go to hell" you dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself back from punching him in the face "Now do you want to be like Aegon the Conqueror? Do you want to have two wives?" You sneered "From now on you will spend one night with me and ten with her?" you snorted.

Harwin took one of your hands and held it pressed over her heart so you could feel her heartbeat "I really love you both."

"It doesn't matter, because you already lost me" you let go of her grip and your husband looked at you with pain. At another time you would have felt sorry for him but now all you felt was pure resentment. "Please, go back to your princess and leave me alone"

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[thought--bubble]

In Need Of an Heir Part 3

Aemond (Canon Era) X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings after the cut.

Word Count: 3,177

In Need Of an Heir Master list

Canon Era Aemond Master List

Full Master list

Banners By @arcielee

Warnings: Forced marriage, panic attack(took from personal experience for this) Nothing else really 🥰

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I did get that promotion, by the way! (I am now a staff accountant. Yay! 🥳) prepping for finals was the opposite of a good time....(strategic management and policy form was actually a form of torture and not a class🫠🫠) one more semester until graduation! 💚💚

The end of that dinner could not have come soon enough, when it finally did come you and Royce were the first two to head out of the room.

Once you enter the corridor, your brother lets out a chuckle "Unbelievable"

"What?!" You snap at him, your soft, gentle demeanor starting to peel back.

"You'll be a princess in a few days' time." He taps her arm thoughtfully.

"Oh yes, such wonderful news, my warm and inviting future spouse has me weak in the knees" you hiss

Royce looks at you and raises and eyebrow "ahhh there she is. I was waiting for you to be the little storm I know you are"

You roll your eyes. "This isn't funny, Royce! That man is void of all emotion"

Royce looks around. "Keep your voice down. These walls have ears"

You huff, you know he's right, but at this moment, you just want to scream at anyone who will listen that you do not want this.

You and Royce continue back to your chambers in silence. You are hardly feeling sad or anxious anymore. The only thing you feel now is rage.

When you enter your chambers, Royce follows behind you.

"I know he seems......cold," he says as soon as the door closes. You shoot him a pointed glare as he chuckles, "but" he puts his finger to his chin as if in deep thought, "he may perhaps be different when the two of you are alone. He is a prince, he was raised to show the world a certain version of himself. I'm sure there is a different version of him that he would show his wife"

You again roll your eyes. Royce could be right, but you don't want to hear this right now. You just want to escape this situation.

He sighs. "All I'm saying is don't just assume the whole affair will be miserable"

"I just don't understand how father could still allow this to happen in the first place! What of the disrespect shown to our house? He murdered a messenger in our skies, kin may I mind you. Then, he runs off and marries a low born servant while betrothed to me!"

"That was a rumor from what I understand. No marriage took place. She was but a paramour, " Royce says as he pours himself some wine.

"Oh yes that's much better. A man of honor clearly" you look away from Royce jaw tight.

Royce chuckles again and shakes his head. "Men can be weak to the allure of women do not take it as a personal affront."

You grit your teeth. " I am not taking it personally. I am taking it as a testament to his lack of moral fiber"

Royce sighs and gives you an annoyed look before running his hand down his face. " You needn't love the man. Just act as a faithful wife and a kind and just queen, and when the time comes, a loving mother." he sits down in the armchair before the hearth. "Just perform your duties and stay out of his way"

"You wouldn't understand, you will marry some noble woman who will answer to you, you are not the one who will be at the mercy of some Targaryen psychopath who burnt down half the realm in anger! Do not try and pretend to understand the situation in which I find myself and the very real dangers I now face!" You calm yourself and look at Royce with despair."Is there truly no way out of this?"

He looks at you with sympathy. "With this marriage, Baratheon blood will sit the iron throne. There is no way out of this, I'm afraid"

"Life as a broodmare..... lucky me"

"You will be queen of the seven kingdoms .."

"A broodmare dressed in jewels is still a broodmare." You sigh and look toward the bedchamber.

"I wish to retire." You feel exhausted and defeated

"Very well," he says as he stands. "Since you can not change your situation, I would suggest you find the good in it." With that statement, he leaves your chambers.

You roll your eyes as you hear the door close.

'The good in it,' you think to yourself,'how exactly do I find the good in a situation in which I have no power or control?"

The next few days went by in a whirlwind. The lack of time to prepare for the wedding had the dowager queen Alicent scrambling to have as much of what was expected of a royal wedding as possible. You were constantly being dragged to dress fittings, while Alicent stood approving or denying the fabrics and designs of the dress. You stood there like a mannequin. Not one choice was yours. Not the dress, not the jewelry, not the hair style and certainly not the groom.

A groom which you had seen none of. There was no courting or getting to know eachother you simply prepared for the wedding with the dowager queen, and he was off doing something else you knew nothing of. You would be married off to a man you have only ever greeted.

This had you in a state of mild disassociation. You simply existed in your day to day movements instead of living in them.

The day before the wedding started like all the others. Invited to tea first thing with the dowager queen. You made your way through the winding corridors, having memorized the path from your apartments to hers.

As you come upon her door, you tap lightly. One of Alicents serving girls answers the door and ushers you in.

"You come around the corner to see the dowager queen sitting in her usual stance teacup in hand. " she smiles up at you gently as she waits for you to take a seat.

"So I think we are as prepared as we are going to get. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, so..... I think today will be a good time for you to take some rest."

You squint your eyes at her in disbelief. "Hmm" is all you manage to say.

"Though" she starts, and you think to yourself, "Here it comes' "there is one thing I hoped to discuss with you. Since your mother is unable to get here in time, I wished to......... guide you. . .. through the requirements of your wedding night"

You inwardly cringe at the mention of your wedding night. You had been taught as a girl growing up about the coupling that will take place between a man and his wife. How important it is to consummate your marriage, and it is certainly not something you wish to discuss with Alicent.

"Oh " is all you can manage to say as you wring your hands in your lap.

"Aemond will guide you just listen to his instructions, and you will be fine. Don't be nervous or scared, " you can tell she is trying to bring you comfort, but it only serves to make you more uncomfortable.

"I understand this is a subject he is quite educated on already." You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth and close your eyes. "My apologies, your grace, that was most inappropriate"

She sighs and looks down at her lap as she picks her fingers. "It was....but I can understand your distaste for impropriety." she places her teacup down and makes direct eye contact with you. "I ask only that you do not judge him too harshly. A man at war is under an immense amount of stress and may make poor decisions. He is a good man, though, my son, and I have not one doubt it my mind that he will be a good husband."

You nod desperate for this conversation to end so you can take your leave.

She sighs again as she eyes you up and down. No doubt trying to dicern your thoughts. "Very well. You may go. Do take a walk through the gardens. They are most beautiful and are a wonderful place to clear one's thoughts"

You thank her for her hospitality before you curtsey and gently walk out of her apartments. The moment you enter the corridor, you place your hand over your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart.

You are chastising yourself in your head for speaking so out of turn with the dowager queen. 'What was I thinking? What if she tells him? What if he takes great offense?'

"Ugghhh"

"Is everything alright, my lady?"

You close your eyes and freeze before slowly turning around and coming face to face with your future husband. You have been so busy fighting this arrangement that you had not taken the time to properly look at him, but here, in front of you like this, you can not help but gaze at him.

Tall and lithe. Long bonde hair top half pulled back . Sharp jawline and high cheekbones. His one purple eye boring into you.

"Oh... yes, my prince just.....ummm big day tomorrow"

"Hmmm," he clicks his tongue as he looks you up and down. "Are you due to visit my mother?"

"Oh no, just left her company, actually," you shift nervously from one foot to the other.

"Very well then, I will keep you no longer." he walks past you and gently knocks on the door to Alicent's apartments.

You perform a small curtsey and then continue to make your way down the corridor. Before rounding the corner, you look back at the man standing before his mother's door. His long slender frame stood perfectly poised with his slim waist and long arms tucked behind him.

You feel your cheeks warming up slightly as you look at him, a small smile coming to your face before you come to your senses, turning quickly and continuing toward the gardens.

You reach the gardens quickly and look for a place to sit. You decide to sit by some rose bushes and start to laugh, thinking to yourself,

'I'm marrying a Targaryen prince, a mass murdering kinslayer. Who I am just now noticing is most pleasing to my eyes.' You put your face into your hands.

"I've gone daft"

"You've always been daft." Your head shoots up to see Royce standing over you.

"May I not have a moment where a man doesn't just sprout from the ground unannounced!"

He looks at you quizzically but just shrugs it off. "I wanted to see you on this your last day of being unwed"

"That is most kind, brother, but at this moment, I would like to be alone with my thoughts"

"I will be leaving quickly after the wedding. I really would like to spend some time with you. I do not know when I shall see you again"

You feel a pang of sadness in your chest. Once Royce leaves, it will just be you and the Targaryens. You'll be a little storm surrounded by dragons.

You spend the entire afternoon with Royce. Instead of talking about your upcoming marriage, you choose to reminisce about your shared childhood at storms end. How you used to sneak out to watch Royce's sword training lessons or how you used to steal Cassandra's hairbrushes and hide them throughout the castle just so you could watch her and her serving girls as they looked for them frantically. The nights when there would be a particularly strong storm outside you and your siblings would sit together and watch strikes of lightning cross the sky and enjoy just being in eachothers presence without having to say a word. The memories fill you with joy as well as grief.

You never realized how important these moments were when you were in them. But now that they are just memories and you know you won't be making any more memories like this, a feeling of finality settles over you.

You have supper in your chambers, just Royce and you, and once he leaves and your chamber maid helps you out of your dress and into sleep clothes you get in bed and lay down staring at the canopy above you.

Everything changes tomorrow. You leave house Baratheon the only thing you have ever known, and join house Targaryen. Royce will leave, and it will not just be you and your new family. Your new husband

You fought with yourself all night, willing to sleep to come, and when it finally did, it felt like simply a blink of the eye before you were being woken up, 3 chamber maids bustling about your chamber.

"Good, Morn, my lady." Amber greets you delicately. "We have a bath prepared for you"

"What of breaking fast?" You groggily grumble, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes.

"After the bath, my lady.... lots to do today. " Amber stands beside the bed hands clasped in front of her as she waits for you to get out of bed.

"Yes, ok, you are right." You sit up and look around your chamber. There are 2 more chamber maids assisting amber with filling the tub. They have the tub filled and seem to just be waiting for you.

You slide your feet off the side of the bed, and they hit the cold floor. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, your stomach a mix of knots and nervous queasyness.

You stand up and head over to the tub. You put one finger in the water. It is warm and inviting but you hesitate. Completing this bath is one step closer to the Sept. Every single thing you do today is one step closer to that damned Sept.

Your legs begin to wobble a bit beneath you.

"My lady?" Amber asks while looking at you with a concerned gaze.

"Let's get this over with" you strip from your night clothes and sink into the warm water and the three maids surround you a maid on each side scrubbing your body while amber is washing your hair.

It's all so dehumanizing. Being scrubbed and polished. Like some kind of jewel or prize for your new husband. You stare blankly ahead as the maids do their duty lost in your thoughts.

When your bath is complete, you are dried off and changed into a very basic gown. No doubt so you can have your morning meal before the real poking and prodding begins.

You try to eat but end up mostly just pushing food around your plate. Once you finally admit defeat and accept the fact that you are not going to get much more down besides a lone strawberry and a few grapes the real preening is ready to begin.

First Amber combs and braids your hair. A beautiful design of twisted braids accented by little white flowers she placed along the crown of your head.

Before you even have time to marvel at the beauty of it, you are dragged off to be fitted into your wedding gown one final time.

As the soft fabric of the dress sails across your skin, it suddenly feels suffocating, stifling. You start to push at the fabric, trying to get it off.

"My lady?" Amber asks concerned

"I ... I can't wear this.... I can't do this!" You start pushing on the fabric more forcefully desperate to remove the garment.

"My lady we haven't much time left-" Amber is cut off by your screams

"You think I'm unaware of how little time is left?" You bark at her, shoving the fabric off of your arms, watching as the dress pools around your feet.

Your breathing is fast and your head is spinning.

"I'll get the dowager queen" one of the maids says frantically as she goes to leave the room.

"No!" Amber interrupts. "Get lord Royce"

The other maid nods and leaves the room

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have snapped at you that way," you say, clearly panicking. You look down at the gown.

"I.... I have to get dressed......" Your stomach lurches.

"Let's just take a quick break, my lady," Amber says, gently putting her hand out to you to help you step down from the pedestal you had been placed on.

You nod furiously. "Yes, a break. Yes, " your breathing begins to regulate as you step out of the dress and off the pedestal.

The first maid returns with Royce following closely behind. You look up at Royce eyes wide and burst into tears.

"Everyone out," he orders, and the maids all scurry from the room.

"Little storm," he says while walking over to you

"I can't, Royce. I can not do this"

He grabs you by the shoulders looking you directly in your eyes.

"You can do this, and you will. As is your duty to your house and the realm, storms don't bend they don't bow. They persevere"

You leap into Royce's arms "please Royce please don't make me do this"

"It is done, sister, you will be fine. You will be queen, and you will make the realm better for it"

He stays with you for a while gently rocking you while your breathing returns to normal.

"You're right. I can do this. He is but at man at the end of it all"

Royce just smiles at you. "Now I will send the chamber maids back in. Can't have you married in a chemise." He chuckles.

He takes your hand and helps you back up on the pedestal. You step into the dress as he leaves the room and quickly the maids return, and this time, the dress slips on. The corset tightened. The sleeves puffed. The skirts fluffed.

A beautiful sapphire necklace is placed on your chest, and the baratheon maidens cloak is placed upon your shoulders.

The maids leave the room as you stare at yourself in the long mirror.

Who is this woman? Certainly, isn't me. You run your fingers over the sapphire that sits on your chest. Such an odd choice. You would have thought of a ruby or even an emerald.

When the dowager queen enters to do a final check and approval of your appearance, you don't feel as scared or nervous as you did at the start of this day.

This is my duty, and I will complete my duty with dignity and poise.

You are then led through the corridors of the castle. A few maids accompany you. One holding your train the other your hand to keep you steady on your feet as you enter the courtyard.

There in the courtyard stands Royce in some of his finest clothes next to a carriage with the door open. The carriage that will bring you to the Sept. Your last carriage ride as an unwed maiden.

You take a deep breath and walk towards Royce head held high. As he takes your hand and helps you into the carriage. He then follows you in and closes the door behind you.

"You ready?" He asks

"Actually,... I think I am"

Part 4

To be added to taglist click here

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 30

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

TW: death, murder, sexual assault, assault in general.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty: Blood and Cheese II

The Dragons descended into Westeros with avarice, and with avarice their dynasty continues onwards. Blood against blood, dragons against dragons. The Targaryens have conquered the six-kingdoms, yet their their biggest enemy is themselves.

Alyssa, the princess was always drawn to the ocean. She liked the feel of the waves on her knees, the rough sand on her barefoot. She holds her son, Aelor, close to her bosom. "Where could your father have trailed off to?" she mused, staring deep into her son's eyes.

Aemond days ago.

Alicent would not provide her a clear answer.

Cordelia peeks through the small curtain that hid Alyssa's body. "The Queen calls for you, princess." she bowed. Alyssa's eyebrows merged into each other. "It is far too early in the morning for conversation," she smiled, hoping to dismiss the handmaiden.

"I-I, well the Queen was very firm. It would be best to follow her, princess." the handmaiden stuttered, knowing something that her lady did not. A creature of doubt builds inside of her ribcage. Alyssa was no stranger to war.

Her real father, Daemon Targaryen, fought thousands of them before she was whelped into the world. "Is it important?" her frown deepened and the handmaiden nods. "Very well, prepare my gown and take good care of Prince Aelor." she commanded while rising to her feet.

A dragon does not cower behind the four walls of her bedroom. She fights all her battles, the same.

Alyssa takes a step forward, entering the threshold of her good-mother's bedroom. There were pastries scattered on the table, a warm cup of tea waiting for her.

"Your grace." she curtsied, then licking her chapped lips. "Alyssa, how kind of you to join me." Alicent smiled with a knowing stare. There was something behind those brown irises that unnerved her. "Have you seen Prince Aemond?" she inquired with a cautious tone.

"Your grandfather is dead and the soldiers march for war against Rhaenyra." Alicent says frankly, no longer interested in sugar-coating her words. A gasp escapes her mouth. King Viserys was dead? "I have sent my son away to make negotiations with House Baratheon." she adds, her eyes filled with much more sorrow than usual.

Alyssa tries to calm herself down, but her heart was filled with anger.

"You thought it would be fit to usurp the rightful Queen?" she questioned, still trying to keep her tone soft.

"King Viserys told me before he died, that he changed his mind."

"- thought that Aegon was deserving of his titles." Alicent lied.

Alyssa clenches her fists. "- but that isn't the truth, isn't it?" she argued, wanting nothing more than to jump into the arms of her beloved husband. If Aemond was beside her, she'd convince him - they'd defect and crown the rightful Queen.

"You need not lie to me. If I had been in your shoes, I would've done the very same. It is not everyday that a woman's son becomes King - but even the blind could see that Prince Aegon is not a worthy heir." she presented clear, and offense strikes the Queen Mother's face.

"He is greater than his father. He listens to his advisors." Alicent grits her teeth, unamused at Alyssa's defiance. "- and I assume that you believe yourself to be his advisor." she antagonized. "You were the King's advisor too, but that did not save you. My Queen, I apologize for my brashness, but you do not wish to be free, you merely wish to create a window of your prison." Alyssa scoffed.

Queen Alicent was about to respond, but a knock halts their argument. Her uncle, Lord Larys Strong, marches inside of the chambers. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." he curtsies, quickly sashaying to Alicent's side.

He leans forward, whispering a few strings of words, but the premise was clear enough for Alyssa.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon was dead, and Aemond had been the one to butcher him.

Saera takes a deep breath, in fear of what Rhaenyra was capable of. "One cannot even imagine the pain she's feeling right now, I fear that she'll do something. She'll want to get even." the White Princess breathes, playing with the bracelet on her wrist.

"- that means that Alyssa and Aelor are in danger?" Daegon inquires, his eyebrows merging into each other. He couldn't bare the thought of harm coming to his twin sister.

Daemon presses his fingers to his lips.

"Rhaenyra will not harm them. We are her strongest allies, losing us could mean losing the war." he gave his informed opinion. "- still, you are right, love. Alyssa and Aelor will not be safe in Kingslanding."

"We are caught in a limbo, then?" her eyes narrowed. "We must get our daughter back, yet we are stuck here - and the mere sound of our arrival could mean death." she takes a sip of her wine.

She was trying to keep up her stone-cold facade, so that her son wouldn't be rattled, but all she wanted to do was cry. Her mind couldn't help but drift off to Alyssa. She must be scared.

Daemon places a tender hand on her shoulder, already aware of the inner workings of her mind. He gives her stare, promising her that everything would be fine in the end. "I have spies in Kingslanding. I'll attempt to have Alyssa back - Aelor, I believe will be safer there."

"We shouldn't involve ourselves in this war, muña. It is between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon. Let us flee to the Free Cities, take everyone and never return." Daegon suggests.

Daemon glares at his son.

"Dragons do not run with their tails in between their legs. We fight our battles, and Rhaenyra's battle is our own. The same blood flows through our veins." he corrected, wholly understanding of his son's cowardice. "Viserra and Daelon are children, in times of war, horrible things happen to children." Daegon defends.

"But we are here, all of us to protect them. A house united, is a house unbreakable." Saera breathed, and only then did Daegon's eyes softened. "- and when war is over, the dragon feeds."

Aelor's face was soft - almost the same visage as his grandmother. There was a smile on his face, oblivious of the torment that was to ensue, Ser Criston takes a seat beside Alyssa. "He is safe, but not for long." he whispered, so only Alyssa could hear his opinion. "He is guarded by four walls, and a dozen guards. Surely Princess Rhaenyra will not harm us? Not Aelor?" Alyssa frowns, the knight shakes his head. "She may not harm you, but she will harm Prince Aemond's son. She will seek revenge." he scowled.

Alyssa couldn't do anything but blame her husband - her good-mother, and everyone involved in supplanting Princess Rhaenyra. "Then you must make it your personal goal to protect Prince Aelor." she pleaded, staring deep into his honeyed eyes.

"I shall do my best, but it is not a guarantee." Criston bows.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, staring at the men in front of her. “Mysaria mustn’t know of this,” she asserted - knowing that the whore was on her sister’s side. “- I want you to execute Prince Aelor.” she commanded, dropping a few gold coins on the table. 

“It will be done, my lady.” the older man replies with a smirk. 

“What’s your name again?” She raised her eyebrows. 

“My name’s Blood.” 

“And I’m Cheese.”

Saera wasn't one to wait for the proper timing. She had her mind set on one goal, and she'd exert all of her efforts into getting it.

"Lady Mysaria, what are you doing here?" Alyssa frowns, holding Aelor close to her chest once more. "There is a clear passage back to Dragonstone, your mother intends for you back within a fortnight." Mysaria informs, taking a step forward.

"What about Bluefyre? Aemond? Aelor?" Alyssa asks.

"You may take Aelor, but the dragon and your husband must remain." Mysaria made a decision of her own. "I cannot leave without them." Alyssa says clearly, hoping to provide salvation for the ones to be left behind. "You forget that it was your husband who betrayed you first." Mysaria articulated, her voice suddenly becoming cold.

Alyssa's heart breaks, recognizing that the woman wasn't lying. "He murdered a child, your cousin." Mysaria attempts to sway the Princess. "- I have not spoken to him since before that night. I'm sure that if we were to have a conversation, things would be clearer." Alyssa defended, it was her right and oath.

When she vowed to marry the One-Eyed Prince, she also vowed to be understanding, to always present alibis when it came to him, and to always be loyal, even when the circumstance proved to be difficult. "I wish that it was that easy, but we do not have much time. We cannot leave right now, but tomorrow - use the secret passages that your uncle taught you. Meet me in Princess Saera's solars, and we shall leave for Dragonstone."

Princess Alyssa couldn't sleep. Her heart was beating rapidly, threatening to come out of her chest. She was tossing and turning, unable to find even a blink of rest. Today, she was a spoil of war - a prisoner in her own home, but tomorrow, mayhaps, she'll be free.

Why must it all come down to this? A year of marriage with her much beloved husband was turning into another tragic tale. Alyssa wished nothing more than to be free of the narrative, to live somewhere where these - things couldn't come near her family.

An object falls loudly on the floor, Alyssa reaches for the dagger underneath her pillow. "Aemond?" she cleared her throat, "Princess," a gruff voice replies, and another man steps into the light. It was not her husband - it was a different man.

He was broad and tall, he had a stubble on his chin. "Who are you?" she pointed the dagger at him. "I'm Blood, and my brother is Cheese. We were sent here to murder your son." he says casually.

"Not him," she shielded her son away from their view. Aelor, was unfortunate enough to be laying beside her on the bed, instead of his own room with the handmaidens. Blood and Cheese must've known, but who could've sent them?

"A son for a son," Blood grins.

A chill ran down her spine.

Princess Rhaenyra?

"What did she pay you, I shall double it?" Alyssa pleaded, vulnerable in her thin nightgown, her body almost bare to the eyes of the intruders. It made her feel dirty, tainted almost.

"Gold does little to deter us, Alyssa." Blood takes a step forward, only a few inches away from her. "Then you'll have to go through me." Alyssa bravely defends. "That will not be hard."

She stands up from the bed, remembering all her lessons with Prince Daemon. Even when she's standing on the bed, her head barely reaches Blood and Cheese's forehead. He tries to move his hand forward, but Alyssa manages to sever his little finger.

"Cunt," Blood mumbled, anger pumping through his veins. He raises his free hand, slapping Alyssa across the face, sending her on her knees. "You are still a little girl eh'. You can't defeat me." he antagonized, commanding his brother to pull her back.

Cheese carries her with ease, dragging her on the floor. "Please I beg of you, if Prince Daemon or my mother finds out about this - no god shall save you." she cursed at them, fighting through Cheese's malevolent hold. "Take me instead, please!" she screamed, in shock that no one has heard yet.

"Do whatever you want with me, but not my son." she cried.

Cheese chuckles, pressing her back to his chest. "Whoring yourself out to us? Desperate." he teased, and Aelor cries loudly.

Blood carries Aelor by the neck, muffling his cries of agony. "Maybe when we're done with this little runt, we'll fuck a bastard inside of you." he chuckled, opening a window and threatening to let go of Aelor. Tears began to flow harder from her eyes, Valyrian whispers of revenge, until Blood lets go.

And her son falls to his death.

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[sapphire-writes]

Wildest Dreams ~ Aemond x Wife!reader

request: an arranged marriage between yn and Aemond, where he has married her to win the favor of her house, but the war is on and he meets Alys and yn hears the rumors and when she hears Aemond talking about Alys with Alicent she understands that she is not a simple lover, she talks about it with Aemond and he has a certain affection for her so he tells her to have adventures if she wants to and she is heartbroken, but she does not take the offer, but Aemond thinks that eventually he will and continues with Alys until at a ball he sees yn talking to a lord of a noble house and is jealous that she eventually took up the offer. Happy or sad ending, you decide, I just want to read how you develop it. Thanks for your work! ~anon word count: 1.8k warning: angst omg, some spicy themes nothing explicit, jealous & possessive Aemond note: I really liked writing this, especially exploring the relationship between the reader and her sworn protector 🫣 you can read more of my work here 💚

My lady, my Alys.

That name haunts you. It slithers through the halls of the Red Keep. It lives in the pitying eyes of those who look upon you, the forgotten spouse of Aemond Targaryen. His wife. His princess. What a horrid sham it was now. 

You knew Aemond to be a man of duty, you knew this when you married him. Though you hoped his affection for you would grow with time, you had never expected him to stray outside the marriage. He simply did not seem the type of man to do such a thing.

Until the war. Until Alys Rivers. 

You knew the people of court were aware of the affair your husband was having with the so-called witch queen of Harrenhal. 

It only became more apparent when he returned to court on Vhagar’s back, with his paramour securely against his back. Though you haven't seen your husband in months, as soon as you spotted her with him, you excused yourself from the celebrations around his return. 

You ran to your chambers and hurriedly pushed by your sworn protector Ser Cassian who stood outside your door. 

“My lady?” he asked, with a concerned look on his face as you made your way inside. 

He noted the tears on your face. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door handle, preparing to close it as he heard your sobs from within. Instead, he released the handle, stepping inside your chambers. 

“It pains me to see such a lovely lady crying,” Ser Cassian says as you face away from him. 

“Yes well then I would advise you to avert your eyes,” you snap, bitterly.

Ser Cassian does not heed your advice, he simply stands in the doorway. You feel guilt begin to curl its way into your stomach, under your skin. You turn your head to him.

“You must forgive me, Ser,” you begin, keeping your gaze low, “that was unkind.”

Ser Cassian moves to close the door, and you hear his heavy footsteps make their way over to you. 

You turn completely to face the knight, who now offers you a piece of cloth. Shame rolls through you at his act of kindness, as you offer him a small smile dabbing at the wetness that pools beneath your eyes. 

“There is no need for apologies, my lady,” he tells you. 

“Then you are too kind a man,” you tell him, eyes glassy with tears.

“I only wish for your protection and happiness, my lady,” he tells you, as you hand him back his handkerchief. 

You confront Aemond later on, in the privacy of his chambers. 

“Now you bring her to court to humiliate me further,” you accuse, blood running hot with anger. 

Aemond rubs the scarred skin above his eyepatch. 

“I’ve no wish to humiliate you, dear wife,” he assures you. 

“Then why?” you demand, “why parade her at court, in front of all these people?”

Aemond stands still, his mouth a tight line. He refuses to answer you, causing you to scoff. 

“I understand you love her?” you ask your husband, unable to meet his eyes. 

There is a moment of silence between you, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

“I do,” he says firmly, confidently.

You did not know your heart could break more than it already has. 

“I wish for you to be happy,” Aemond says, coming closer to you, “I am still your husband, I shall give you children to love and cherish.”

You make an offended noise at his words, cheeks heating up. How romantic a notion, being your husband’s broodmare. 

“You may do as you like,” Aemond assures you, “as long as you bear only my trueborn children, take pleasure in whatever you wish.”

You look at him, not believing the words he speaks.

“You do not mean that,” you tell him. 

The man you married may not have loved you right away, but there was a possessive nature about him beneath the surface of his cold exterior. 

“I do,” he tells you. 

“I have no wish for anything else. For anyone else,” you tell him.

“You shall, in time,” he assures you, “you have been lonely too long.”

“You think a lover would fix that?” you snap at him.

Aemond does not answer, he simply leaves the room to go to her. 

You spend a long time in the gardens, finding solace in the flowers, bathed in moonlight. The air grows cold around you but you would rather be out here than in the castle. You swear you can hear their pants and moans from your chambers. Your husband is taking another woman. Over, and over again. 

“You should be inside, my lady,” Ser Cassian tells you, watching as your teeth chatter in the cool night air. 

He removes the cloak from his back, placing the gold cloak across your shoulders. Your shoulders drop at the weight of it. 

“Allow me to escort you inside,” Cassian murmurs, hands lingering on your shoulders. 

You meet his gaze, nodding. 

You summon Ser Cassian to your chambers the following night, hearing his knuckles rap against the wood of your door just as you exit the bath. Your lady’s maid holds a dressing gown for you to step into, covering your wet, naked form. 

“My lady,” he says, clearly flustered by your state, the dressing gown barely covering your slick body. 

“Leave us,” you tell your lady who nervously scampers towards the door, shutting it behind her. 

Your hair is damp, sending rivers of bathwater down your neck, traveling through the valley of your breasts. 

“I can return when you are decent,” he manages to choke out.

“There is no need,” you assure him, “I am quite comfortable in your presence.”

Ser Cassian does not know where to look, he does not wish to offend you but is finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

“You once told me you wished for my happiness and protection,” you told him, “the latter is true. How are you supposed to assure the other?”

Cassian blinks slowly, eyes focused on your lips as you speak those words, the shimmering of water that rests on your upper lip. You look as though you are a river nymph who has come to seduce him to a watery grave. 

You begin to walk towards him, hands fiddling with the straps that tie your dressing gown securely around your waist. 

“I shall do whatever my lady commands,” Cassian says, eyes cast toward the floor. 

“I do not wish to command,” you say softly, “I wish to offer.”

Cassian meets your eyes then. He is very handsome, with dark brown eyes that match his curly locks. 

“You need not offer anything, my lady,” he assures you. 

“I want to,” you tell him. 

“If you do not wish this, that is fine,” you tell him, “I only ask you to leave and forget this conversation and we shall go about as we once were. Though I shall admit, I will feel rather foolish.”

Cassian watches the blush bloom across your cheeks. 

“Otherwise, you need only take my hand.”

You stretch your arm out toward him and for a moment he does not move. For a moment, your breath catches in your throat and you are sure he shall turn on his heel and leave your chambers. Then you shall be left alone once more. 

But he does not.

Instead, he places his rough hand in yours and allows you to guide him toward your bed, replacing your dressing robe with his lips, his tongue, and his hands. 

You have been happier as of late. Aemond has taken notice. You walk with a skip in your step, a flush on your cheeks. 

The maester has been said to visit your chambers weekly with a special brew. 

Aemond knows you have taken a lover. The knowledge curls in his stomach like a hissing snake, though he attempts to deny it. How hypocritical is he, to deny his wife happiness when he has found his own in another woman’s bed?

It isn’t until Maelor's name day celebration does he realize how furious your endeavors make him; the fire it ignites beneath your skin. 

The feast is a grand affair with singing and dancing, and several lords and ladies visiting from across the seven kingdoms. 

Aemond and you arrive together, but you quickly let go of his arm and make your way into the crowd. 

Alys is not present, as Alicent will not allow it. A paramour at court is scandalous in itself, she will not subject you to feast with her. 

Aemond keeps his eye on you, as you begin to dance. He watches the dreamlike look on your face, the way your cheeks redden and you cast your smile toward the floor as someone joins you.

He is a goldcloak, and Aemond recognizes him. The knight smiles down at you, entrapping you in a dance. Your smile widens as he whispers something to you, and your cheeks darken. Aemond feels a fire in his belly as he watches you dance with the knight, a strange sense of possessiveness flooding through him. 

Aemond moves through the dance quickly coming to your side. His hand finds yours dragging you toward the center of the dance floor. You struggle to keep up with his demanding pace, your wrist stinging from how tightly he holds you. 

The dance continues around you, people hardly noticing Aemond’s predatory circling of you.

“Is that who you desire?” he asks, voice low.

Your furrow your brow, a confused expression on your face.

“Is he whom you invited into your bed?” Aemond growls. 

“I did not think it mattered to you,” you quip back, anger evident in your tone.

“You choose a whoremonger for a paramour,” Aemond says sneering, trying to bait you. 

“And you a witch woman,” you snap, causing Aemond’s face to darken, “who I choose to spend my time with is of no concern to you.”

Aemond growls at this, an animalistic noise that comes from deep within his chest, that causes you to back up slightly. 

“You cannot have it both ways,” you tell him, noting his genuine anger. 

Aemond is breathing heavily, looking down at you, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“You cannot have me, and her,” you continue feeling brave.

Aemond juts his chin out. 

“What makes you think I shall allow you to keep him?” he says referring to Ser Cassian.

You smirk then, stepping closer to him. 

“I shall just find someone else,” you tell him bitterly.

Aemond snaps forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you flush against him. The action sends a wave of warmth into your lower belly. You know you should be terrified, you should try to run screaming. But you do not. And when he brings his mouth to yours, you kiss him back.

When he leads you to your chambers, you let him.

When he roughly tears your dress from your body, you assist him. 

When he makes passionate love to you, nipping and biting your smooth flesh, you allow him to.

Aemond stays with you that night. 

Alys Rivers vanishes from the Red Keep before the sun rises. 

note: ooof im sweating 🥵

[babyblue711]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Alys Rivers - Part 1 Summary: Alys reflects on her time at Harrenhal under the reign of the Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen. Words: 2.6K

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Dubcon, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, War Things, Typical Westeros Misogyny A/N: I fully realize not everyone is an Alys fan and that is perfectly fine. Perhaps once the show airs, I'll change my opinion too. But, as of right now, this is fanfiction and, therefore, my fantasy. I personally tried to humanize Alys, which I hope you all will see. As always, I love reading your thoughts, comments, and reblogs! 😘 And - No tag list since I don't know who will be in to Alysmond. 💙 Beta read by the Queen herself: @arcielee 💙 Beautiful banner gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts

The prince was insatiable at times.

Sometimes he was gentle, sometimes rough. Though she never knew what she was going to get, the news from the battlefront and the state of affairs of the kingdom often foretold the sort of night she could expect from the Prince Regent.

With the weight of the green faction firmly resting on his shoulders, periodically he would be consumed by raw desire; he was fueled by passion, fueled by rage, fueled by an innate need to dominate and control, as certainty was a rare commodity given the unpredictable nature of war. On those nights, his touch was borderline cruel, harsh and demanding, and she would brace herself, anticipating the forcefulness with which he would claim her, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain as their bodies collided. She didn’t know how to tell him ‘no’. She didn’t think she could. She needed him just as much as he needed her… or so she was leading him to believe. 

But at other times, he would approach her with a soft touch, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along her skin, his words filled with warmth, just like the first night they spent together. Those were the nights when she had felt cherished and safe, enveloped in his affection and care. She couldn’t ever remember a time where any man of higher standing had ever worshiped her in such a tender way. 

Presently confined within the ominous black walls of Harrenhal, tonight she is suffering the prince’s wrath. The recent tidings are dire: Kings Landing has fallen into the hands of the enemy, igniting the red hot rage of the dragon. She knows Aemond feels solely responsible for this significant blow to their cause, for leaving his family unprotected as he seeks out his greatest foe, terrified of what is happening to those he has left behind. Tonight, he uses their intimacy as a conduit for his pent-up emotions, unleashing his fury upon her in a desperate attempt to find temporary respite from the anarchy gripping the Seven Kingdoms and the chaos of his own soul.

In the dimly lit chamber, the air is heavy with tension and the scent of burning candles. Pinned to the bed underneath him, his long fingered hand is wrapped firmly around her throat as he thrusts powerfully, hips snapping into her with a brutal force, a look of utter madness in his lone purple eye. His grip tightens on her throat as his unhinged gaze flicks from her bouncing breasts up to her face. 

“Why couldn’t you have told me about this before?” he demands with a harsh growl that echoes off the stone walls, his fingers digging into the delicate skin of her throat so that she can barely breathe, let alone articulate an answer. She chokes slightly, wrapping a dainty hand around his wrist, begging with her eyes for him to soften his grip, which mercifully he does so she can speak.

“My prince,” she gasps as he continues to rut into her, “My visions do not work on command…” She attempts to explain but anger clouds his face and his grip tightens once more on her throat, cutting off any further speech. The Prince Regent does not want to hear her excuses. His desperation and anger is evident in every movement, in every harsh word, in every mark he leaves upon her body. She clenches her jaw and tries not to whimper as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her neck and breasts, afraid weakness will spur him on further; mentally, she tries to disassociate from what is currently happening to her. She is fully aware that he sees her as a means to an end, a tool to gain an advantage in the chaos of war; she purposefully has supplanted herself in this position, just as he is her mechanism for survival in return.

She knows deep down that she cannot fulfill his demands; her gifted visions do not bend to her whim or will, and she cannot control what they show her. To admit this to him would mean certain death, and so she bears the pain of his grip, the forcefulness of his thrusts, and the weight of his expectations, all while concealing the truth that she cannot deliver what he seeks.

With a guttural groan, his hips stutter as he spills deep inside of her, his fearsome eye closed in some semblance of bliss as he reaches his peak. Without acknowledging any need for her pleasure, he tucks himself back in his pants and departs the room in silence, his rage barely satiated. 

Alys lays upon the bed, her chest rising and falling to catch the breath withheld from her while caught in Aemond’s iron grip. She shifts slightly into a more comfortable position, feeling the slickness between her thighs and, despite his brutality, she quietly hopes for a silver-haired babe, further securing her own position and a testament to her worth.

She wonders if Aemond does not think she is capable of having children and, therefore, is much less cautious where he spills his seed. Her moon’s blood is late, but that is not unusual for her, though she still thinks it is too early to tell if they have been successful yet. She rests a hand on her lower belly, willing her womb to quicken, something that hasn’t happened in years. 

Exhaustion tugs at the corners of her eyes as she rests, waiting for her soreness and aches to lessen so she may get a few hours sleep. Sighing deeply, she stares into the dying flames of the fire in the hearth and reflects on the last few months of being caught up in this accursed Targaryen civil war. Life with Aemond is, at least, a little better than when Daemon ruled these halls. The Rogue Prince had been a formidable presence, his sharp eyes saw through her facade of obedience from the moment he landed astride his fiery red dragon. She had never underestimated him, knowing that he would not be easy prey to be fooled by her own ambitions.  

But when Aemond descended from the heavens upon his colossal, ancient dragon, Alys suspected the young Prince Regent to be a lot more volatile, and thus, a little more vulnerable than his formidable uncle. Aemond was desperate to prove himself in the ongoing war, his ego inflated by the fact that he commanded the largest dragon in existence. His mere presence struck fear into the hearts of warriors, who readily bowed before him as he issued commands with an air of undeniable authority. Yet, beneath his bravado, Alys discerned a deep-seated fear—that of failing his family and being perceived as a disappointment.

Recognizing these traits, she decided to try to leverage this to her advantage. She harbored no ill will toward the prince; in fact, she had developed a fondness for the young man during his stay at the fortress. But she knew that sentimentality had no place in the games of power and politics that defined their lives; the world was cruel, especially to lowborn women, and no one in her position would turn down such an opportunity to wield the influence that came with being entwined with a Targaryen Prince. 

It still took considerable effort to gain Aemond's trust, considering his sharp intellect and initial tendency to see her as nothing more than a lowborn woman with limited utility. However, upon learning that she had some experience with the healing arts, he tasked her with tending to the injuries of his soldiers, which she executed without fail. 

It was one fateful night that the prince called upon her for help with his own affliction - the vicious scar that marred the left side of his beautiful face. She concocted a poultice aimed at soothing the damaged nerves around his missing eye that was causing him some discomfort that particular night. Witnessing the visible relief on his face once she had applied it, and taking advantage of being alone with the prince for the first time, she seized the opportunity to subtly offer strategic information, mainly concerning Daemon's previous tenure at Harrenhal. Aware of Aemond's desperation for any advantage in the ongoing war, especially for any knowledge that had to do with his uncle, Aemond clung to anything she could tell him about Daemon and his war strategy. She was aware of just enough information to be deemed useful and what she wasn’t aware of, she may have elaborated just a bit, as the prince would never know. This gesture swiftly elevated her status in his eyes, securing her a place in his inner circle sooner than she had even anticipated. 

But it wasn’t only Aemond she had to charm; she also understood the importance of gaining favor with Ser Criston Cole, the Hand of the King and Aemond's second in command. Although she suspected that Ser Criston could occasionally see through her intentions, she had a knack for manipulating him too.

Late one evening, after he had a few too many cups of wine, she prophesied his future, whispering words that she knew would resonate with him as they gazed into the flames of the fire. Men in positions of power and influence loved to be told exactly what they wanted to hear and Ser Criston was no exception. Soon, both he and Aemond would come to depend on her clairvoyance much more than either should, but war often strove men to desperate measures and she delicately played this hand when she had no other choice.

Another aspect she did not expect to contest came a few weeks after Aemond and his army came to stay at Harrenhal. It was Aemond who turned their relationship into something more physical; whether it was brought on by boredom or loneliness, she’ll likely never know, but she certainly had not anticipated becoming the Prince Regent’s bedmate. She remembered the night well, the way his fingertips grazed her wrist lightly as she poured him more wine. The intense look of his eye was…different that night, a primal look of longing coupled with a smoldering desire. The bulge in his pants was obvious and it was clear what was intended from her that night.

Worried to displease the prince by refusing him, she settled on her knees in front of him as he sat by the fire. She held his gaze as she slowly unlaced his breeches, pulling his thick, veiny cock from the confines of his trousers, and began pleasuring him with her mouth. Wetness had formed between her own thighs as she sucked him with abandon, enjoying the way his sharp face contorted with the gratification she was giving him. When he shot his seed down her throat, she expected that to be the end of it… until he asked her to show him how to pleasure her in return.

She could perfectly recall the earnest look in his eye as she stared at him with bewilderment; it was highly unusual for a man to be concerned with a woman’s pleasure, let alone a high-born royal like himself. After a moment’s hesitation, she willingly agreed to his request and they spent the night exploring each other’s bodies; she taught the prince about the bundle of nerves located above her entrance and the special spot buried deep inside her cunt. He was an excellent student, mastering her body quicker than she thought possible. His expression was hungry with intensity when he watched her unravel underneath him as she succumbed to his touch, and she knew this gave him a different sense of power over her body. She encouraged this, fully committing to being the prince’s loyal servant in all things, further gaining his trust and, in return, his protection. 

She lost count how many times she came that night during their passionate lovemaking, and her hopes ignited further when he shot his seed deep into her cunt. Since then, he had called upon her almost every night to visit his bed, torturing her deliciously as her velvet walls clenched around him repeatedly, milking him dry as her cries of ecstasy filled his room. Afterwards, she would pray to the gods to bless her with his child.

However, she was beginning to wonder if she had played her part just a little too well. Unfortunately, the prince, gaining confidence in their arrangement, had started to abuse his position of power, more often than not just using her body as a vessel for only his pleasure. Her disappointment was palpable; he had shown so much promise and she thought she could teach him to be different, that he would continue to treat her with respect.

But such wishes were not to be, as dark thoughts of the first time she had suffered the prince’s wrath resurfaced. On that fateful night, after a particularly fearsome thunderstorm culminating with bad news of the war beyond Harrenhal, Aemond and Vhagar had descended from the storm-stricken sky in a fury, his dragon’s wings clapping louder than the thunder itself. As was customary, she was summoned to his chambers. Lightning flashed as she entered his dimly lit room, illuminating his countenance —a hauntingly beautiful sight. But as she caught sight of his murderous expression, dread filled her gut and she knew she was about to face the consequences for whatever misfortune had transpired.

Afterwards, he seemed to emerge from a trance, apologizing to her as he gazed upon the red marks from his fingers on her neck, the bite marks on her breasts, the bruises that littered her body. She was dumbstruck once more, never had a man shown remorse for hurting her before. As their tryst continued, their passionate lovemaking became rougher and more animalistic, her own pleasure forgotten at times as he used her body as a means to his own end, but she made the best of it, knowing that to bear his child would outweigh her suffering and reward her tenfold. 

Back in the room, these memories of Aemond lulled her to sleep as she curled in his bed, warm and comfortable from the smolder in the hearth. The reprieve was short lived as she was roughly shaken awake, startling at his harsh touch.

“Wake up,” Aemond says gruffly. “We’re leaving.” He refuses to answer any of her questions, throwing clothes at her and telling her to get dressed in a hurry. She has no choice but to obey, noticing he has given her breeches to pull on as well as several warm layers, including riding boots and soft leather gloves. 

The moon shines brightly in the nighttime sky as Aemond takes her by the hand, leading her outside the gates of Harrenhal where the immense form of Vhagar looms in the distance. Alys pulls back on Aemond’s arm, terrified, slowing her pace, her unusual attire dawning on her as it is obvious that the prince means for her to fly on Vhagar. The energy that emanates from the massive dragon is unlike anything she has ever felt before. This was an intelligent being that could not be tricked by pretty words or prophetic visions that danced in the flames, for she was fire incarnate herself.

Feeling her tug on his arm, Aemond whirls to face her, impatient, furious. Vhagar rumbles like thunder from behind him, disturbed by her rider’s erratic energy, but makes no effort to move as she waits for him to mount her. 

“Aemond…” Alys starts to sputter, “I - I don’t think she’ll let me ride...?” Terror clutches at her throat as she tries to stress to him the dire warning in the pit of her stomach, but he only smirks, taking hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his breath fanning her face. 

“Vhagar does as I command,” he says confidently as if this could assuage her fear, “but I am going to need your help with something else.”

>>>> Part 2

[turtle-paced]

sorry for the subject matter but am I reading cerseis chapters wrong? Did Robert marry her and then immediately straight after wedding begin r-wording her and hitting her? Or was it he upset her during consummation, begun cheating on and ignoring her, then publicly shaming and neglecting her, then she naturally withdrew and revenge cheating with Jaime on greenstone six/seven months after wedding, then Robert begun r-wording her, then he begun the other physical and mental abuse? Again sorry for the subject matter I don’t know which way I’m suppose to read it

This is tumblr, not insta or whatever, and it's okay to type out the full word: rape. Since the site's not filtering it automatically I'd actually encourage you to use the uncensored word so that people can filter it accurately according to their own needs. Give the choice and the power to others, reduce the chances of an unpleasant accident from using a euphemism that someone hasn't put on their blacklisted tags.

I also write about ASoIaF. There's no need to apologise for asking me questions about the disturbing or upsetting content in the books!

Putting the answer to your question under a cut for the content, though.

The timelines aren't crystal clear. Robert was a shitty sexual partner to Cersei even on their wedding night. Given who we're talking about here, it seems unlikely the two had an honest talk about what went wrong and how they planned to deal with it in future once Robert had sobered up. While Robert made attempts to emotionally engage with Cersei at the start of their marriage, that consisted of "things he'd find fun" rather than "address Cersei's valid issues." Valid issues like the fact that he's raping Cersei regularly. Per Cersei VII AFFC, early in their marriage he was raping her at least once every two weeks. I seriously doubt he asked her.

As time went on, Robert found even those paltry efforts to deal with Cersei too much. The public cheating cranked up, the rapes became less frequent. I suspect also that this is where the physical abuse started. Personally, I think the rationale behind Robert's repeated rapes changed over time. The early rapes I suspect were Robert being horny and selfish and entitled; the later ones, the infrequent ones, I think were Robert's expression of his sheer hatred for his wife and his desire to 'put her in her place'.

Throughout this, Cersei is presumably continuing at least an emotional affair with her brother, even if the physical side was dialed down a bit initially (most likely due to scrutiny of a young queen who hadn't produced an heir for the king yet). Her relationship with Jaime is obviously a longer-standing thing. I've written before that I think Cersei initiates particular sexual encounters with Jaime over her anger with Robert's violations and abuse, while she continues the affair with her twin due to deeper-seated, non-Robert-related issues.

The timelines and progression aren't clear here not just because GRRM is bad at timelines. None of the characters have the language to describe spousal abuse or their need for consent. We're left with the vibes, the impression of selfishness and power taking Robert from a jerk to a monster.

[misguidedasgardian]

Dragon's Mistress FINALE

MASTERLIST

Summary: Everything is coming to an end 

Warnings: cursing, mentions of war, mentions of death, humiliation, use of the word bastard and traitor, incest, childbirth, sickness, deaths of multiple characters, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount:  3 k

Notes: THIS IS IT PEOPLE! I’m wrapping this up, thank you all for being in this wild ride, it has been the most controversial piece I’ve ever written! jaja I fear that whatever I write next is not going to wake the same amount of sentiments jeje anyways, enjoy!

I really hope I can make it all justice jeje

Aemond often looked over at Blackwater bay, in the direction of Dragonstone and wondered how you were, what you were doing, if you were content.

He wanted to believe you weren’t, but deep inside of him he knew you were happy and content without him.

He also wanted to feel the baby moving within you

You only let him touch you when you were sleepy in his arms, and the dragonling restless in your belly, moving so much he was able to actually see him

It was a boy, he was certain, it was his heir

And he couldn’t wait to see him, for him to be born, he was going to dispose of Floris, send her away, he was going to keep his child.

He couldn't wait to sit the throne with his baby on his arms, to show the entire realm, his power and legacy

And he wanted to see his beautiful wife, be there by her side when she gave birth

But affairs of the realm kept him, from fulfilling his desire

Even if he had been acting as Prince Regent for years, now that he was actually King, things were incredibly different, now he was bothered with small and big affairs alike, the Kingdoms was settling after years and years of war

After losing half the treasury

People was growing restless, smallfolk who still support her half-sister the usurper, denied the increase in taxes and were not taking well to his own reign, even though he had reigned with a a hard for forgiving hand

But the way to hell was made with good intentions

And he meant well

Days after you left turned to weeks, and then to a coupe of months, and one day, he knew it, the day felt different from the others, an strange calmness to it, the birds had stopped singing and the sea was calm like a cup of wine

He only smiled faintly, looking out his balcony, he then retrieved himself to return to his Kingly duties for the day

A day after he received the raven

His Queen gave birth…

To a healthy baby girl

He frown upon hearing the news, dismissing the maester to keep with his duties of the day 

He wanted to see you, be there by your side

And when he was finally ready, he received other news

There has been a big fire in Harrenhal, ending the life of Lords loyal to his reign, and the one of Alys Rivers herself

Alys was dead 

In a rage, he called his master of whispers, the same one who had caused the fire that ended the life of his own father and brother

He didn’t want to believe what Corlys had insinuated, that Floris and Larrys were on it together to get rid of you, but now this?

He knew perfectly well that a palace like Harrenhal, with nothing to burn itself, only burned for the whims of men and not of those of ghosts

And when Larys Strong refused him an answer, that he didn’t know

Aemond didn’t believe him

The second most powerful men after him was against him, so he needed to get rid of him, the power Larys held with whispers and spies, it was too much to have against him 

But everything that he wanted to do, it was clouded by you

By his need to see you, but everytime he decided to go climb on hagar and travel to you

Something held him back

Something kept him away from you

Corlys front he shadows no doubt, not that he noticed 

Floris was held prisoner in her own room, still getting royal treatment because of the babe within her, but she was forbidden to interact with anyone…

And perhaps that is what spared her

When he decided to take to the skies in VHagar to go and see you… there had been a almost seamless interruption, within the chambers of the small council

The maester of laws started coughing

“I’m sorry your grace, I don’t feel well”, the maester took the liberty of placing his boney hand in the man’s forehead

“He is burning”, he whined, concerned

And chaos ensued all over the keep

The envoy from the North had come and with him, he brought the Winter fever

Aemond had never experienced fear like he did in those couple of months

He, as the King, had to remain secluded, fire everywhere around him to keep away the disease that infected the air. 

Seeing you was out of the question, he only received the ravens with tales of how Dragonstone was not accepting anyone from the exterior, and how they had remained spared from the wrath of the gods 

And Floris went into labor, just in time to receive the prince

And Aemond’s commands to the wetnurses were clear

Save the princeling

They shared concerned looks as they received a small, red, dark haired prince into the world 

Floris had a son, and so did Aemond

He held his newborn while sitting on the Iron throne, with a shy smile on his face, pedestals with fires lit up all over the room.

It was a small quiet boy, Aemond noticed, falling asleep immediately in his arms, against his chest

This is not what he expected

But fatherhood knocked on his door and he gladly answered

“The Gods are punishing us”, he raised his head to look at his mother

He had commanded her to stay in the tower of the hand for her own protection, and so far, the Queen had been safe from the fever, until now

Her face was red with temperature, he could see the sweat drops from here

“Mother”

“This is because of you, for marrying two Queens”, she whined, she took shaky steps towards her 

“Stay back”, he whined, having his son in his arms

“I want to see him”, she begged him, she was delusional, he could tell

“You have catched it”, he warned, standing up, ready to ran away from his own mother if needed be 

“The gods are angry with me”, she muttered, that twisted scowl on her face , “I failed them, I try to uphold the traditions, the faith the family, and i failed”

“You didn't”, he tried, to calm her, “You look unwell, I will fetch the maester”

“I don't need the maesters”, she said, and again, tried to come near him

“Don’t!”

“I just want to see him!”, she cried, “my grandson, the only one I have”

He had to call the guards to remove her from his space, he had to

He couldn’t risk himself of his son

Queen Alicent lasted seven days with the Winter fever before she perished, having thrown out all her green dresses, crying for her lost children

The fever also took half his small council, and Queen Floris.

The death of the later is still unknown, some say it was because of the childbed fever, others from the winter fever, and other that it was from neglect 

The last remnants of his past life were gone, he was now more alone than he ever was in his life, the court had been decimated, and he didn’t even knew who to trust

Corlys had fled, because of the scare of the fever, and he was faring well and everyone was on Driftmark and Dragonstone 

He stood alone

His only consolation is that you and his daughter were doing well, and not dying painfully of fever

. . .

You cradled your newborn daughter against your chest as she fed hungrily from you.

You had been so scared, and alone, but everything had gone perfectly, and after hard hours of labor, you heard a loud cry fill the room, besides yours anyways

A little silver haired girl

You shrieked of relief and happiness when the wet nurse placed a rosy-cheeked baby in your chest

She was so small and perfect, and as days passed you learned that she was so quiet, not at all fuzzy, she was a perfect baby, like she already knew she was a little princess

A girl

You giggled to yourself, fuck Aemond, but at the same time you felt fearful, but then you remembered you had Viserys, and Corlys, and the remains of your family to protect you, and you felt even better, everything was going to be alright

At least for your small family core 

You’d learn, by ravens and letters, that the Winter Fever has struck the capital

Civilians were dying by the hundreds, and it had struck the inside of the Keep as well, you received a personal letter from Aemond, expressing his concern for you and your daughter 

But you couldn’t be more relieved

Dragonstone was filled with life, the lords of the crownlands managed to send members of their families to make court in the castle, to be with you, you were getting to know them, and had dinners and interacted with all the ladies and lords, it was life fulfilling, you had never been able to do that before

And you found yourself happy one day

While the capital was submerged in chaos, you were dining in celebration of your beautifully perfect daughter, a princess to the Kingdoms, with your cousins, your grandfather, and all the lords 

You were happy

Or as much as you could

You didn’t even care that Aemond never took the time to visit you, perhaps he was sad you had given birth to a daughter and not a son, perhaps that is why he was keeping his distance.

The you received news

That Floris was dead after giving birth to a son

A Baratheon prince

Despite Corlys’ concern, you had none, you had your brother, your daughter, your dragon who had laid an egg for your child that hatched into a curiously looking pink little dragon

And then one day

Aemond was in Dragonstone

You could feel the court change, as the servants changed the banners of the red dragon for a green one.

The first thing Aemond did was held court and receive his subjects int he throne room, with you by his side, and then, after a long day, he dare to enter your chambers, while you were starting to feed your daughter

“Queens don’t do that, specially for a girl”, he whispered entering the room

“Is my child, and I will feed her from my chest if I chose to”, you said dismissively, he said nothing else, perhaps relieved you were actually responding to him

“Are you healed?”, he asked, you looked at him in wonder

“My King?”, you asked 

“Are you healed from giving birth?”, he asked, and you only looked at him sadly

You had the maids take your daughter away.

He served you wine, to relax you, and you had already surrender, you bathed him, as you offered him, like you used to do, but he grabbed you gently and dragged you inside the tub with you

“I’m so sorry for your losses My King”, you whispered as you massaged him, , straddling him, he only hummed

“I have children now, and nieces”, you can tell he was hurting, but didn’t want to show it, so you let it go. He looked at you with desire in his eye, as he took the sponge from your hand and he then cleaned you, specially in your breasts

“You look so beautiful”, he said huskily, you leaned in and kissed him, wanting to get it over with 

He took you in the tub, making you ride him sensually, it didn’t hurt, in fact, it was actually pleasurable.

“You are coming home with me”, he whispered in your ear, with him still inside, but after your both reached your peak

“I don’t think that is such a good idea”, you whispered, he sighed loudly, “the fever is still out there”

And that is how you convinced him to let you stay, you could tell he was hurting, you could tell that he was lonely, now more than ever, but he heard you, and left you in Dragonstone, after an entire month, he left alone

And for the first time, you felt him defeated, even though he was the king of the seven Kingdoms 

And that is how, weeks turns to months, turned to years

12 years later 

When you looked at your little brother Viserys you often wondered if he was also a son to Harwin Breakbones Strong

Your brother, at his eighteen years old he had the stature and built of the strongest Knight of the seven Kingdoms

You saw him practicing with his sword against Steffon, he was truly a great teacher, and Aerion was also a great student, quick on his feet despite his height, and strong in his movements. 

Your daughter giggled by your side as you walked together by the beach. and walked toward the Dragonmount for her dragon riding lessons, even though she and her dragon were connected in levels you were yet to understand yourself

“When is papa coming back?”, she asked, and you just shook your head

“I’m not sure my love”

Aemond visited often, he found reprieve in Dragonstone, in your arms and his daughter’s care, he took you like a vacation, and you saw him happy, but he soon left, he was the King he had duties, and even though he had refused to say something or share about his thoughts, 

Despite his very efforts, and yours, you had not been able to conceive another child, you couldn’t pass the first trimester before bleeding, and that was alright with you, but not with him, he was concerned. But you found reprieve in Dragonstone, and even though Corlys was getting very old, and he walked with a cane now, you still felt contented

Rhaena and Baela had married, one within her family, and the other with a Hightower from Oldtown, to your surprise, you were certain Daemon was twisting and turning in his grave 

But they were happy 

You found meaning, raising your daughter, and caring front he people in the Crownlands

Corlys had sent your way many Lords of the great families through the years, and you knew them all, and that was very strange

You could feel it

The air was changing

You could sense it 

And it all came to be, when Aemond drew his last breath 

He had been battling with an unknown disease for months, shortness of breath, coughs, spitting spots of blood 

He died, slowly and painfully, the servant found him in the morning, with blood dripping off his mouth.

He knew it was coming, the stranger was looming over him and he spent his last weeks weak, not being able to leave his bed, and there, he pondered, about how he was going to leave this life, with nobody by his side.

His son was scared of him, barely looked at him in the eyes, and his Queen was in Dragonstone, with no intention of coming to his side, shunned and threatened, his daughter, the apple of his eye, was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, but so gentle and kind. he couldn’t force her to come to court, she was still to young and innocent

He laid alone, on his deathbed

A single tear escaped his eye, as tumultuous thoughts invaded his mind

The time he made Vhagar rip Lucerys front he skies, the time he defended Aegon and burned Rhaenys to a crisp, when he slayed all the Strongs he could get his hands on, when he burn to the ground all the castles and cities in the Riverlands…

 The first time he took you against your will, whe he humiliated you and made you kneel

Your tears

Your cries

Everything, installed on his chest like a knife, twisting and turning until he could no longer breathe

He died, coughing blood

Whispering how sorry he was, when Floris, his mother, Helaena, and Aegon came to collect him

 The day Corlys had been preparing for for years

As soon as his spies let him know of the dark news, he sent the ravens to all corners of the seven Kingdoms

From the Wall to Sunspear and Oldtown, all the great families but one, the Baratheons, started a long journey, but not to the Capital, but instead

To Dragonstone

As you, and our daughter mourned, dressed in black, you consoled your child, who only had known Aemond’s good side, she glung to your side as you kissed her head

“I’m sorry my love”, you whispered, as you were in the balcony, looking out at the seas

From one day to the other, ships with banners from all over the continent came to the island, to your amusement

Rickon Stark, now a young man, came to you, as did Edmund Tyrell, Robert Tully, Alyssa Arryn, Even the princes of Dorne came, not to surrender but to support

Corlys introduced them all, to the new King of the seven Kingdoms

Viserys Targaryen

They all bend the knee to him

And proclaimed him King with the crown of Jaehaerys 

“I love you, always”, you whispered to him, as you took his cheeks and made him lean in so you could kiss his forehead, he held you back, kissing your temple in turn

“My lovely sister, you kept me safe, you protected me, cared for me, now is time I do the same for you”, he whispered, “I will protect you now, you will be safe”

Happy tears rolled down your eyes, you knew it was going to be hard, and that your brother was going to be unsafe, but it was what it was 

It was his destiny

So you traveled with all the great families to King’s Landing, Corlys barely made the journey, but he did, and that is what he had been expecting for all his life.

But when you entered the Throne Room, you found a skimpy kid sitting in the Throne, his Baratheon family by his side, who paled when they saw the greatest commitive the world had ever seen. 

Viserys calmly walk up the stairs leading to the throne, the King’s guards did nothing to stop him, he only looked down at the boy and smirked

“You are in my seat”

The reign of King Visrys was long and fruitful, called Jahaerys come again, he married your daughter on her seventeenth name day, and together they had two princes and two princesses

You remarried, a man from a great house, you didn’t bare more children, but you were so happy, and contended, and lived in Dragonstone for the rest of your life

Corlys passed weeks after he put Viserys on the Throne, his life work was completed, thanks to him, the seven Kingdoms were now united under one rightful King, continuing your mother’s legacy, like it was supposed to be

THE END

[burningdreambanana]

An analysis on how the show turned Alicent into an accidental villain (part 1)

I think we are all disappointed with the way Alicent was portrayed this season but I think the issues with her character started in season 1, with the writers inability to give her good motivations, or even settle on what her motivations should be, which doomed her character from the start.

In interviews about season 1, Alicent is described as the medieval equivalent of a "Trump Wife" (which is very dumb in itself, since contrary to a modern conservative woman, Alicent doesn't exactly have much choice but to the accept the patriarchy) but essentially they meant Alicent, contrary to Rhaenyra, supports the patriarchy, the existing system : this is her worldview, she is a traditionalist.

But is this true? The answer is no. Alicent does not support the patriarchy in the show. In fact, she supported Rhaenyra's claim over her own's son right up until she had a personal grievance against Rhaenyra. And once she doesn't have that personal grievance anymore because she forgives Rhaenyra in S1E8, she's back to accepting her as queen.

If the writers wanted Alicent to be a supporter of the patriarchy, then they should have made her support Aegon's claim from his very birth. Which makes perfect sense, Alicent has grown in a world where all she's ever known is male primogeniture and it is still the law everywhere in the realm. Her nonchalance at her son being passed over when being the heir should be his birthright is really weird and was the first sign that the writers are unable to let go of their modern sensibilities and really immerse themselves (and us) in Westeros. They also decided to make the threat posed by Rhaenyra on Alicent's sons lives as a mere lie invented by Otto, when in fact Rhaenyra's claim is so shaky (and becomes shakier when she has bastards) that there's a huge likelihood that she would indeed need to get rid of them in order to ascend the throne in peace and secure the Strong boys's ascenscion to the throne as well.

If they had followed with that, than Alicent would have had solid motivations : the unfairness and humiliation of having her son being depraved of what should have been his birthright, and her legitimate fear for her children's safety.

Instead, since they made Alicent turn on Rhaenyra because of a personal grievance, she ends up looking like this petty, bitter, crazy woman who made everyone's life much more miserable, damaged her sons and put all her family in danger because of a grudge.

And it doesn't help that her grudge is poorly explained and pretty confusing. What exactly is Alicent so angry about ? Is it because, like Emily Carey said, she was in love with Cole? We didn't see that all in the show and Rhaenyra had no way of knowing so it would be insane to be this pissed for that. Is it because she in love with Rhaenyra and basically acting like a crazy ex even though they never were together and she herself is married? Is it because during their confrontation Rhaenyra didn't reveal her affair with Cole and implied she was virgin (though she never actually said)? It would be pretty rich of Alicent to be pissed about that considering she concealed her meetings with Viserys to Rhaenyra for months. Did she assume that because Rhaenyra slept with Cole than it must have been true she had sex with Daemon in a brothel? Is she just that pissed that Rhaenyra had sex out of wedlock ? (it would make sense for her to be disappointed but angry?).

All of these possible reasons make Alicent look frankly irrational and insane.

Then when her anger is finally justified after what happened to Aemond, this is where she decides to forgive Rhaenyra, making her apparent fear of her children's lives she transmitted to them look like a lie she made up to justify her anger and turn her children against Rhaenyra and her kids.

Her final motivation of S1, which is to follow Viserys "last command" doesn't make her look innocent, it makes her look worse. Not just because it's so dumb she actually believed Viserys changed his mind, but because we know for a fact Alicent has had not trouble disregarding Viserys wishes before, even to his face. But now that he is dead she acts like she has no choice? And forces Aegon on a throne he doesn't want, somehow acting as if this is not a declaration of war towards Rhaenyra and Daemon, and still taking a holier than thou, I can have this and peace too attitude.

[joseline-woodhouse]

I want in on talking about Annabel and Prospero.

Since most posts I've seen are about how nice it is to watch them being healthy for one another (it really is, I adore their dynamic) I decided to talk about how neither of them would hesitate to kill one another eventually.

First of all both Annabel Lee and Prospero are calculative people. Both of them care for only the outcome and how to get there. I have seen people call Annabel a hypocrite for protecting Prospero because he's important to her after what she did to Duke and I entirely disagree, more on the rescue from Ada later. We have established that Annabel really doesn't care that everyone in the academy (except one, if the Deans can be trusted) is doomed.

I don't think Annabel's general willingness to sacrifice people needs to be discussed.

Now, I'm leaning a bit far out the window here, but take a good look at Prospero in the left picture above, he looks more frustrated than anything. His chances just got a lot worse, he needs to rethink his strategy and on top of all that Ada is invading his personal space again.

Moving forward to what I think makes their mutual betrayal inevitable, the episodes after the Mansion Arc (this is were it gets interesting):

Until now we have seen Prospero mostly be mildly bothered by whatever is happening. When everything fell apart during the Lesson and everyone except for him apperently just did not do their job, he seemed like he was about to explode and seriously questioning his choice of team. Everyone else appeared to just want to go on with the day, Prospero however demanded answers, proving that he cares to win this entire game without getting side tracked.

Further his behaviour during the lesson shows that he actually doesn't get how anyone else would still be reluctant to kill their friends here. He was genuinely not expecting anyone to act out of empathy anymore.

And after the widow's watch affair and him witnessing Annabel freaking out after the labyrinth and smoothly asking about Pluto instead of giving an explanation, he is surely just one big-ish failure or unwillingness to take action away from openly confronting Annabel how it can be that whenever she is alone with Lenore, things go south ways, how whenever people want to act against Lenore, she calls it a waste of time despite the growingly obvious threat that Lenore poses.

I think Annabel actually does matter to him, and I think he matters to Annabel as well, but both of them expect something really specific from one another and sympathy alone means little to them.

Now about Annabel saving Prospero.

I believe this says everything:

Since Annabel is a chess player, get ready for chess metaphors:

In chess, most gambits are about giving away a pawn. Why? Because a pawn has very little value on its own and sacrificing a pawn in order to get a slightly more profitable structure on the board can actually be worth it.

Sacrificing a queen? If you do something like that, you better be 100% sure you're seeing a forced checkmate.

Not only is Prospero's spector really powerful, Prospero is also the only thing keeping Annabel in control of her own team right now. Other than Prospero who's supporting her as long as she keeps bringing results, she is stuck with Ada who is a complete wild card and useless most of the time, Morella who is only half on her team, Will who is loyal mostly to Montresor and Montresor who constantly challenges her leadership.

The way things are standing right now, everything she has build would fall apart the very moment Prospero is gone.

Also, what if Annabel and Lenore have to stay long enough for their teams to start falling apart? Whom does Annabel want to face in a one on one? Someone like Montresor who's spector can very much use brute force against her or someone like Prospero who's spector is similarly unforceful as hers?

We even saw, that Annabel can just simply neutralise Prospero's rats with her fog, leaving him with no real attack on her. While he applies her with status conditions she can use her blossoms to attack him after she used her fog to make his rats disappear like she did on the widow's watch

Annabel did not safe him because she likes him, which she does. She saved him because he is a very important piece for her game and no real threat to her in the long run.

Prospero follows Annabel not because he likes her, which he does, but because she keeps bringing results. Or at least she did until rather recently.

[wileys-russo]

i have LOTS of questions so i decided to write them all at once (hope you don’t mind)😭

1. where do they go to their first vacation? i can imagine eli being okay with it but how do ale, alba, mapi and ingrid react? i can imagine alba and mapi being like all calm and like “ahh just let them be young and have fun” and alexia and ingrid all stressed out thinking about everything that could go wrong😭

2. not a question but kind of a question? (and also this is more for @girlgenius1111 but since she is recovering from surgery and you will have free time i decided to write to you) but, I need a fic with fresa is looking after scout. like is this happening when fresa and sol still don’t know each other (and mapi just asks fresa to look after scout for sol)? like when they met while mapi was giving fresa the car tattoo? and is sol still incredibly shy when handing over scout? like when they first met? or are they friends already? or maybe even girlfriends? i NEED to know the tea!!

3. do you know the olive theory? like the one that hates olives and the other that loves them so they take them? (in the end both hate olives) is this applicable to sol and fresa (maybe with other foods)??

4 what is their absolute favorite thing to watch together? and similarly do they show each other some cliché Tv shows in spanish/norwegian? (in my country we have a tv show called family affairs and tbh it’s the cringiest thing i have ever seen, and if i ever have a girlfriend this is the first thing i am going to show her because she NEEDS to experience the cringe of other cultures)

5. who is the one to wake up super early and who is to one to go to sleep at an ungodly hour?

6. another question that very much involves @girlgenius1111 but let’s suppose that sol makes up with her mom and wants to meet with her, how does fresa react? is she super protective? is she supportive? is she a mix of both? does she freak out? is she ready to take out box gloves and beat everyone?

7. once again the opinion of the queen herself @girlgenius1111 is needed but how does sol react to finding out that the relationship between fresa and alexia/alba is very stranded? obviously sol likes alexia but she doesn’t know her on a personal level super well, what does she do when she finds out that it’s not as perfect as it seems? that they may have more in common that she initially thought? the same goes for fresa finding out about sol’s relationship with ingrid, like it’s different but in some ways very similar. i suppose both feel very abandoned? how do they get through that?

ok i have even more questions but i need to stop now or i may yap till the end of the day. anyway sorry for such a long ask. feel free to not answer (if i were you i would just ignore this tbh) or “not answering, find out later” is just as acceptable. whatever you feel like tbh!!!

anyway i love this story that you and k! have created together, you both are very special writers and i VERY much appreciate what you do and write, anyway take care and lots of love🍓☀️❤️ (if anything i have written doesn’t make sense i had a bottle of wine and my first language isn’t english😭)

idk if it counts as a vacation but early on into knowing one another but not yet quite dating they go to madrid together alone for a concert! you are absolutely correct lmao alba and mapi help them get their train tickets and drive them to the station, meanwhile alexia and ingrid are too busy stressing they're too young to go alone and they'll wind up kidnapped or something dramatic

K and I were talking about this literally yesterday and trying to work out a timeline for all the blurb ideas we have for Sol and Fres + how it all ties into filling the void and family line! but yes fresa looks after scout for a week (he comes to stay with her and Eli) when Sol goes to Norway with Ingrid and Mapi, but thats after they've been dating for awhile. the first time Fresa meets Scout its before she even realises she likes Sol, but Sol is shocked at how much Scout seems to love Fresa (aka dog whisperer putellas)

they actually both like pickles on burgers but pretend not to when they think the other doesn't, so neither of them end up eating the pickles despite actually having a mutual love for them (same goes for olives)

mmm i don't know a whole lot about tv shows outside of where i'm from but i imagine both Sol and Fres have a mutual love of trashy reality tv shows. specifically the kardashians and any sort of dating show like love island, too hot to handle etc. they both spend the entire time complaining about how awful the show is but also, never miss an episode. they also love to binge true crime dramas together, and Fresa loves medical programs but she knows she can't watch them around Sol because Sol faints at even the slightest sign of blood

Fresa is a morning person (Alexia's influence) and Sol is a night owl!

Fresa is very cautious how she speaks about Sol and Ingrids mum, obviously she knows whats happened and it breaks her heart that anyone could treat such a perfect human like that. but she also knows theres parts of Sol that still love her mum and Fresa doesn't want to go too hard on the 'your mum is such a piece of shit for treating you like that' train and upset her girlfriend. so she lets Sol take the lead in conversations about her mum and is careful how she responds!

By the time Sol and Fresa start to properly interact its after everything has gone down between Fresa and her sisters and they're well on track back to being as close as they used to be. But when Sol first opens up to Fresa about how she ended up in Spain living with her sister and the strains of their relationship early on in her stay, Fresa opens up about her own struggles with that and they bond over it. Fresa is a lot more forthcoming with information but Sol doesn't trust as easily so it takes a little longer for Fresa to really understand the extent of the struggles in her life when she lived in Norway thank you for all of these they really made me (and K) think!! i know some people might think its stupid to go so in depth about creating a life for a made up character but it really is a fun escape and i love creating Fresa's little universe, and its nice to write about a wholesome queer teenage relationship because they get done so dirty in tv shows most of the time! 🍓🍓 @girlgenius1111

[princesssmars]

a royal affair

after their trumph against the crone and a long journey home, jade and kit return to a bustling kingdom and a tense relationship. little do they know the answer to their problems lies in a foreign princess.

wc : 6.096

contains : sfw and nsfw content. takes place after the season ends. dont ask me how they got back idfk. fxfxf poly relationship. kit and jade mutually start to like reader so no cheating. slight jealousy later but all resolved. reader is a fem!princess. skin color not described. reader is described as having hair. reader wears dresses and pants. arranged marriage but it ends well promise. nsfw includes kissing, oral, and penetrative sex. a strap on because i like em. switch reader, switch jade, dom kit bc i think its be cool if she was a freak idfk.

a/n : i need to be neutered. disney bring willow back or i send b0mb. kingdom name generator sucks so yes ur kingdom is one from skyrim. enjoy.

it was over. it was finally over.

after a few months on the road fighting for their lives, discovering lost and painful secrets, and facing an ancient evil and actually surviving, the group from tir asleen were so glad to return home.

and none of the group were as thankful to return home as kit. sure when she got back she'd have to explain to the king of a neighboring country that his son, her fiancée, had died suddenly at the hands of the crone, and she'd have to deal with her best friend who was now more than that who was a member by birth of a clan she and her people previously thought were barbarians, and don't get her started on the whole thing with her dad actually still being alive.

but on that first night back as she takes a two hour long bath and flops onto her bed, she realized it was all so worth it.

when they returned it was nothing short of chaos. at that point a good portion of the people had thought the group had perished on the road, either due to the harsh climates, thieves, or probably just their own poor judgements and inexperience. but the kingdom had collectively lifted in spirits when the new heroes of tir asleen returned, victorious against a great evil and bringing back their beloved prince.

(the news about the whole giant evil wyrm thing was kept under wraps as to "not disturb this long needed sense of peace", as said by queen sorsha herself, who was surprised but not rejecting when as soon as they returned both of her twins slumped into her arms and gave her a giant warm hug.)

this so called sense of peace brought more changes than they expected. it was almost like the realm was revitalized, the daikinis expanding their reach and the nelwyns trusting willow enough when he suggested that they stop living in darkness and start rebuilding their community.

it was really nice, for most people to not be so afraid all of the time. but kit couldn’t truly revel in the shared joy of the people. not when she knew what she had learned out there.

that jade was a bone-reaver. that she had a sister and a whole community waiting back for her in the wilderness, and soon she would have to make a decision if she would stay here, with kit and the people who technically had stolen her from her family but she had nevertheless grown to love, or back with the reavers to build a connection with people who would welcome her with open arms.

every day between the two was tense. those romantic feelings were still there, obvious between the gazes in hallways and the frantic make outs in the dead of night in each others beds. but there was a weight, a sinking feeling in the both of their stomachs after each shared moment. the knowledge that one day this might end.

a few weeks into their return they don’t get much time to feel on it, as queen sorsha is alerted that two kingdoms from the north and the east have heard of the kingdoms triumphs and would like to visit to form alliances. kits a bit shocked that her mother seems so open to the idea, but figured anything would be better than her focusing on the threat of the wyrm and what will come of the shaken galladoorn king.

the preparation is a whirlwind, workers of the castle working day and night to get ready for the stay of distant royalty. whenever she’d stop by the kitchens to sneak away a snack it was as busy as she’d ever seen it, her favorite cook margaret always rushing her out before she could get a pastry.

kit had to admit she was wary about visitors. it’s not like a journey akin to the one she went on made for a perfect tale of random hospitality when it came to new people.

nevertheless, the time for the royals banquet came in the blink of an eye. she had spent a great deal of the day letting her lady’s maids get her read, taking a bath after an early morning air with jade, fixing her tousled hair and putting her in a classy yet breathable dress.

when she finally does get to the feast, she’s surprised by how much fun she actually has. a few lower ranking royals and warrior had coke from each kingdom, and spent the night telling stories from their pasts and some even reenacting them for the queen. kit swore she even saw her mother laugh at one of the stories, something about a stupid man falling head over heels for a woman who hated his guts.

kit was nothing but enthralled by the important guest of the evening. the royal family of the eastern kingdom, maelstrom, were a collection of tough looking people hardened by battles and a love for fighting. despite thinking they would be a family of scary hard asses, they had come bearing a multitude of gifts, the king constantly wearing a smile on his face as he was ecstatic to meet the legendary warrior turned queen sorsha.

and then there were the others. the royal family of winterhold, were a small family but carried a regal and powerful air about them. before eating the first course a noble guard had told her and jade some things about them, like how the family were known for being gracious but ruling with an iron fist. they had trampled many threats, people regularly mistaking their beautiful appearances for weakness.

and the princess of tir asleen had to admit she was guilty of the same thing. for the first hour she frequently catches the eye of a girl she’s never seen before from across the room. she can tell she’s an important person from the north, seen by her intricate hairstyle and the furs of her dress. every time you lock eyes you send her a little smile and she quickly turns her head away to avoid you.

she would feel guilty if a little while later when looking for jade who had wandered off she didn’t catch the both of you in the midst of conversation, jades sword in your hands as you admire the craftsmanship.

“it really is a beautiful weapon, jade. i’d love to see you use it in action, i’m sure you’re more than proficient with it.” kit listens to your conversation as she walks up behind the two of you, noticing how close you stand next to her knight.

“i don’t know how appropriate it would be for me to train in front of a visiting royal, but i’m sure i could pull some strings.“ jades head bows and tilts to yours, a sign kit recognizes as the red head being bashful. she doesn’t like how it makes her feel.

almost like you have a sixth sense you turn towards the princess, the quickness of it and your face being so close to hers throwing her off a bit.

“your highness, we finally meet. your companion here was just regaling me with the tale of your adventure and defeat of the crone. i have to admit im more than impressed.”

“it’s nice to meet you princess. i’m glad you’re warming up to us here. if you don’t mind, i’d like to talk to my close friend here. alone.”

“kit!” jade hissed, hoping you don’t take her partners words in the wrong way. but all you did was smile, bidding the two girls a good night and that you looked forward to seeing them later.

(jade wouldn’t admit that she thought jealousy was a rather cute look on the girl, especially later that night when the princess was moving like a woman starved to remove her clothing, staring at her body like she was going to tear her apart. she would let a little jealousy slide then.)

before the pair went to sleep jade decided to bring it up, not wanting the two them to go to sleep with any grudges or things left unsaid. it didn’t take much for kit to admit her feelings at the encounter she had with the foreign princess, but it did shock her when jade thought it was alright since she caught kit staring at you. a lot.

the next few days are now tense for a completely different reason. there is a mutual understanding between kit and jade that they both find you attractive, but they agree not to do anything about it in fear of freaking you out and jeopardizing the alliance. they swore to both be on their best behaviors'

but it was pretty damn hard to do so when it seemed like you were flirting with them often. the best example would be on the days that they sparred, you would frequently not be too far away as you watched the both of them with great interest. sometimes it would make one of them fumble, leading to the other to gain an advantage and win the round which always made you laugh before you left.

when it was clear that the two of them were going to keep dancing around whatever this was, you decided to take matters into your own hands. after careful observations you could tell what would attract each of the girls to you.

jade was more open to you after that first meeting. she was dedicated to the crown, although not as much as you would expect, but you could save that question for another day, and if you asked her for help with anything she would dutifully do as you requested. your favorite was asking her to show you some of her moves and attacks, praising her for her skills and what a talented warrior she was.

the warrior had a thing for praise - you realized when you complimented her for her strength after a simple self defense lesson ended up with you on the floor - could this get any better?

kit was a bit harder to crack for you. even with some careful questions and answers from jade, the brunette was still a bit standoffish when it came to you, most likely because you were flirting with her lover in front of her face and then flirted with her back after. but the clear internal battle in her was so intriguing to watch you couldn’t help but feed the flames.

since both of you were the heirs to your kingdoms and your mothers were still negotiating, the two of you spent quite a bit of time together inside the palace. granted most of it was spent in formal settings like meetings, dinners, et cetera. you could tell kit was constantly trying her hardest to be polite, but would sometimes let a sly remark slip through. you’re just glad they were directed at you under her breath; if you’re mother heard any disrespect targeted at you she’d most likely command her soldiers to attack at once.

but you were nothing if not persistent and determined. you would sometimes catch the way kit looked at jade, her pupils dilated and her lips bitten when the knight would stretch or show a sliver of the skin in her stomach. it was almost too easy to grab her attention when you started dressing in more traditional tir asleenian attire, swapping between tight pants to show off your figure or airy dresses with drooping necklines. they were drastically different from the garments from home, most of your clothes having fur and heavy fabrics.

you can still vividly picture the look on kit's face when you passed each other in the halls one morning, her eyes drawn like a magnet to the skin of your neck and the top of your cleavage in your pretty blouse. for added effect, you had worn one of those semi-corsets you'd seen the princess occasionally wearing. partly because you wanted her attention and partly because you thought they were cute.

besides trying to seduce the pair, they eventually became two people who you truly enjoyed being in your company. you were surprised at the leniency queen sorsha gave her children, the twins given free reign over the castle and the villages nearby. kit herself invited you once to join them in, lightly teasing you as for the first time she saw you nervous, scared of getting caught and having to face the wrath of your mother.

but one night it all became so, so worth it. a dark tavern, too much ale, and an off handed comment about how cute you found their not-so-secret relationship led to you three in a cramped rented room in a mix of kisses and tongues and limbs.

you had to admit you were thoroughly surprised by their dynamics in bed. when it came to training you noticed that whatever jade said to kit goes, the princess clearly having a deep affection and respect for the older girl. you would have thought that it would carry over into the bedroom and jade would be pinning kit to the bed, but when the three of you rush into the rented bedroom and kit pins jade's hands above her head you are exceptionally excited.

you sit yourself down on the bed, facing the tangled lovers while you slowly start to undress yourself. when you take off your top and your cloth bra, jade can't help but let out a moan at the feeling of one princess sucking and biting a mark into her neck and one exposing her breasts and smiling at her like a siren. she gets so overwhelmed when she feels kit's eager hand grasp her breath she has to push the girl by the shoulders, tilting her head to bring her attention to you.

now, you had had your fair share of trysts back home, easily able to find girls who had either wanted to experiment or just have one shot with the princess of winterhold. most of the time you had intercourse with girls you'd take on the more dominant role, be it because of the way some girls were inexperienced, some were just submissive at heart, and how you didnt think you enjoyed anything more than seeing pretty girls fall apart under you.

but as you and kit are almost violently fighting for dominance while she kissed you like she was almost insane, you're starting to think that duke's daughter you slept with a year ago who said "you're a control freak in court and it travels down into your sexual life." really was onto something.

you swore the brunette was about to give in, little moans escaping from her lips and her eyes rolling back into her head when you tug her hair to get access to her neck, but you suddenly get the wind knocked out of you when she's flipping you over and pressing you into the bed, your arms suddenly held above your head by jade as kit looks at you with a wild grin.

maybe you can be on the bottom, just this once.

except 'just that once' turned into a whole lot more than once. after that first night of passion and lust it seemed like the three of you couldnt keep your hands off of each other, taking any chance possible to sneak into a room or hidden broom closet to induldge in each other.

while you were able to change thins uo when you were with jade, a simple praise and brush across her neck turning the girl to putty in your arms. you had to be careful, though. once after another unneeded self defense lesson where she had beaten and pinned you in under a minute, one little "god, im so proud of you." led to her nearly humping you like a dog outside on the rocks.

but no matter what you did you still couldnt manage to dominate kit. youd be damning her to the high heavens if it didnt turn you on immensely on she could so quickly reduce you to a whimpering and begging mess.

it got to the point where you were daydreaming about her constantly. when you passed each other in the halls you shivered when her hand brushed against yours and it gave you the muscle memory of her lithe fingers curling and thrusting inside of you, when you were eating together your eyes focused on the movement of her mouth and how you could picture her mouthing at your cunt, or even how when you got the princess and jade tangled up after a spar you got so many ideas how badly you wanted your legs tangled with theirs as you felt your pleasure together.

they were actually driving you crazy. you, the heir of winterhold, fawning over a princess and her ptoector. if those girls back home could see you now they'd cackle.

the three of you werent as sneaky as you would have hoped though.

one night, kit had come to the two of you with a proposition and a package she had acquired, asking if you would like to try it out. jade had opened the package and the way her breathing stopped and eyes enlarged made you think there was actually a rabid wolf inside of the box, but instead she pulls out an object that is long and black and phallic. you’re a little embarrassed to even think of the flutter it starts in your chest.

"i think ill opt out, this once," you nervously squirm in your place. "gods, kit. where did you even get that? ive heard about these but ive never actually seen one."

"aw, are you scared?" kit pinches your shoulder and slightly winces when you do it to her wrist.

jade scoffs at the two of you before telling kit to stop teasing you, assuring you that you didnt have to do anything you didnt want to. gods, she was so sweet to you, always making sure you were comfortable with whatever was happening between the three of you. you just couldn't help yourself when kit was pounding the toy into her, her soft red curls resting on your lap as her big green eyes stared up at you. you could tell that your unmoving gaze on her face and the touch of your hands moving across her face, neck, and chest was not helping in her struggle to keep her noises at bay.

so when your fingers traveled to her breasts and squeezed her nipples, could you really blame yourself for the loud moan that came from her throat? it wasn't exactly your fault she was sensitive. although if it was up to her she would say you definitely knew what you were doing, especially when your fingers trailed down her torso and lightly grazed her clit just at the same moment kit roughly trusted her hips and hit the gooey spot deep inside of her.

looking back, it was only a matter of time until the three of you got caught.

only three days later both of your mothers asked you and kit to join them to a private tea. it wasn't odd for your mother to ask you to tea with her at home, but she hadn't called for you since you arrived in tir asleen. on the way kit had even told you her mother hated tea, and she couldn't recall a time in recent years when the two of them just sat in a room talking to each other without an argument starting.

when you entered the room you could immediately tell something was wrong. first, jade and erik were there; jade was supposed to have a rare day of rest today, and erik was...well, he wasn't often present at important conversations you had come to learn. second, your mother looked on edge. in all your years on earth, you had never seen her show any sign of weakness, the woman learning from a young age that being a ruler of an entire nation meant constantly being guarded. the sight of her being nervous put a sick feeling in your stomach.

"uh, mom? is something going on?" kit took a blunt approach before sitting down on the armchair across from her mother as you did the same. sorsha face looked tense but also a little judgy if you were reading her right.

sorsha raised her hand in a simple gesture and a timid-looking girl wearing a maid uniform came rushing from the corner of the room until she stood behind the sitting queen. you stared at her for a second until the realization hit you like a brick in the face. you never caught her name, but you knew she worked in the hallways surrounding kits room.

"this is moira, one of the new maids who works in the west wing," sorsha begins to explain as the maid in question can't meet your eyes, her eyes staring at her feet. "a few days ago she took the night shift for cleaning some of the floors and heard something quite peculiar coming from your room, kit."

"mom, i can explain-"

"no, kit, we would really like you to not explain." the queen's voiced raised as she quickly cut kit off, the girl's body going rigid beside yours. at this point you were the same, your mom's cold glare making you uncomfortable in your seat.

"although i'm slightly embarrassed at this situation, both because of the nature of it and how fast it seems to be spreading among the staff, queen morwine and i have come up with a proposed solution to this."

as soon as you heard this proposed (more like already decided) idea, for the two of you to get married in the following weeks, you think you blacked out for a few hours. and in hindsight that was horrifying. if there was anything your parents taught you it was to be composed, to be ready for anything at a moment's notice. but to be fair you'd never had to deal with an arranged marriage proposal before.

everything you could remember after it was said was a blur. you could remember kit yelling, obviously opposed to the idea of yet another arranged marriage, at the fact that she thought she had finally managed to finally convince her mother that she deserved the right to choose who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with and had proven she wasn't just a political pawn. even though you agreed with what she was saying, the malice in her voice from even just the idea of marrying you hurt.

jade was in an equal state of shock and only moved from her spot when you stumbled out of the room to the audible disapproval from your mother and rushed down the halls.

before you knew it you had run out of breath and settled on a log by a lake not far from the castle grounds. the sun was setting and there were fireflies out over the water. you could hear frogs croaking. it was nice. peaceful.

the knight gently rested a hand on your shoulder. "are you alright?"

you really didnt know how to answer the question.

"up north all of our lakes are frozen solid. the only time you see the water is when the ice is broken for ice sellers or a fool falls through on a dare that they can walk all the way across. i'd never even seen a fully melted one until we started to journey here," you breathe slowly and rub your hands up your arms, the night chill starting to take an effect. jade sits beside you and her natural warmth makes you feel a little better. "i care about you both, really, i do. but whatever this is has only just started and i...i don't know if I'm ready to give my whole life up for it."

the air goes quiet and the sun sets before she walks you back to your room, pausing outside of the door and taking your hand in hers and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

"i know this will be difficult but just...don't shut us out, please."

you could only give her a smile before you shut the door.

the next two weeks were tense.

sometimes when you were little you'd dream about your wedding, picturing a gorgeous girl waiting for you at the end of a beautiful altar and everything would be big and grand and snowy and perfect.

but now you're in a nation that's hot and filled with people you don't know but you're apparently about to rule over, and your gorgeous girl has been giving you the cold treatment ever since the news broke. you had tried cornering her in the halls, after sparring, even after dinner, but she always found a way to get around you and continue doing whatever the hell she was doing.

she wasn't talking to jade either, which slightly made you feel better because if she was you'd be feeling jealous, left a sour taste in your mouth at how she was shutting both of you out for no reason. one night jade had snuck extremely carefully into your room to bring you some snacks you'd been craving and had told you that the princess was just feeling a mix of betrayal, hurt, and worry all at the same time and wasn't the best at handling her emotions when she was upset.

if there was anything keeping you grounded at that time it was jade. she had to tread carefully so it didn't look like she was choosing sides between the two of you, but she always made sure to be there when you were slipping. one of the royal wedding planners was pressuring you to pick a flower to add to the bouquets that would be used to decorate the ceremony and the one you'd hold as you walked down the aisle, and just when you were on the brink on breaking down and just retreating to you room altogether jade stepped in for you and recommended a mix of your favorite flowers from your homeland and kits, signifying the union of your nations in a small but beautiful way.

and maybe having so much of her attention and still having to see kits stupid but cute upset face whenever she saw the two of you got to your head, because later that night you're sitting with jade by that same lake from a while ago and kissing her like your starving, pulling her closer by the back of her neck while your hips grind into hers like you'll die if you don't get closer to her. a few weeks ago you had all agreed to not leave too visible marks, but when you bite roughly on her collarbone and she pulls you closer by your hips, you don't really think she cares.

which is great for you, because when you walk with jade to drop her off at her training session and kit sees the mark on her skin her reaction is worth every bit of sadness you felt.

the night before your wedding was nice you would admit. there was a banquet with both families and a few dozen others, which gave you a crazy sense of deja vu, and you were able to somewhat enjoy yourself. your younger siblings were teasing you nonstop and some of the more vulgar court members were doing the same in a way that made you slightly uncomfortable, but nothing you hadn't heard before. it'd be made better if your bride-to-be wasn't glaring holes into the side of your head every so often, but you would take what you could get.

once the party has ended and an uncountable amount of people had wished you 'good luck's and 'congratulations'' for the following day, you trek back to your bedroom and decide to wind how with a nice warm bath and some scents a courier had brought from your home. just as you had poured the liquid into the water and sunk into the water, the gentle whoosh of the bathroom door opening and closing has your eyes widening and reaching for the closest thing you could as a weapon when your gaze lands on kit, standing at the door with her arms crossed and staring you down.

"if you don't mind, i'd like to spend my night alone and not with you leering at me while i do it."

"to be fair, its nothing i haven't seen before," she smirks and starts to walk closer to your bath, not being able to avoid you flicking water on her clothes. "this is serious, i want...i need to talk to you."

you can't help but scoff at her words. "oh, you need to talk to me? i wasn't really getting that from the past two weeks of silence and ignoring."

"i know, i get it, and im sorry-"

"that's not enough."

you close your eyes and focus on your breathing, not wanting a fight to start lest anyone hear it through the walls. you can hear the sound of kit's boots moving until they stop at the side of your tub, seeing the girl get on her knees before softly taking your hand and holding it over her heart.

"you're right, its not enough. i acted like a complete and utter dick to you and you didn't deserve it. i was so in my head about the wedding, and my mom and graydon and jade and you, that i shut both of you out when we all should have been with each other. and i swear I'm gonna spend the rest of our dumb married lives making it up to you."

you couldn't help but snort at her while she apologized, able to tell that she truly meant it. it was all just hitting you how much you missed her these past few weeks, how she was always trying to say something humourous to break your 'cold exterior'.

(she thought that joke was hilarious and neither you nor jade had the heart to tell her it was lame.)

"i forgive you, kit. and dont think for a second that im not going to hold you to that promise." you brought a hand up to sweep some hair away from her face, chuckling when she lightly tries to shake off the water your fingers left.

she looks at you so fondly before giving you a light kiss on your lips. but blame it one the faint traces of alcohol still in your system, or the low lighting of the bathroom, or just the sensitivity from opening up to each other, but the kiss quickly turns heated before you're both hurriedly rushing to remove her clothing before she's joining you in the bath, the both of you giggling as water sloshes on the ground and you nearly cackle when you see kits giant little toy below her hips.

"were you planning this? you expected me to forgive you as easily as i did?"

"no, but. a princess is always prepared."

luckily no loud noises were heard in the hallway (where jade happened to be standing outside of your bedroom door for both protection and assurance for kit), even though it took biting your lip until you thought it would bleed before kit took some pity on you before she manuevered your body to take you from behind, covering your mouth with her hand as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

once your high hits you with what feels like the power of a hundred stars, the girl carefully lifts you from the cold water and helps you dry off before leading you to lie down on your bed, where jade waits in the middle after assuring you all helpers on the night shift didn't come near your room out of respect or privacy.

you laid in between the two girls, jade in front of you and kit behind you as they snuggled into you and held hands across your waist. they whispered sweet words in the darkness of the room, promising each other that they wouldn't let this get in the way of their previous relationship, that they hoped to build a great life with you by their side, and that they couldn't wait to spend the rest of their lives with you.

you fell asleep dreaming of a white wedding in spring. you really enjoyed it.

when you woke up the two of them had already left to get ready for the wedding, as a handful of lady's maids came in to prepare you for the day. you were thankful they ignored how worn out you looked as they helped you to take another bath and do up your hair.

if there was one thing you loved most it was your dress. it was a traditional but gorgeous dress from your homeland, and you were glad your mother insisted on it being made exactly the way you had envisioned. she might have forced you into a marriage but she'd be damned if you didn't look exactly how you had always dreamed.

the preparation was over in what felt like a second, and before you knew it you were walking down the aisle. the renovated dining hall was ethereal, decorated in a combination of white and purples and blues and pinks and greens. winter meets spring.

regret was seeping into you for picking jade to be your maid of honor because seeing her stand across from kit makes you feel so nervous and sick and in love that you want to just turn around and take a breather for a few hours.

the vows arent long and once you give her a quick kiss it doesn't fully register in your mind that the two of you are actually married now. but it does feel different. like there's a new gravity to your relationship that wasn't there before that both terrifies and excites you.

the reception is lovely as well. compared to last night there are less inappropriate jokes and more genuine well-wishes for the two of you and what this marriage will do for both kingdoms.

the mention of your home would make your mouth twitch. you were starting to become truly happy here, but you would always miss winterhold.

after the food was served and some forms of entertainment were performing for the crown, your mother pulled you aside to talk. at this point, you hadn't talked to her in a few weeks, safe for required details about the wedding or basic pleasantries.

"i understand you're upset with me, and i know that i will have to earn your trust again. and i will do so no matter how long it takes. sorsha and i have been discussing establishing a safer and faster trade route between here and winterhold, maybe start establishing some new towns to people displaced by this crone madness. once its finished you can come back whenever you'd like. it will always be your home, no matter what."

you hugged her tighter than you ever had before.

after the toasts are made and the festivities of the night (which were very fun, you had to admit. you asked kit what gave some of the people such a love for fun and partying and she said it was something her dad brought out in people) are over you make your way to kits room and plop yourself down on the bed, kit and jade in tow and plopping down themselves. its quiet for a while. as they help you out of your wedding dress no words are said. nothing about how two of you are going to be queens once sorsha steps down, nothing about how jade has agreed to go visit her sister for a while to bond with her family and her people before coming back and seeing if there was any way to help them more, or how kit would most likely go on another adventure with boorman and the elora danan to help her father escape from wherever he was.

all you could focus on was the two girls who you cared about more than anything and being surrounded by them as you fell asleep, knowing that whatever new surprises that came in the future you would face.

together.

i love them a lot is it obvious. the bath scene was inspired by a p0rn video i saw on twitter but then i remembered they didn't have showers in that time period :( i didn't realize until the end that i barely talked about boorman elora and willow... ok bye bye

[thesimcalledclem]

FIRE AND BLOOD Chapter Four ────── ☾ ──────

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Targcest. S!sterw!fe. Dubious consent (You know all the drills atp if you've gotten this far into the tag.) OC FIC, if that isn't what you are into, then kindly don't read. 18+ MDNI

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO UPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO ANY OTHER SITES.

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In the aftermath of the chaotic coronation, my world shifted irrevocably. My childhood chambers, once a sanctuary of familiarity and comfort, were exchanged for the opulent yet alien Queen's apartments, adjoined to Aegon's by a narrow passageway. The grandeur of the new rooms, with their soaring ceilings and ornate tapestries, felt suffocating, a gilded cage that mocked my newfound status. I longed for the simplicity of my old rooms, for the worn books that lined my shelves, their pages filled with tales of adventure and escape. 

My brief forays into the sky atop Solayre, once a source of exhilaration and freedom, were now met with more disapproval and admonishment. Aegon and Alicent, ever mindful of the precarious political climate, deemed it too dangerous for the Queen to be seen on dragonback while tensions with our half-sister rose. My wings were clipped, my spirit confined to the stifling confines of the Red Keep. 

Nightly, Aegon would visit my chambers, his presence a grim reminder of my duty. Spurred on by my mother's relentless whispers of the need for an heir, our encounters were devoid of any warmth or intimacy. He would arrive late, his movements efficient and detached, his touch cold and impersonal. I would lie beneath him, my body a vessel for his seed, my mind a million miles away. 

Afterwards, he would disappear without a word, leaving me alone in the vastness of the Queen's bed. The next morning, his haggard appearance and bloodshot eyes told a familiar story. He sought solace in the bottom of a bottle, drowning his guilt and self-loathing in a sea of Arbor Red. 

The days blurred into an endless cycle of monotony and despair. I spent my mornings embroidering with Helaena, our conversations stilted and filled with unspoken anxieties. Meals were a tense affair, the forced smiles and polite chatter a thin veneer over the simmering resentments that threatened to boil over. And then, each night, the dreaded ritual would repeat itself, Aegon's presence a dark cloud that cast a pall over my every waking moment. 

Months passed in this agonizing limbo, each day a carbon copy of the last. I felt like a ghost, drifting through the halls of the Red Keep, my spirit tethered to a man I despised, my body a vessel for a future I didn't choose. The weight of the crown, a heavy burden on my brow, was a constant reminder of the sacrifices I had made, the freedoms I had lost. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a deep bitterness took root in my heart, its tendrils slowly poisoning my soul.  ────── ☾ ──────

One night that seemed like all the others, a monotonous repetition in the grim symphony of my new life. The aftermath of his climax hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that permeated the room. He didn't rise from the bed immediately, as was his custom. Instead, he lay beside me, an arm thrown over his face, his breath ragged and uneven. I was accustomed to his swift departures, his cold and aloof manner a familiar sting. This unexpected lingering left me disoriented, a knot of unease tightening in my chest. 

"Aegon?" I ventured, my voice a tentative whisper, afraid to shatter the fragile silence. 

He lowered his arm, revealing eyes clouded with exhaustion. He didn't answer, merely raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry. 

"I—uh," I stammered, my words stumbling over themselves. Did I even want to say anything? I cleared my throat, pulling the linen sheet higher, seeking a semblance of protection. "Are you well?" 

A humorless laugh escaped his lips, a bitter sound that echoed the hollowness in my own heart. "Am I well?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Such piety, wife." His gaze returned to the ceiling, his disinterest palpable. 

I felt a familiar sting of chastisement, my eyes dropping to my chest. Silence descended once more, broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. I inhaled deeply and immediately regretted it, the cloying scent of the fermented grapes inside his goblet filled the air, a nauseating reminder of the forced intimacy we'd just shared. 

Minutes or perhaps hours passed, time losing its meaning in the oppressive stillness. Finally, Aegon spoke, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the mattress. "I grow tired of my rest being interrupted," he said, his tone laced with bitterness. "Mother or Otto come barging in whenever they please." 

His words hung in the air, a flimsy excuse for his prolonged presence in my chambers. I turned my head to look at him, my brow furrowed in confusion. "You are the King," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "Deny them entry." 

His gaze snapped to mine, his lilac eyes piercing through the dim light. "You are Queen," he countered, his voice sharp. "How does barring their entry work for you?" 

I swallowed the retort that threatened to spill from my lips. He was right, of course. My title held no real power, no authority to shield us from the relentless machinations of my mother and her allies. "You make a fine point," I conceded, a bitter taste coating my tongue. 

He reached for the wine goblet, the pungent aroma of the alcohol making my empty stomach churn. I turned away, unable to bear the sight. 

I saw the narrowing of his eyes in my peripheral vision, but he said nothing. Instead, he set the goblet back down with a soft clink. 

"I will leave in the morning," he announced, his voice flat and final. He turned his back to me, the linen sheet a stark barrier between us. 

I stared at his broad back, a mixture of shock and disdain warring within me. Even my own chambers were no longer a sanctuary from him, from the suffocating reality of our union. A wave of despair washed over me, leaving me feeling cold and empty. The night stretched before me, an endless expanse of loneliness and fear. 

Dawn painted the sky with streaks of pale gold and crimson, casting a somber glow over the opulent chamber. Contrary to his promise, Aegon remained in my bed, his slumber deep and undisturbed. His leg, thrown carelessly over mine during the night, pinned me to the mattress, his body radiating a heat that was both discomforting and unsettling. The mingled scent of his sweat and the lingering aroma of wine clung to him, a potent cocktail that churned my stomach. I fought back a wave of nausea, my hand instinctively covering my mouth. 

With a surge of defiance, I nudged his shin with my foot, the pressure insistent but not unkind. He stirred, a low groan escaping his lips. A hand reached up to rub his face, his fingers tracing the light stubble that had grown overnight. His lilac eyes fluttered open, blinking blearily at me. 

For a moment, we simply stared at each other, the silence heavy with unspoken truths. The remnants of the previous night's forced intimacy lingered in the air, a palpable tension that crackled between us. 

"Release me," I whispered, my voice hoarse from disuse. I squirmed beneath his leg, my discomfort growing with each passing second. 

He didn't respond immediately, his mind still clouded by sleep. Then, with a grunt of annoyance, he rolled off me, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated. 

I wasted no time in escaping the confines of the bed, rushing to the adjoining chamber to relieve myself. The pressure in my bladder, a result of hours spent trapped beneath his slumbering form, was almost unbearable. I emerged moments later, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. 

Aegon, now fully awake, watched me from the bed, his eyes narrowed in silent scrutiny. I stood by the dressing screen, my gaze fixed on him as he gathered his discarded clothing with one extended hand and began to dress. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, his silence more unnerving than any accusation. 

He said nothing, merely stared at me with those hazy, bloodshot eyes. I felt exposed under his gaze, my body aching with the memory of his touch. A wave of shame washed over me, a bitter reminder of my powerlessness. 

Finally, he turned away, his movements slow and deliberate as he finished dressing and rose from the bed. Without a word, he strode towards the door, leaving me alone in the silent aftermath. 

I watched him go, my heart heavy with a mixture of relief and despair. He had violated my body, my sanctuary, and then simply walked away, as if it were nothing more than a routine chore. The weight of my new reality pressed down on me, a crushing burden that threatened to suffocate my spirit. 

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For days following that strange morning, Aegon avoided me entirely. It was a welcome reprieve, a respite from the forced intimacy and simmering resentment that had become the hallmark of our marriage. Yet, a strange unease settled over me, a disquiet I couldn't quite place. The rising tensions with Rhaenyra, who, after her departure from the keep and the death of our father, had crowned herself Queen, cast a long shadow over King's Landing. My own place as Queen felt like an empty placeholder, a hollow title devoid of any real power. Nobles were choosing sides, the familiar few declaring for Aegon while others clung to Rhaenyra, their loyalty unwavering. I couldn't blame them. I didn't want this title, this gilded cage of responsibility. In fact, it exhausted me. 

A pervasive fatigue clung to me like a shroud, draining my energy and leaving me perpetually exhausted. The simplest tasks felt like monumental efforts, and I found myself retreating to the solitude of my chambers more often than not. I spent countless hours lost in the rhythmic motions of embroidery, the intricate patterns a welcome distraction from the turmoil within. Helaena's children, with their innocent laughter and boundless energy, offered a brief escape from the oppressive atmosphere of the Red Keep. I would lose myself in their games, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the darkness that clouded my own existence. 

I was forbidden to ride Solayre, the disquiet in the realm deemed too dangerous for the Queen to be seen on dragonback, or so my mother claimed. But I didn't argue. The truth was, the smell of the dragonpit, the sulfur that clung to my clothes, had been unsettling me lately. It turned my stomach, settled deep in my head, and sparked headaches that lasted for hours, even after a brief visit to the great maroon beast. 

This morning was like all the others, awoken with stomach pains and a pounding headache. I needed to eat, I assured myself, or maybe a bit of fresh air.  

The morning light, filtered through the stained glass windows of the Red Keep, cast long, ethereal shadows across the stone floors. I had been dressed in another stifling gown, this one a deep emerald green that mirrored the resentment simmering within me. My hair, braided tightly off my neck in a futile attempt to combat the oppressive heat, felt like a crown of thorns. As was my custom, I made my way to break my fast with Helaena in her chambers, a sanctuary of normalcy in the chaotic world we inhabited. 

A pang of envy always struck me as I traversed the west wing towards her rooms. Helaena and Aemond, despite their eccentricities, shared a bond of effortless affection, a stark contrast to the cold and sterile union I endured with Aegon. Theirs was a love story whispered in secret smiles and shared glances, a refuge from the harsh realities of courtly life. 

My head throbbed with a familiar ache as I reached her door. The Kingsguard stationed outside opened it with a silent nod, and I stepped inside, my gaze downcast as I passed through the empty antechamber and into the solar beyond. The sounds of children's laughter, a symphony of innocent joy, filled the air, momentarily lifting my spirits. 

But the smile that touched my lips faltered as I entered the solar. Aemond and Aegon stood near the large windows, their voices low and conspiratorial. The sight of them, their presence an unwelcome intrusion into my peaceful routine, sparked a flicker of annoyance. 

The children, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension, rushed towards me with excited squeals. Maelor, the youngest, reached me first, his chubby arms outstretched, his small voice demanding to be lifted. 

"Alright, alright, my darling," I cooed, scooping him into my arms. I forced a smile, trying to mask my irritation at the disruption. Aegon and Aemond fell silent, their gazes fixed on me, but I ignored them, my attention focused on the children. 

"Mother says that Dreamfyre lay three new eggs, just yesterday!" Jaehaera exclaimed, her violet eyes wide with excitement, her white-gold curls bouncing with each word. 

"A hatchling for each of you then, my girl," I replied, gently stroking her hair. Maelor, sensing a rival for my attention, tugged at my sleeve, his babbling demands bringing a genuine smile to my lips. 

Helaena appeared then, her presence calming the children's excitement. She ushered the twins towards their governess, but I held onto Maelor, his small form a comforting weight in my arms. 

With Helaena's arrival, the pretense of ignoring my brothers was no longer possible. I turned towards them, a sigh escaping my lips. "Hello, brother," I said to Aemond, garnering his attention for a fleeting moment before his gaze returned to Helaena, his eyes filled with warmth. I shifted my focus to Aegon, who was already staring at me, his face an impassive mask, his eyes fixated on the babe in my arms. "Husband," I acknowledged, my voice flat and emotionless. 

He met my gaze with a curt nod, but remained silent. I turned back to Maelor, his presence a welcome distraction from the tension that crackled in the room. He babbled on, his small hands reaching for my face, his dark amethyst eyes sparkling with innocent curiosity. Servants entered and exited, bearing trays laden with food. The rich aromas, once tempting, now churned my stomach, sending a wave of nausea through me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to gag. 

I ignored the laden table, content with my time with the small child. I bounced him on my hip, humming a soft lullaby until he wiggled out of my arms and followed his siblings' departure with his wet nurse. With a sigh, I turned towards the table of food, my stomach churning at the sight of the rich and varied dishes. I forced myself to pick at a few grapes and nibble on some bread, hoping to quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. 

"So, this is where you slink off to every morning," Aegon's voice sounded far too close to my ear, his sudden presence startling me. I glanced over my shoulder, and there he was, his conversation with Aemond abandoned, his gaze fixed on me. I clenched my jaw, my eyes falling to the platters of food, a desperate attempt to avoid his scrutiny. 

"If I'm lucky enough to be unnoticed," I murmured bitterly, still annoyed by his intrusion. He huffed, a small exhale through his nose that sent a stray strand of hair dancing across my neck. 

"Have I interrupted?" he asked smugly, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. He reached around me, his chest brushing against my back for a fleeting moment as he plucked an orange from the table. The warmth of his body, the subtle scent of his cologne, sent a shiver down my spine. 

The strong citrus smell of the orange filled the air, triggering a wave of nausea. I dry heaved, stumbling away from him, my gaze fixed on the offending fruit. 

He snorted, a cruel amusement in his eyes. "Do you suddenly hate oranges?" 

"They smell rotten," I complained, my hand flying to my mouth. 

He brought the fruit to his nose, inhaling deeply. "They smell fine," he declared with a shrug, popping a slice into his mouth. He leaned in, the juice glistening on his lips, the scent invading my senses. "Want a taste?" 

I recoiled, pushing against his chest, my hand landing on the firm muscles beneath his doublet. "Don't torment me," I hissed, my voice laced with both disgust and a strange, unwelcome flicker of desire. 

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down my spine. He straightened, a smug grin playing on his lips, and returned to Aemond. They departed shortly after, leaving me alone with the remnants of my uneaten breakfast and the lingering scent of oranges, a cruel reminder of my husband's mocking presence. 

The nausea subsided, but a sense of unease lingered. Aegon's unexpected appearance, his playful torment, and the unsettling sensations within my own body left me feeling off-kilter, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. I pushed the food away, my appetite completely vanished, and retreated to the solitude of my chambers, seeking refuge from the oppressive atmosphere of the Red Keep and the unwelcome attention of my husband. 

My refuge of solace didn’t last long however, the oppressive heat of the room seemed to intensify with every passing moment, the heavy fabric of my gown clinging to my skin like a second, suffocating layer. "Roslin, help me please," I called out, my voice thick with discomfort. My lady's maid rose from her seat by the window, where she had been meticulously sewing lace fringe onto a forgotten kerchief. With practiced ease, she unlaced the back of my gown, each tug of her fingers allowing a welcome breath of cool air to reach my sweat-dampened skin. I sighed in relief, but even with the constricting garment removed, the heat remained oppressive. Sweat beaded on my forehead, the back of my neck, and between my breasts. I panted, my hands gripping the bedpost, knuckles white with exertion. 

"Perhaps, my lady should rest," Roslin offered softly. 

With a begrudging nod, I allowed her to guide me to the bed. The cool sheets offered little respite from the sweltering heat that seemed to emanate from within my own body. Roslin settled on the floor beside the bed, ready to attend to my needs, but I shook my head. 

"You may go, Roslin." 

She looked as if she might argue, but with a small curtsy, she obeyed, the soft click of the closing door marking her departure. 

I lay in the bed, the oppressive heat clinging to me like a second skin. Sleep, when it finally came, was fitful and fragmented, plagued by strange dreams and unsettling sensations. I woke with a jolt, my stomach churning with a violent urgency. I scrambled from the sweat-soaked sheets, my legs unsteady, my head swimming. I lurched towards the chamber pot, but it was too late. 

I doubled over, my hands gripping the bedpost for support, my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat. A wave of nausea overwhelmed me, and I retched, the contents of my stomach spilling onto the cold stone floor. The acrid smell filled the air, mingling with the cloying scent of my own perspiration. 

I heard the door creak open, and assuming it was Roslin returning, I groaned, waving a weak hand in her direction. A hesitant hand touched my back, a gesture of comfort that did little to ease my distress. 

"It must've been the wine," I rasped, my voice hoarse and shaky as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. 

"Where is your lady's maid?" a deep, annoyed voice boomed from behind me. It was not Roslin. 

I froze, slowly raising my head to meet Aegon's gaze. He stood above me, his expression a mixture of reluctant concern and barely concealed disgust. I blinked; my mind still clouded by nausea. 

"I dismissed her. I was resting," I managed to explain. 

He scoffed, moving towards me with a purpose that startled me. His hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me towards the bed. He forced me to sit, his touch firm but not unkind. His proximity, however, brought a fresh wave of nausea. The cloying scent of oranges, still clinging to him from his morning meal, assaulted my senses. "You reek," I complained, leaning away from him. 

He made a noise of annoyance, but released me, tossing a linen sheet over the mess I had made on the floor. He was uncharacteristically silent, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed. 

"Perhaps we should call the Maesters," I groaned, rubbing my face with the back of my hand. 

He scoffed, looking down at me with an expression that bordered on disbelief. "There's no need," he said, his tone dismissive. 

I glared at him; my eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm obviously ill, Aegon." 

He rolled his eyes, his stance mocking. "You can't be that dense, Clemynsia" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You are not ill." 

"I am—" 

"Maybe you are this dense," he interrupted, his voice a low growl. "When did you last bleed?" 

His question, so unexpected, so blunt, caught me off guard. "What?" I stammered, my cheeks flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with the oppressive temperature of the room. 

"For fuck's sake," he sighed, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Your last moon’s blood, when was it?" 

His words pierced through the fog of my nausea, silencing all other thoughts. My mind went blank, the world around me fading into a hazy blur. I felt a strange detachment from my own body, as if I were an observer, watching the scene unfold from a distance. 

Aegon leaned closer, his hand gently brushing the damp hair from my forehead. The touch, surprisingly tender, sent a shiver down my spine. "You are not ill," he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with a hint of mockery. He stood, running a hand over his face in exasperation. "You are with child."