#alice journal of asks

[bezslutpiercing]

what is the likelyhood of you being concerned about me and adora ever cooking together- like i would be incharge of actually cooking the food and she’d get to chop and season the food-

I would probably have you arrested before you could even get close to a kitchen knife or an ingredient

[calithso]

NATLAN TEASER... HRRJAKZ. SSDSM

HOT.. AOMEN

OHHHHHH MYGOD. THE WOMEN?!??? THE DESIGNS???? HELLO????? MY PRIMOGEMS ARE GONE. I'VE ALREADY 100% EVERY NATION. NATLAN YOU'RE NEXT

i can't do this is it bad i love their designs i'm sorry 💔

also mauvika biker gf real

[alicewritten]

In the most recent Ask Polly, “Passion Requires Slow Cultivation”:

[susiephone]

i just finished rereading "unmask alice" by rick emerson and am once again ready to resurrect beatrice sparks just so i can fight her personally. though tbh i feel like the fair thing would to be resurrect alden barrett's mother too and let her take a crack at her.

[victorluvsalice]

Valice Calendar: If It Wasn't Official Before Then, It Sure Was Official Then

Wondering what I'm talking about? Well, we've reached one of the last couple of dates to celebrate on my Valice( r) Calendar -- specifically, this is the first mention I could find of one of my Alice muses for LJ RP calling one of my Victor muses her "boyfriend." The context for this one was that I was doing a personal "88 Advent" fic-a-thon for my LJ of stories of 88 words in the days leading up to Christmas, and the fic for that day was a meta one featuring one of my Marty muses encountering my new Alice muse (who was intended for "Beyond The Rift," the game I mentioned back on the "thinking of fanfic" day) having just made gingerbread. And being suspicious of said gingerbread as she'd made it under the tutelage of Ms. Plum from Corpse Bride. XD At any rate, this is what I wrote immediately under the fic:

Yes, this is FuturePossibleRift!Alice, who insists on hanging around my head. -Alice: Well, my boyfriend's here!- -Rift!Victor: pleased blush-

So yeah -- I was definitely shipping it beforehand, but this was probably the final nail in the coffin of me ever trying to get free of this ship again. Victor was Alice's boyfriend, and that was that. And it's been that ever since. :) Really glad I never convinced myself this was a horrible ship -- it's been a real source of joy in my life over the past fifteen years. And I'm glad so many of you seem to enjoy it as well. Here's hoping for many more. :)

[heroineimages]

Do you like Alice in Wonderland?

It's okay. I haven't seen the cartoon in a long time, or read the book in even longer. Though I'll always love Sterling Holloway's wonderfully creepy performance as the Cheshire Cat. I also remember seeing a live-action one from like the '70's that gave me nightmares as a little kid.

Thanks for the ask!

[drdemonprince]

I worry that today’s generation of kids on the internet have never gotten to develop much digital agency or form safe, empowering relationships with older people. More broadly, I think our current culture of isolating children from all unrelated adults, supposedly in the name of their “protection” only causes them to become more ignorant, lonesome, and vulnerable to exploitation.

There are many ways in which restricting youth access to information technology and training adults to avoid all contact with children makes kids even more powerless and dependent.

If a child cannot post their sexual health questions on Ask Alice or go searching around online, then they have to believe whatever they hear from their parent or priest. If a young person longs to taste the freedoms of adulthood but aren’t given any room to explore, then the grown-up in their DMs telling them that they are so mature becomes a hell of a lot more seductive.

And if a kid never gets to search for sexual content online, learn about adult sexual experiences, or touch themselves and find pleasure in the privacy of their own minds, they may never fully learn that their body is them, for them to enjoy and express themselves however they see fit.

For queer youth, the dangers of isolation are amplified. A study published in the journal Child Protection and Practice in April of last year found that LGBTQI+ children face an elevated risk of grooming and sexual abuse because they are discriminated against by peers, preached against within their religious communities, and mistreated or kicked out of the house by their families — and also, because an adult with no respect for boundaries might be the only person offering to talk with them about queerness or sex.

It’s very difficult to know the difference between a healthy relationship and exploitation when a predatory adult is the first queer person a kid ever knows. If a relationship with an abuser is the only way that a teen ever gets to live out their queerness or explore their budding sexuality, then it becomes immensely difficult for them to walk away — leaving the groomer is like tearing off a crucial part of themselves that never gets expressed otherwise, or even seen.

This is also true of children who have the early rumblings of kinky sexualities, too — when you long to be controlled or tied up, you need a safe outlet to learn and fantasize about doing such things consensually one day. If you do not know that such options exist, you’ll settle instead for abuse. The more options that a child has to learn about sexual practices, to meet other queer people of ages, and to form appropriate relationships with unrelated adults, the harder they become to manipulate, and the more power they have to walk away.

...

Being a minor is a position created by legal oppression, but most people consider a minor’s lack of freedom to be so natural and morally correct they don’t even recognize it as oppression. Instead, they see it as protection, a healthy separation between the world of the human and the not-quite-human yet. Though they would never admit it, a minor is not the same thing as a person to them, for a minor can be thrown out of public spaces, locked away, silenced, disregarded, and left to rot in the ways full persons are not.

I believe that we queer adults are failing our younger siblings by refusing to play a part in raising and looking after them. We have chosen to privilege our individual safety from accusations of ‘inappropriate’ conduct over the need for queer youth to see their own sexualities and identities normalized, envision a diversity of possible futures for themselves, and seek aid and understanding when they are mistreated.

For those of us who’ve had the liberty to escape our ignorant hometowns, get on HRT, have joyous gay sex in dark rooms, or even just dance tenderly with a sexy androgynous stranger’s cheek pressed against our own, we have a responsibility to pour from our filled cups, and to remember what it was like to have no such access. As terrified as we are of losing our documentation, our access to medicine, and our legal rights, we must remember those queer people who presently have none of those things, and do all that we can to extend our aid to them.

I wrote about the troubling culture of the "MINORS DNI" bio, and how it contributes to the mass isolation of young queer people. You can read the full piece or have it narrated to you by the substack app for free here.

[trueccfiend]

songs, albums, and artists mentioned by eric and dylan

Eric

KMFDM

- “KMFDM is a favorite of mine” he said in his 25 things essay.

- He writes the song title "Kein Mitlied"

- He writes the lyrics to the songs "Son of a Gun", “Waste" and "Stray Bullet”

- Eric quoted Anarchy in Nate Dykeman's yearbook

- He also quoted Dogma in Dylan's yearbook

- Eric wore a black KMFDM shirt for their 1997 album and tour “Symbols”.

A crazy coincidence, the album “Adios” was released on April 20, 1999, the same day as the Columbine massacre. Adios, meaning “goodbye”, is eerily reminiscent of how 15 people died, including the two shooters, who were fans of the band.

RAMMSTEIN

- Like with KMFDM there is evidence Eric translated lyrics to the following Rammstein songs: Du Hast Du Riechst So Gut, Engle, Guilty, Herzleid, Kokain, Heirate Mich, Buck Dich, Tier, Bestrafe Mich, Klavier, Wilder Wein, Weises Fleisch.

- Eric also had a Rammstein sticker in the rear window of his car and had a Rammstein T-Shirt on in his Junior year school picture

OTHER

- Eric referred to the Nine Inch Nails song “Closer” in his journal during a rant about wanting violent sex with a woman, and that it was the "perfect song for me" in November 1998.

- Eric writes in 'You know what I love' rant that he loved The Prodigy

- Eric left the "Fly CD" to Susan in his will during one of the Basement Tapes (Fly - Bombthreat Before She Blows)

- There was a sketch found in one of Eric Harris's notebooks that referenced “Ich Bin Ein Auslander” by Pop Will Eat Itself

Dylan.

CHEMICAL BROTHERS

- Dylan writes "Chemical Brothers" in his journal. He references "Loops of Fury", a Chemical Brothers EP

- Lyrics to the song "Guilty by Gravity Kills" are printed in his journal.

- Dylan writes "Life is sweet Daft Punk Mix" - Daft Punk remix of Chemical Brothers - Life Is Sweet

- Dylan writes “Chicos Groove – The Chemical Brothers” in his journal.

- Dylan wore a red Chemical Brothers shirt with a rainbow across the chest for their song “Setting Sun.” He also wore a grey Chemical Brothers shirt for their album “Dig Your Own Hole”.

NINE INCH NAILS

- Dylan writes ‘NIN’ Nine Inch Nails at the bottom of his journal

- He mentions "Downward Spiral", the NIN album, and often draws spirals in his journal and in his school planner

- He mentions the song Hurt

- Dylan is seen wearing a grey NIN shirt for their album “The Downward Spiral” towards the end of the “Eric at Columbine” home video.

- Dylan also references other NIN songs such as "Now I'm Nothing", “Happiness in Slavery”, “Something I can never have", and “Piggy".

OTHER

- In his planner, Dylan writes “I’m not a trendy asshole don’t give a fuck if its good enuf for you”. These are lyrics from The Offspring song “Smash”

- Dylan quoted the lyrics from “Beautiful” by the Smashing Pumpkins. He also owned their album “Siamese Dream.” (Fun Fact: Eric disliked the Smashing Pumpkin, and jokingly referred to them as the “Ghashing Bumpkins”).

- "Rammstein" is mentioned in Dylans journal. One of the boys purchased "Stripped" CD.

- Dylan writes "KMFDM - Brute" in his journal. He also wore a KMFDM shirt for their album XTORT in his “interview.”

- White Zombie - Black Sunshine: Dylan writes that this song should be played over the "hate" section of his website.

- They Might Be Giants - Particle Man: Dylan wrote for it to be played over the "hacking" section of his webpage

- Alice In Chains - I Stay Away: Dylan wrote that this was to be played over the "other cool mus." section of his webpage.

- 2Pac - Hit 'Em Up - the lyrics are written (incorrectly) in Dylan's school planner.

THE MARILYN MANSON DEBATE

Did Eric and Dylan actually listen to Marilyn Manson? Friends of the two boys have denied that they were fans of his. And while there is no actual evidence to suggest that they did listen to his music, Dylan did have a poster of him in his room.

“Mrs. Klebold indicated that Dylan had a poster of Marilyn Manson and that she asked him about it, and in particular asked him what it meant. Dylan had told her that it didn't mean anything and that he didn't really listen to lyrics of Marilyn Manson music, however, did listen to the music.” (Columbine; Jeff Kass).

Additionally, Eric apparently did sometimes listen to Manson, given that he had written M.M- initials in his journal.

This behaviour seems kind of odd for people who “weren’t fans” of at least SOME of Marilyn Mansons music, but I digress.

[hrrtshape]

⠀ ⠀welcome to the manifesting seance club.

sit down. no, seriously, sit. the spirits are pacing. the stars are staring. you’re being perceived in real time.

AHEM. before we begin, a moment of academic showboating: the knowledge i am about to graciously, magnanimously, almost divinely bestow upon you has been extracted from sources so reputable, so critically esteemed, that to ignore them would be akin to walking past the oracle at delphi and asking a guy named kevin for directions instead. sources such as . . . ୨୧

" esoteric astrology " by alice a. bailey " the astrology of fate " by liz greene " saturn : a new look at an old devil " by liz greene " hellenistic astrology : the study of fate and fortune " by chris brennan

all of which are required reading if you want to, you know, actually know things. otherwise, feel free to just wing it. people have built entire careers off of significantly less.

anyway, welcome to manifesting séance club. which is to say, a completely necessary and not at all ridiculous initiative in which i, with the help of the cosmos, will deign to tell you exactly how you should be manifesting based on your zodiac sign. you can take this with the weight of divine scripture, or you can take it with a large, gratuitous grain of salt and see this as entertainment only. either way, the planets have spoken.

 　　. . . now, let’s see what they say about you

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐚ries⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : aries manifests like they’re storming the beaches of normandy. it’s not a process, it’s an ambush. every morning, a new battle plan scrawled on a napkin, ripped in half by noon. immediate results or nothing at all. there’s no patience for the slow drip of reality conforming to their will. they want tectonic shifts, they want fireworks, they want god himself to clock in some overtime.

fate’s verdict : cosmic tantrum. they don’t wait for the stars to align, they drag them into formation. but the universe prefers the long game, and aries does not. the lesson here is simple . . . it will happen, but not in the way you’re trying to force it. stop manifesting like you’re throwing grenades into the void.

⠀꒰ prescription : let go. just a little. just enough to let the universe breathe. ⠀manifestation is not a hostage situation.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐭aurus⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : taurus manifests like an investment banker, a landowner, a careful deity counting their coins before distributing miracles. they do not believe in asking the universe for favours without putting down collateral, vision boards, rituals, journals so thick they could stop a bullet. the future is built in increments, brick by brick. manifestation as empire-building.

fate’s verdict : a little too grounded, a little too rational. taurus sometimes mistakes manifestation for a to-do list rather than an act of faith. this is the hill they will die on, ledger in hand.

⠀꒰ prescription : loosen the grip. manifestation isn’t a contract, you don’t need a ⠀cosigner. ask. then trust that it’s being worked out somewhere beyond your ⠀jurisdiction.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐠emini⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : gemini manifests like a conspiracy theorist with a corkboard full of red string. everything is possible, every reality is within reach. they could be a doctor, a poet, a movie star, a revolutionary, sometimes all in the same afternoon. the problem is the sheer velocity of belief. one day they’re visualising love, the next they’ve decided celibacy is the key to enlightenment. their manifestations lack consistency, collapsing under their own contradictions.

fate’s verdict : too many tabs open. gemini’s mind is a quantum superposition of possibilities, but the universe prefers clarity. pick a lane. stay in it.

⠀꒰ prescription : write it down. once. no revisions. stick to it for longer than a week.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐜ancer⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : cancer manifests like a poet in a garret, talking into the dark, hoping the cosmos is listening. emotions are the currency, nostalgia the driving force. manifestation as longing. as a half-forgotten song. they dream in sepia tones, in candlelight and old film reels. they don’t just want something, they want to be consumed by it.

fate’s verdict : beautiful. but manifestation is an act of creation, not just yearning alone.

⠀꒰ prescription : clarify the vision. make it real, tangible, specific. want, but also ⠀act.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐥eo⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : leo manifests like a celebrity giving an acceptance speech before the award has even been announced. they assume the universe is their audience, their stage, their greatest admirer. naturally, their manifestations are grand, cinematic, dripping with self-belief. they don’t request, they declare. they don’t doubt, they expect.

fate’s verdict : they’re not wrong, but sometimes they rely too much on the applause. the universe doesn’t care about the optics, it cares about the energy behind them. manifestation is not performance art.

⠀꒰ prescription : make sure you want it for you. not for the audience, not for the ⠀applause, not for the standing ovation. just for you.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐯irgo⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : virgo manifests like an engineer drafting blueprints for god. meticulous, precise, airtight. a plan within a plan within a plan. they don’t just manifest . . . they optimise. they find flaws in their own dreams before they’ve even begun, tweaking and adjusting, searching for perfection before the universe even has a chance to deliver.

fate’s verdict : manifestation requires some degree of surrender. virgo’s approach is admirable, but they risk micromanaging the cosmos. control is an illusion. perfection is a myth.

⠀꒰ prescription : stop editing the vision. let it breathe. let it live.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐥ibra⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : libra manifests like an artist with too many unfinished canvases. they want everything, in all its beauty, but they can never quite decide what to ask for. they spend more time weighing options than actually committing to a vision. manifestation as a game of what-if.

fate’s verdict : indecision is the enemy. the universe responds to clarity, not hesitation. a wish half-made is a wish unheard.

⠀꒰ prescription : pick something. anything. stick to it. see it through.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐬corpio⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : scorpio manifests like a sorcerer muttering in a locked room, like an old god stirring in its sleep. manifestation as alchemy. as transformation. their will is absolute, their focus terrifying. they do not just ask for what they want, they become it.

fate’s verdict : powerful, but isolating. scorpio sometimes forgets that manifestation doesn’t have to be a solitary act, that the universe is not an adversary but an accomplice.

⠀꒰ prescription : soften. let it in. manifestation is not a lone pursuit.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐬agittarius⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : sagittarius manifests like an explorer mapping out an undiscovered country. they see possibility everywhere, in every corner of the universe. their manifestations are broad, open-ended, half-prayers, half-dares. they don’t demand, they leap.

fate’s verdict : good energy, unfocused. sagittarius needs to narrow the scope, sharpen the vision.

⠀꒰ prescription : be specific. manifestation is not a vague wish upon a star.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐜apricorn⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : capricorn manifests like an architect designing a cathedral that will take centuries to complete. slow, steady, methodical. they don’t just wish; they work. they lay foundations while others are still drafting dreams.

fate’s verdict : excellent, but exhausting. capricorn sometimes forgets that manifestation is not solely an act of labour. effort is crucial, but so is belief.

⠀꒰ prescription : trust. allow for miracles. not everything requires blood, sweat, and ⠀spreadsheets.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐚quarius⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : aquarius manifests like a mad scientist in a laboratory of their own making. their visions are radical, their ideas borderless. they do not want what others want. their manifestations often seem impossible until, suddenly, they’re not.

fate’s verdict : brilliant, but scattered. aquarius has a habit of overcomplicating what should be simple. manifestation is not always a revolution.

⠀꒰ prescription : simplify. sometimes the best way forward is the obvious one.

⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀⠀ 𝐩isces⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

omen : pisces manifests like a dreamer lost in their own reverie. manifestation as fantasy, as daydream, as an ethereal whisper into the cosmos. they believe in miracles, in divine intervention, in the soft hand of fate guiding them.

fate’s verdict : beautiful, but passive. manifestation is co-creation, not just waiting for the stars to do the work.

⠀꒰ prescription : dream, but also know. the universe moves when you know.

[aemondsbabe]

The Queen

summary: dairy/letters & lingerie kink || alicent stumbles across a secret of yours and is more than happy to make it come true

pairing: modern!alicent x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, pre-established relationship, dom!Alicent, sub!reader, queen honorifics used in the bedroom, lingerie kink, use of a leather crop, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.3k

a/n: happy day seven of 12 days of smuff!! i went into a fugue state and wrote 10 pages in 2 hours. the hold that olivia cooke has on me should be studied by science. anyway.

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @olliviacooke

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Alicent’s POV

She was humming, swaying her hips to a new album she’d downloaded earlier that week as she smoothly moved the duster along the wooden surface of your nightstand, careful as she guided it between the lamp and the small potted plant you loved so much. Getting a bit too into the music she was listening to as she tidied up your shared bedroom, though, she accidentally bumped against the growing stack of books on your nightstand. 

“Shit!” Alicent hissed as a few went tumbling to the ground. Sighing, she bent down to grab them, half-heartedly cursing you for insisting on buying new books before you’d finished the ones you had. 

“Huh?” She wonders outloud, pausing the music on her phone when she sees her name scrawled in your familiar handwriting. Her fingers brush over the soft, leather bound book as she picks it up, her lips pursing as she reads the words “Personal Journal” embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering. Her brown eyes widen and quickly glance around the room, despite the fact that she knows she’s the only one home. Biting her lip, she runs a finger over the spine of your diary, weighing her options. On the one hand, she knew it would be a horrible invasion of your privacy to look but… well, what if it was something important? 

She shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t going to be one of those snooping partners! You already told her everything anyway, it’s not like there would be anything in your diary she didn’t already know! You were basically an open book, in fact, it was one of the things she loved most about you – your willingness to be so honest and transparent. 

No, she thought, carefully setting the diary back on your bedside table, I’m not going to! I’m simply – 

Okay, sue her. She’s only human and her name was right there! She’d make it up to you. 

Glancing around one more time, she flipped open the leather-bound book, flipping through it to the page she’d spotted a moment ago. She found it pretty quickly and nervously bit on a nail as her eyes scanned over the page, noticing the date first. It was from only about a week ago. She read on.

I’m not even sure how to bring up the topic, it doesn’t really seem like something you’d just bring up at the dinner table? Like, “Oh, honey, yeah work was great today! Kevin from accounting is finally getting married, I know! Can you believe it? Oh. yeah, one more thing! Can you boss me around in the bedroom like a drill sergeant?” I mean, come on. 

What if she isn’t even into it? What if she wants to be the submissive one? I don’t think Alicent’s totally vanilla, I mean, there have been so many sparks of… something. Sometimes she tells me to do something, usually innocuous like making sure the door’s locked before we leave or to get the laundry hamper from the closet but… God, the way she says it makes me shiver. And when she’s talking on the phone to someone at work? That authoritative voice makes me melt. 

Sigh. I just need to find the courage to ask. 

Alicent finally finished the entry and looked up from your journal, blinking as thoughts raced through her head. After a minute, she closed the notebook and placed it carefully back on your bedside table, just like it was before it fell off the table. 

She could barely keep the smirk off her face as she grabbed her purse and keys and shut the front door behind her, a devious, delicious plan quickly forming in her head. 

She knew exactly how to make up for her actions. 

Reader’s POV

You sigh as you unlock the front door, quickly tossing your keys into the small bowl on the entryway table before kicking off your shoes.

“Babe?” You called, furrowing your brows at how unusually quiet the house was. Alicent’s car was in the driveway and normally she’d be playing music by the time you got home but today… nothing. You’re about to call out again when the sound of heels clicking down the hallway makes you stop in your tracks, your bag falls from your hand as your girlfriend finally appears from around the corner.

“Good day at work?” Alicent asks coolly, tilting her head as she leans against the doorway. Meanwhile, you feel dumbstruck as your eyes scan over her appreciatively, taking in every dip and curve as if you’d never seen any of them before. Your eyes skim over her outfit, a black, lacy bustier perfectly framing her chest, with a matching black thong clinging to her soft hips, fishnet stockings held up by an enticing garter belt, all the way down to black, pointed toe heels. She’d even taken the time to straighten her usually curly hair, smoothing it down into a clean, nearly intimidating style. 

She smirked, brown eyes sparkling at your awe-struck expression, smiling when your eyes finally landed on her face; you couldn’t help but swallow when you saw that she was wearing that expensive red lipstick she only brought out for special occasions, the one you love so much. 

Her heels click on the wood floors as she strides over to you and it’s only then you realize that she has something in her hand – a black leather crop. The sight of it makes your knees weak. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” she says gently, locking eyes with you as she gently cups your cheek with in her hand, “It would be rude not to answer.” There’s a hard edge to her voice that makes you lose what little train of thought you had.

“I… uh,” you stutter, blush rising to your cheeks as you stare helplessly at her, fighting to keep your gaze locked on hers, “W-Work was good, yeah. Same as… as usual.” You finally finish, your chest already heaving as you rub your thighs together, desperate before you even know what’s going on. 

“How wonderful,” she smirks and leans in, giving you a sweet kiss like she normally would, but today it has your head spinning, “What do you think of my little surprise?” She asks, though there isn’t really a question in her tone – she already knows your answer.

“I love it,” you breathe, hardly giving her time to finish speaking as you let your gaze wander over her yet again. “What, uhm,” you cough nervously, “What gave you the idea?”

She smiles again, shrugging; you nearly jump out of your skin when she softly runs the leather crop up the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and stopping tantalizingly close to your core. “Just got the sense that maybe you’d be into it…” She says casually, like you’re talking about the weather, “Was I right?”

All you can do is nod your head, but that’s not good enough, apparently. Her eyes narrow and she wraps a hand around your neck, not too harshly, mostly just sitting it there but it’s enough to make you whimper in the back of your throat, breath catching as her perfectly manicured red nails just barely dig into your delicate skin. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to address me, is it?” She coos, a faux pout to her lips. 

“N-No,” you say shakily, your eyes searching hers, “No… ma’am?” You try, inwardly cringing at how your voice squeaks. 

She clicks her tongue like a disappointed mother, the sound going straight between your legs, as she fixes you with an intense stare. “Baby, you know how I sometimes call you princess?” She asks, smiling proudly when you eagerly nod, “Well, tell me. Who’s more in charge than a princess?”

Your throat goes dry and you swallow thickly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips before speaking. “T-The queen?” You ask softly, pride feathering out in your chest like the train of a peacock when she smiles and nods again.

“That’s right!” She praises, almost as if she was speaking to a child; perhaps you should be offended at her condescending tone, but, if anything, it just makes your heart beat faster. “The queen. Do you want me to be your queen today, sweet one?” Again, you nod, so she continues. “So, address me properly.”

“Yes, my queen.” You breathe the words, core clenching softly around nothing. 

“Very good,” she praises, leaning in and lightly brushing her lips over the pulsepoint on your neck, “Do you want to keep being a good girl for your queen?”

“Yes, your grace, please.” You say with an eager nod, feeling like you’ll explode if she doesn’t touch you, or so something soon.

“Then be good for me and go to the bedroom,” she nods as she speaks, her big brown eyes looking directly into yours, “And strip.” She finishes coolly, leaving you no room to argue. 

You nod quickly and practically leap down the hallway, blushing when you hear her giggling behind you. As soon as your feet hit the soft rug in the bedroom, you tug at your clothes, quickly shedding your sweater and work trousers before unclipping your bra and sliding your underwear down your legs, haphazardly shoving everything into the hamper because you just know she’ll say something about the mess if you don’t. Finally, not knowing what else to do, you stand by the bed, arms clasped in front of you.

She doesn’t make you wait long and you bite your lip in anticipation as her heels click slowly down the hallway, smiling shyly when you finally meet her gaze again as she enters the room. Just like you knew she would, her eyes immediately dart to the hamper and her smile widens when she sees your clothes from today resting on top. 

“What a good girl I have,” she praises as she saunters over to you, her hips swinging enticingly as she moves. Without another word, she sits on the edge of the bed and gently places the crop down next to her on the bedspread, before she beckons you over with a crook of her finger, “You like your queen’s special surprise for you, huh?” She questions, tilting her head as she peers up at you, her hands resting gently on the curve of your hip. 

“Yes,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to her cleavage before you can help yourself and it’s only then that you notice that she’s breathing nearly as hard as you are, a blush extending down her pale neck and chest, “I love it, my queen, so much.” You nearly whisper, dizzy at the thought that she might be enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“Don’t you think you should thank me for your surprise, princess?” She asks coolly, smirk widening as she sees a look of realization in your eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, please,” you nearly beg, already tempted to sink to your knees.

She smirks at your eagerness, all but laughing when you whine as she pushes herself back further, out of your grasp and into the center of the bed, making enough room for you in front of her. Again, she crooks her finger and you hastily follow after her, kneeling between her fishnet-covered legs. With another smirk, she silently spreads her legs, bending them at the knee enough that the heels of her shoes dig into the bedspread. 

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as you let your gaze travel down, between her legs, where you’re met with the shocking realization that the black thong she has on is indeed crotchless. Your eyes stay glued to her center, now beautifully framed by two strips of lace fabric; the sight makes you lick your lips without thinking, taking in the way her folds shimmer, even in the low light of the bedroom. Finally, you manage to rip your gaze away and lock eyes with her again, your blush deepening at the hazy look in her eyes as she leans back on her elbows. 

“Go on, princess,” she breathes, that familiar, aroused rasp finally present, “Thank your queen.”

You spring into action, wrapping your hands around her soft thighs as you lean in, kneeling between her legs. Your eyes flutter as you look up the length of her body while you press soft, sweet kisses to the inside of her thighs, your eyes widening when you see her lean over and quickly grab the crop. 

You jolt as she brings it down, smacking one ass cheek with it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave behind a pleasant little zing. “I don’t believe I asked you to tease me,” she admonishes, a playfulness to her tone still as her other hand brushes into your hair, red nails scratching soothing against your scalp, “Thank me properly.” She commands, guiding your head to exactly where she wants it.

You’re more than happy to obey and you press a kiss to the center of her folds, right on her clit, moaning against her as you feel it twitch against your lips. She lets out a breathy moan as your tongue licks a long, straight line up her center, right down the middle, before your lips gently seal around her bud. 

Your eyes flutter closed again as you softly suck at her clit, moaning lowly in your throat at her familiar sweet taste. You move in just the way she likes, kissing and licking over her heat with a practiced ease, pride blooming in your chest with every moan, whine, and sigh of your name. You shake your head against her, attempting to bury your tongue in her twitching core as the tip of your nose teases her clit, your chin dripping with her when you finally pull back. 

“Princess, fuck,” she breathes above you, head tilted down so she can watch as you feast on her, “Fuck me, come on.” She orders, giving another sharp little spank to your bum with the crop. 

You do as she says, smiling as you flick your tongue over her bud while you glide two fingers through her folds, making sure to get them nice and wet before you slide them carefully into her, relishing the long moan she lets out as you do. You can’t help but whimper as her walls clamp down tightly, pulsing around your fingers as you crook them up in the way you know she loves, your lips sealing softly around her clit again, eyes fluttering as you watch her chest heave. 

“Good fucking girl,” she whimpers, accentuating each word of praise with another slap of her crop against you, the pleasant sting you clench around nothing, “Make your queen come, princess, good girl.” She moans, tilting her head back as you redouble your efforts. 

Your arm aches as you fuck your fingers into her, keeping them quirked up against that small rough patch within her, but you pay it no mind, focusing only on the hand in your hair and the taste of her in your mouth, your hips canting desperately in the air. 

You flick your tongue against her bud once more, in just the right way, and it sends her over the edge with a gasp. You moan into her as the hand in your hair tightens and her walls rhythmically squeeze against your fingers, nearly tight enough to push them out. You move steadily, bringing her through her high as you have so many times before, only stopping when she finally goes lax against you. 

You press kisses against her thighs and hips as she comes down, breathing heavily above you. Eventually, the hand in your hair tightens once more, and you sigh happily as she pulls you up. 

“You did so good,” she praises softly, her voice breathy as she presses her lips against yours; she moans softly as your tongue licks into her mouth before she pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, “So good for your queen, my sweet princess.” You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as you straddle her, one of her legs between yours.

Your eyes shoot open as she bends her leg, pressing her fishnet covered thigh firmly against your center with a knowing smirk. “Goodness,” she gasps, her beautiful brown eyes widening once she feels how wet you are against her, “I think you deserve a reward too, for treating your queen so well.”

“Please, holy shit,” you gasp, your hips already moving on her leg, the pattern of her stockings adding a delicious friction, “P-Please, your grace.” You quickly correct yourself when she brings her crop down once more, making your back arch. 

“Good girl,” she whispers, mouthing at your neck. She lets the crop fall to the bed again as she cups your ass with both hands, guiding your hips as you move against her, “Take what you need, princess, you earned it.” She breathes, smirking as you shudder above her. 

You nod mindlessly, swallowing thickly as you already feel the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, each drag of your clit over her stockinged thigh sends shockwaves up your spine. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier as you get closer and she smiles happily, bouncing her thigh against your wet core in the way she knows drives you insane. 

“My beautiful little princess,” she whispers, red lips ghosting over your chest, “Behaving so well for her queen.” 

You fall apart once her lips seal around one of your nipples, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as she carefully sucks the sensitive bud into her mouth, gently teasing at it with her teeth. Your body tenses up as your walls clench again and again, your fingers grabbing at the sheets as you gasp her name. 

Finally, your eyes flutter open as your high subsides. Thankfully, you have just enough presence of mind to roll to the side, cuddling against her as your chest heaves. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe through a small laugh, your face flushed as your eyes meet hers. 

“So, you liked it?” She asks, a shy lilt to her voice now that both of you have had the chance to come down. 

“Liked it?” You question, staring at her wide-eyed, “I… I loved it. That was incredible.” You breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, “Where on earth did all that come from?”

She giggles softly, a guilty look appearing on her face. “Promise you won’t be too upset with me?” She asks softly. 

“Of course,” your reply is instant as you card your fingers through her soft hair, “Just tell me.”

“I was cleaning a few days ago, when I had that day off,” she explains, swallowing as you nod along, “And I… may have accidentally knocked your diary off the table and then got curious when I saw my name and… yeah.” She finishes, teeth biting at her lower lip. 

Your face reddens a bit, instantly knowing which entry she must’ve seen, but you merely shake your head, about to tell her not to worry about it when she starts speaking again.

“I do feel really bad about it,” she sighs, continuing quickly, “I know it’s a breach of trust but I saw my name and then… I’ll make it up to you, I pr – !” 

She gasps as you cut her off with a sweet kiss, shaking your head dismissively, “Consider it made up.” 

“You aren’t mad?” She asks hesitantly.

“Mad?” You echo, laughing softly, “My sexy girlfriend bought ridiculously hot lingerie, and a riding crop, just to surprise me and fucked me to within an inch of my life and I’m supposed to be mad at her over a little diary?” Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles as you finally finish, nuzzling happily against each other, “I think not.” You quip, smirking as your eyes search hers. 

“Okay, yeah,” she says with a small eye roll, “I am pretty great, huh?”

“And oh so humble,” you laugh, pressing kisses over the curve of her shoulder before leaning back to smirk at her, “Your majesty.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[bezslutpiercing]

23 with rosquez

23. Did they hurt you?

When Vale learns about people breaking into Marc's home after what he said about it he feels like a meteor just hit him at full force.

He knows his fans are loyal and almost cult-like followers but this is definitely not what he thought could've happened after a press con.

Yes he was angry, fuming even, because Marc had just costed hima championship but - he never would've thought people could be this insane.

He wants to text Marc, tell him he's sorry that happened.

A clean, short message.

Just to get it off his chest.

But vale knows Marc, he knows his mind and how stupidly stubborn that boy is. He knows if he got hurt he didn't tell anyone and is probably still hurting.

And yeah maybe he shouldn't care, not after what Marc did, but something deep in his chest wants him to go, check on Marc, talk to him.

When he sneaks into Marc's motorhome that evening he thanks no one is inside, there was a really high chance Alex was gonna be there, and the younger never had a particular liking for Vale.

The only person present in the motorhome is Marc.

He's sat on his bed, shirtless and sad.

He looks - Vale doesn't decipher his eyes, there's a layer of something he cannot quite understand.

Even from the distance he can see the bruise, on his arm, ugly blue and purple fading to yellow on the edges.

Marc is wincing in pain as he applies what Vale supposes to be arnica or something similar.

There's a pack of ice on the nightstand, it's leaking, probably been there for longer than it was supposed to be.

He doesn't think about announcing his break-in, and he realizes a bit too late he's made a mistake.

He opens the door fully and he steps in, but when he does he's met with a terrified Marc, who curls up and hides his face.

"Marc it's me"

How fucking stupid can he be?

People just broke into his house and he comes in here like this.

When Marc notices he sits straight up, the twitch in the corner of his eyes a signal he's in pain, but doesn't want to show.

He's calming his breath down, trying to erase the moment that just passed.

"I uhm"

"What? You wanted to congratulate your dogs for entering my home and fucking it up?"

"No no Marc I-I wanted to say I'm sorry this happened"

"Mh. And why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm sorry"

"Yeah ok and if I tell you I didn't act on purpose to make you loose the championship what would yo say?"

"I wouldn't believe you, Marc this is a different thing-"

"What a fucking hypocrite. You want me to believe you but you wouldn't believe me if you had proofs in front of you"

"I - Marc this is not why I came here I just wanted to say I'm sorry about what happened"

"To say sorry? Sorry doesn't fix anything Valentino. They broke in. They broke things, they - they wrote on the fucking wall. Do you know what they shouted when I came back home, before breaking in?"

Vale's mind is running. No he doesn't know what they shouted, and he's not sure he wants to.

"They called me Lorenzo's little bitch. Reminds you of something someone else said? Oh yes. It's what you said to your journalist friends"

Vale is far again, heartbeat in his ears, Marc's eyes clearly full of tears but proudly holding them back.

His attention is brought back by the bruise.

it's still there, ugly as before, must be really fucking painful.

Then he notices another one, fading, and his stomach drops.

The one on the arm was bad already, it was done to hurt for sure but the second one.

It's. It's scary.

Around Marc's neck there's the faint line of a hand squeezing it with too much force.

He wants to get closer to Marc, hug him to reassure him but he knows he would scare him away if he did.

So he asks, because it's all he can do.

"Did they hurt you?"

The tone shakes something inside Marc. A weakness, a desire to be comforted and held. But he doesn't give into it. Because it was Vale's fault if that crazy man grabbed him by the hand and when he freed himself did the same at his neck.

He still feels the hand around it, the sheer panic he felt for the five seconds it lasted, before others got him far from that hold.

So he scoffs. Doesn't look at Vale because if he did he would meet his gaze, which guessing by his tone is of pity.

And Marc Marquez doesn't accept pity.

"Would you care?"

And Vale is stunned. He knows Marc thinks he hates him, because he's done everything to make it look like that.

But. He didn't think Marc thought he hated him THIS much. Not to care.

"Of course I care Marc they - they broke in and - the press didn't say anything about these"

Vale probably shuts his brain off, because he actually sits on Marc's bed next to him, and extends his hand to touch the bruised area.

And Marc, for the first time in his life, jerks away from Vale's touch. Like it's venomous, burning.

And Vale is sincerely worried now, hurt yes, because Marc gets away from him, but mostly worried for the fear he sees hiding behind Marc's pupils.

"Marc I'm not going to hurt you"

"No? Like you weren't going to leave me over racing results? You think I forgot what you promised me? Before the Ranch? Why should I trust you now Valentino?"

Valentino.

Not Vale.

"I - the racing it's different, it's a whole championship Marc! You helped him and -"

"I DIN'T FUCKING HELP HIM"

Marc is red in the face, he's stood up from the bed, and for once vale feels like the smaller out of the two.

"GOD! Will you get it in your fucking head I didn't help anyone to win? Huh? The fuck do you think that I manipulated the penalty system or what? That I faked to fall? That I've been mastering up this majestic plan to make you loose a championship since the Ranch visit? I didn't give a fuck who would've won last year because I wasn't in the run"

He wants to cry, so desperately would want that Vale wasn't the responsible of his pain so to look for comfort in him.

Because it doesn't make sense to ask for comfort to the person who's hurting you right? It's an oxymore.

"Marc please let me help you with those"

He'd ducking the question, Marc knows he is because he doesn0t have an answer.

And he wants to say no.

Wants to tell him to fuck off.

Instead he sits back on the bed, tilting his neck slightly, and it hurts.

He's scared too, his neck is there, ready to be sliced open if one only would.

He anticipates the sensation, hot blood running down his throat and staining his shirt, his bed, a river of crimson regret.

Instead there's gentle fingers grazing his skin, a thin layer of cream gently massaged on his bruised skin.

He wants to cry again, he also wants to get away, but he also wants Vale to stay and hold him.

He hasn't slept in days.

He wants to fall asleep with him.

God his head is a fucking mess. And Vale keeps on applying the cream on his neck, he can feel the softness and the carefulness of his touch. It's beautiful.

He wishes it could be like this forever.

Silence, softness and closeness.

Once Vale is finished he expects him to go, but he doesn't.

Marc doesn't protest, he slips under the covers and closes his eyes, tries to fall asleep.

Vale is still sat on his bed, like a guard, and Marc knows nothing between them is ok.

But maybe with Vale presence tonight he will be able to sleep.

And maybe in his dreams they're ok.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" - 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 Aemond x Reader

A/N: I had not originally planned on this being a series but the Aemond girlies loved the first one so here is a second as a lil gift. //Divider by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

Summary: You wake up to unfortunate circumstances. It only gets worse when you finally get some answers. A dream confirms that whatever chance you had at having a normal life was gone.

TW: Blood, Death.

←  Previous Part • Final Chapter →

Word Count: 3.6k (Not proofread, we die like men 🫡Im also just too tired I'll do it eventually🤣)

You yawned as you sat up in your bed rubbing your eyes. You look over to the spot Aemond was in and simply see a flower. Blushing you reach over and smell the flower.

You look over to the bath on the other side of the room and notice there's no steam coming out of it. You stand up and grab your robe off of the armchair next to your bed.

You walk over to the door after you wrap yourself in the armchair and attempt to open the door. You're shocked when the door doesn't open or move an inch.

"Hello?" You try opening the door again but they don't budge. "Is anyone out there?" You wait but hear no response.

You're unsure of what to do now. You look around your room for something to do. All that you manage to find are some of your old toys and unfinished projects.

You sit in front of the fireplace trying to think of what could possibly be going on. You remember a piece of the wall that could move and search for it, trying your best to remember exactly where it was. You end up finding it next to your dresser.

The piece moves easily and you reach inside. Your hand touches something and you instantly remember. You lay down flat on your stomach reach in with both hands and pull out the wooden box.

You're filled with nostalgia as you sit down on your bed with the box. You blow off the smoke and open it up.

Inside lies a small journal which you place to the side already deciding you have to see what young you used to write about. Inside also lies a small cushion you had sewn for you and Halaena's dolls. One of your teeth which Aegon convinced you to let him take out by tying it with string to a door.

You're confused for a moment at the last item. It's a black handkerchief with gold detailing. You pick it up and stare at it a moment before you remember.

Aemond had found you crying in a corner of the library covered in dirt, mud and God knows what else. He had asked you what happened and although you didn't want to tell him he convinced you too. You admitted that your brothers had joined Aegon in tormenting you by throwing mud at you insisting it was just a joke.

Aemond felt bad especially since he understood what it meant to be at the end of their cruel jokes. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the mud off of your face before walking you to his mother's chambers.

Alicent cleaned you off and got you a clean dress before seeking out the boys and your mother. All three of them were forced to shovel horse shit while you, Helaena and Aemond watched and ate cake.

The memory brought a smile to your face. Aemond had asked you for the handkerchief back but you told him you couldn't find it.

You pick the journal back up excitedly and open it up to a random page.

King's Landing 117 AC

Dear Diary,

Today my brother was born. Father named him Joffrey, I personally think his name is stupid but I held my tongue. Septa Anne would be proud. I went with the boys to the dragon pit today. It was awfully boring. Aemond and I watched while they got to practice commands. AND YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID! They gave us pigs! PIGS! Called them the "Pink Dreads".

Sometimes I wish I could just gouge out Aegon's eyes and put them in his soup when he isn't looking...maybe I can get Helaena to catch a beetle for me...

Anyways. I went to the kitchen to get cake but then Harwin stole it! He said it was taxes? WHAT EVEN IS TAXES?

You can't help but laugh as you continue to read. You fall asleep while reading about the time Aegon fell out of a tree while trying to grab a bird.

You wake up and blink a couple times, clearing your vision. You sit up and jump back when you see Aemond next to you lying in your bed.

"Gods! When did you get here?" He has a smirk on his face as he continues to read while eating an apple.

"A while ago. You were sleeping peacefully I didn't wish to wake you." You nod and look at what he's holding. You quickly notice it's your diary and try to snatch it out of his hand but he's quicker. He clicks his tongue at you as you try to reach for it. "Im quite enjoying this. Listen to this one. Aemond gave me a flower today!"

"Aemond! Stop! Give it back" Your face flushes in embarrassment. "I was a kid!" He drops the apple and manages to grabs your hands with one of his and holds them down.

"He is so cute!" He looks back at you with a shocked expression. "You thought I was cute, princess?" Aemond pulls you to sit in his lap and you hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment. "Aemond smiled at me today!"

"Stop!!! Please I beg of you!" He laughs and puts the journal down.

"And this!" He lifts you out of his neck and waves the handkerchief in your face. "You swore to me that you lost it! Liar!"

Aemond begins tickling you and rolls you over caging you under him. He leans down and leaves a trail of kisses from your neck down to your collarbone.

"Aemond?" He hums back in response. "Why was I locked in my chambers?" He stops kissing you for a moment before he leaves a final one on your cheek and sits up.

"You need to break fast first...then we can talk."

Aemond calls for food and for your handmaids to prepare you a bath. You're shocked at first cause of how open he was about being in your chambers while you were fully undressed. You wanted to ask if the talk had gone well about the betrothal and if that's why he was ok with people seeing him here but you opted to wait.

He watches you eat occasionally grabbing slices of fruit off of your plate.

"If you want one you could just take from the tray you know?" He smirks as he puts another grape in his mouth.

"But they taste much better off of your plate." He leans over and bites the strawberry that you're holding.

"So." He leans back in his chair. "Are you going to tell me why I was locked in here?"

The atmosphere immediately changes and is tense. He sighs deeply.

"...King Viserys died..."

Your eyes widen and you drop the food in your hand back onto the plate. Your heart clenches at the news. You had spent much of childhood following him around, you had even willingly chosen to be his cupbearer in some of his council meetings simply because you wanted to be near him.

"...that doesn't explain why I was locked in my chambers Aemond. Matter of fact that is far from an explanation. If my grandsire died I should have been notified."

Aemond fidgets with his hands the same way Alicent does as he looks at the wall.

"Kepus. What are you not telling me?" He continues staring at the wall occasionally looking at you. "Aemond." [Uncle]

"Aegon was crowned king." He says it quickly with his head held high. "As the king's firstborn son, he is the rightful heir. He was crowned before the masses in the dragon pit."

Aemond watches as your breathing quickens and your facial expressions. Your lips are pressed together as you're clenching your hands so tight.

"Who made that decision?"

"It was the King's wish. He said it upon his deathbed to my mother." You roll your eyes and stare at the wall. There was a battle going on within your head. Part of you was understanding of the firstborn son point but the other part was devastated for your mother.

"Does my mother know? What of my grandmother? I was supposed to leave with her this mourning."

"...your grandmother interrupted the crowning. She was riding Meleys, many people died and just as many were injured." You cover your mouth with a shaking hand. "I believe she is already on her way to Dragonstone probably to speak to your mother..."

Meanwhile in Dragonstone

Rhaenys wasted no time heading straight for the princess. She had no time for formalities.

She walks into the room seeing them both by the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Lorent." Rhaenys stops at the head of the table. "Princess Rhaenys, might we hope for news of Lord Corlys' recovery?"

"Viserys is dead." Rhaenyra's face drops as Daemon turns around. "I grieve this loss with you Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father...possessed a kind heart." Rhaenyra struggled to comprehend what was happening. She knew her father would die soon but hoped she would be back to King's Landing in time to be there.

"There is more. Aegon has been crowned as his successor" Rhaenyra clutches her stomach as Daemon walks over.

"They crowned him?" Rhaenyra was looking off into space, grieving.

"How did Viserys die?" Daemon had a look on his face that no one could quite place. Was he sad? Angry? Or just plain confused.

"I could not say." They both look at each other.

"How long ago?" Rhaenyra asks.

"A day past, perhaps two. I was made prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations."

"Viserys has been slain." Daemon watches Rhaenyra.

"Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon." It was not a question, Rhaenyra already knew that it had happened.

"She did. I refused her." Rhaenyra let out a shaky breath.

"And yet you are alive." Of course, Daemon was skeptical, when was he ever not?

"The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit. I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys." Rhaenyra was still clutching her stomach.

"They crowned him before the masses." Rhaenys nodded.

"So that the masses would see him as their rightful King," Rhaenys responded.

"That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you could have burned them all for it." Daemon's unknown emotion was now evident, he was angry, livid even.

"A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house." She took a deep breath. "The greens are coming for you Rhaenyra. And for your children."

"M-my children?" Rhaenyra's face contorted in pain. "My daughter! You brought her with you?" Daemon stood straight up.

"Sadly...no...Alicent had her chambers guarded well and her room had no passages. I'm sorry. I did not wish to leave my granddaughter either."

"You left my daughter with those cunts?" Daemon walked around the table to face Rhaenys. "You left her to become a bargain in this war?"

"I did my best Prince Daemon. We have allies within those walls that can get a message to her. Once I hear word she is alright I will be sending someone in to retrieve her."

"You have done enough." Daemon pointed at her. "I will retrieve my child from the snakes you fed her too."

"Enough Daemon..." Daemon turned to face Rhaenyra who was now hunched over gripping the table. "The babe... it's coming..."

King's Landing

Aemond watched as you paced around the room. You had requested he leave you alone for the a day only allowing in your handmaidens and refusing to see anyone else.

Since you had called for him this morning you hadn't said anything in almost an hour and instead paced around the room looking for the words to start this conversation. Occasionally you would stop, point at him and open your mouth but then you'd scowl and resume pacing again. He could tell you were conflicted.

"Ñuha jorrāelagon, kessa ao sit ilagon? Before you burn a hole into the floor." [My Love, will you sit down?]

"Now is not a time for jokes, Aemond! Do you know what your family has done? This is an act of war! They have usurped the throne right out from under my mother's feet. If you think she will let this go easily- no, if you think Daemon will let this go easily you are all sorely mistaken." you begin pacing again.

Aemond stood up and walked over to you and grabbed your hands.

"Gīda." [Calm] He pushed a strand of hair out of your face. "Everything is going to be ok."

"What will happen to me?" The thought had crossed your mind many times as you wondered what would be made of you.

"My grandsire and the King have agreed to our betrothal. They will announce it as part of the terms if she agrees to declare Aegon as the rightful King and kneel before him and the council."

"Terms?" You back away from him letting go of his hands. "Our marriage would no longer hold meaning Aemond. It would be seen merely as something my mother won in bowing to Aegon, a spoil of war. Either way, she would never say yes."

"Then Aegon will marry us anyway." He shrugs and pulls you back into him as if none of this bothered him. "He is my brother and he knows of the love I hold for you."

"And if I say no?" His face became stern.

"You wouldn't hurt me so."

"You mean the way that you have today?" He sighs deeply. "Why did you not come and free me from my chambers?"

"Because I knew you would leave at the first chance." You look away from him and he turns your face back towards him. "You're mine and I wasn't willing to risk losing what is mine."

You would typically enjoy this possessive air around him but you currently found it suffocating. You wanted nothing more than to put space between you but he was holding you tight against him.

"Aemond. This is not right. You must understand that?" He rolled his eyes and let you go.

"Who sits on the throne is none of my concern and not on my list priority."

"Then what is?" You step towards him angrily.

"You!" he snaps. "You are my only priority. If you say no to marrying me then you will be made prisoner here. You will spend the entirety of this war locked in here." You could tell he was being truthful. "Marry me and you will at least have some freedom."

"Some?" He walked back over to the table and sat down tired of this conversation. "What is some?"

"You will be allowed to walk freely around the castle with a guard of my choosing."

"And Vermithor?" You think of your dragon and where he could be. You had claimed him when you returned to Dragonstone after what happened at Driftmark. Aemond's bravery in claiming Vhagar led you to sneak into where he sleeps and approach the dragon yourself. You had also thought that if you claimed him you could ride to King's Landing and see him. You had learned the song Daemon would sing and tried singing it to him to calm him down. It worked despite almost being burnt to a crisp you had claimed him.

"I will visit him on Vhagar." He reached for your hand but you shied away. "You must understand that my grandsire worries about allowing you to have full freedom. After a while, you will be allowed to go riding."

"How long is a while Aemond?" He visibly gulped and bit the inside of his cheek. "How long?" Your voice was cold and made the hairs on his neck stand.

"Until you give birth to our firstborn." He said it quietly already knowing how you would react. It was smart you'd give them that. They know you wouldn't fly away while your child is in their possession. "My grandfather's decision not my own."

"And did you try to fight him on it?"

"Why would I?" He shrugged but soon noticed the angry expression on your face. "I want marriage with you, I want children." He tried to reach for you again.

"So do I Aemond! But not like this." You take his hand and he pulls you to sit on his lap. "I want us to marry because it is what we want. I want my mother to be there! This isn't the way I want to do this."

Aemond leans his head against your chest.

"My hands are tied, my love." You get off of his lap and walk over to the fireplace facing your back to him.

"I wish to be alone."

"Baby..." You hear him get up and walk over to you.

"Please go...now!" A few seconds later you hear him sigh and leave the room. You sit on the armchair and allow yourself to cry.

This was all too much for you. You worried for your mother and the rest of your family. Did they think you were a traitor now? Will they think you have chosen Aemond's family over them if you were to marry him?

You know there's no way your mother will kneel before Aegon, even if she decides to, Daemon would rather lock her in her chambers than agree to that.

How could they be so foolish? So reckless?

You walk over to your bed and lie down. You go over the pros and cons of agreeing to marry Aemond. You then think about ways you could escape. Maybe agreeing to a betrothal will at least get you the right to walk around, you could find your parent's allies within the walls and find a way back to them.

You can stall the wedding for a while. Aemond would understand you'd prefer to be married only after the war was over and your family could attend.

You soon tire yourself out with all this thinking and fall asleep.

You spend the next day alone in your chambers. Alicent had invited you to join her in breaking your fast but you respectfully declined. You needed more time.

You saw a boat sail out from King's Landing and knew it was most likely Otto heading out to deliver the terms to your mother. You knew it would not go well and they would be lucky if she didn't feed them to Syrax for their treachery.

It was only the following midday when you grew worried. You saw Vhagar fly away from the castle. Part of you wish you knew where he was going and the other part of you remained angry. You thought he knew you better, if he did he would have fought harder for your freedom right? He would have denied Otto's offer and not allowed him to make your marriage into something that they hoped would sway your mother into giving up her crown.

Gods you missed her, you prayed every moment for her safety. For all of their safety.

It rained that night. Something was off. You could feel it in your bones. You tried to sleep hoping it would calm your nerves. Your handmaid brought you tea to help you relax. You soon fell asleep but sadly even your dreams were disturbed.

You wake up on the floor of pitch black. Everything around you was dark. There was no light just darkness. You sat up and looked around.

"Hello?" Your voice echoed. You stood up and began walking around in the dark abyss not knowing where you were going.

"Gēlȳn enkagon jamela!" You hear Aemond's voice. [You owe a debt!]

You quickly turned around but nothing was there.

"Aemond?" You walked in the direction that you heard his voice. As you got closer you noticed your feet getting wet.

"Taoba!" You hear him again but in a different direction. [Boy!]

You turned again where you heard his voice and walked quicker in that direction. You felt something patter on your head and looked up. Nothing was there just darkness but you could for sure feel something wet as if it was rain.

There was a flash of a bright light to which you shielded your face.

"Daor Arrax!" Arrax? That's Luke's dragon.

"Luke? Luke, are you there?" You noticed your clothes clinging to your body as they were now soaked the scent of salty water filling your nose.

"Vhagar! No! No..." What had happened? Why was he saying no?

You look around you quickly trying to make sense of what it is you are hearing. The rain is heavier and you look at your hands. They aren't just wet...they're red. Your dress is now too stained red. You touch your cheek and look back at your hands and see the same red substance.

Something drops from above causing you to step back quickly. More pieces fall from the sky surrounding you. You shield your head and scream as the red rain grows heavier and more pieces fall.

When the rain softens and the sound of stuff falling ceases you open your eyes and look around you. Your face twists in pain as you see pieces of the body of Arrax surrounding you. It only gets worse when you see a human body part. You look closer and notice the hand.

"He got me." You hear his Lucerys voice and you instantly know it was his hand.

You wake up in a sweat your hair sticking to your neck and your pillow drenched. You look up and see Aemond standing at the end of your bed his clothes drenched.

And in that moment you knew.

The war had started.

A/N: So this is clearly turning into a series. Which I'm actually not mad about. Not sure where this is going but naturally the chances of any of this being 100% original is not possible. There are far too many HOTD fanfics for any ending or storyline to be original. I can only hope that it is 100% enjoyable.

I will still obviously do my best to come up with a unique ending but I feel like to have a unique ending people need to die. I need to start killing off characters like Grey's Anatomy 🤣

Anywho I hope y'all enjoyed this part! If you wish to be added to this Taglist or any other one please let me know!

Gen Taglist: @thought--bubble, @valeskafics

[heyitslapis]

Hi it's been 10 hours & I still cannot stop thinking about her.

I can't stop thinking about this person

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Batfam x GN!Bat!Reader.

Summary: Bruce had another kid in Arkham asylum that nobody knows about.

Warnings: Murder, Suicide, Arkham asylum, Reader can see the dead, Bruce being a bad father, mentions someone who can "hear God".

Part Two

~☆~

Nineteen.

Nineteen miserable years that you have been alive. Five of which you have spent in the hell hole, that is Arkham Asylum. Thrown in here with the approval of the man known as your father. The man Gotham city praises. The man who does nothing but help those around him, even going as far as adopting a group of orphans. Bruce Wayne.

You had always had an "overreactive" imagination as the people around you called it. When you were around twelve, you started having "outbursts", claiming things that weren't there actually existed, things that happened actually were caused by another being, one that only you can see.

So when your mother was unexpectedly murdered, and Batman walked onto the scene, you told him you weren't even home. But the journals your mother kept that had scribbles all about your claims made them believe it was you who killed her, only, you were believing a delusion, so you didn't remember. Of course you remember, you were out running the streets to get yourself just a scrap of food from wherever you could get it from.

The city wanted a DNA test before they threw you in Arkham, trying their best to put a face to the empty signature on your birth certificate. You could always tell your mother knew who your father was. Her dismissive attitude that presented whenever you would ask gave it away.

When the test came back and told you that you were the Prince of the city's kid, you told yourself that he's unreliable and not to be trusted. Your mother had to have a reason not to tell the man that she was carrying his child. She wouldn't have raised you in your shitty one bedroom apartment for nothing. Maybe she did tell him, and he just told her to get lost?

You just know that as he watched you get dragged away and thrown in one of the most vile places, you had decided that he was the worst thing you would ever see.

He never one visited or called. Even when the DNA came back and he was allowed a short meeting with you, he denied wanting to see you. A far different man than his TV persona.

×

"This piece goes over there.." A female voice spoke from over your shoulder.

"Thank you, Alice."

"Mhm"

Alice was a nice girl. She had shaved off brunette hair and a pair of strikingly blue eyes. There were marks that stuck to the temples of her head from years of electro-therapy. She had been a patient at Arkham years before you were thrown in. She had even died there. She had whispered a story about her time awaiting her death through her electro-therapy...it was almost the same as the electric chair.

"And this one goes here." A young male who sat in front of you pointed at the puzzle you were putting together.

Mathew. He, too, had dark brown hair and matching blue eyes with Alice. Siblings that came from the same rotten seed. He had killed himself in Arkham after he found out about Alice's death.

Nothing was really wrong with them, they had been transmitted to Arkham at a bad time in the world. The both of them were just severely traumatized and scared.

Far different than Ruby, who claims God was talking to her, but his whispers stopped when she strangled herself.

"They have brownies in the canteen today." Mathew whispered, watching you with his usually wide eyes. The brownies happened to be the only good thing in this entire facility.

"Finally, I've been waiting all week." You mumbled, looking down at the table in front of you.

"Y/N." The familiar voice of Dr. Conley spoke. "It's time."

Wordlessly, you abandoned your puzzle and left your room, following her all the way to the bare office that they would bring the catatonic patients. Your breakdown last week had landed you to not be able to leave the main building.

"Please sit." She instructed you. You did as told and reached for the sickeningly white chair that waited for you.

You watched as she took in a sigh and looked around the room. "I thought you were getting better-"

"There is nothing to recover from." You interrupted her, growing defensive. "I'll name off a patient who died here, and you can go see if you can find their papers!"

You know you should've given up explaining by now. None of them would ever believe you. "Y/N, you know that's not possible-"

"But fucking aliens are!?" Your breathing became heavy as you looked at her.

"Look, Y/N-"

"I want to go back to my room." You mumbled, interrupting her for the third time.

You could hear her sigh yet again before she tried to speak, but you only banged on the table in front of you. "I WANT TO GO BACK TO MY ROOM!"

×

Dick had been searching through Bruce's at home office for the past few hours. Looking for his adoption papers because of some stupid shit at work. With a sigh, he closed the filing cabinet he was looking in and went to go find Alfred instead.

As he approached the dining room (where he expected the older man to be), he not only found Alfred, but a giant box filled with papers as well.

"I believe you were looking for this." Alfred stated as he turned to look at Dick. "Master Bruce keeps all of your legal documents in a safer place." Of course, he was talking about the other adoptees and blood child that lived in the Manor some point in their life.

"Yeah, thanks, Alf." Dick smiled as he started sorting through the papers. The older man only nodded his head and walked off.

Alright here we go..Jason, Tim, Damian, Jason again, More stuff for Tim, a copy of his own birth certificate, Y/N L/N, Jason- Hold on..Y/N L/N?

×

Dick had loudly entered the batcave, making a b-line straight for Bruce.

"Who is Y/N?!"

"Wha-"

"Who the fuck is Y/N, Bruce?!"

Bruce let out a sigh as he stepped away from Dick, watching as his son waved a handful of papers in his face.

"Father, what is he talking about?" Damian (who just happened to be in the cave) asked.

"He has another kid- one that he's kept secret!" Dick yelled, looking over at his younger brother. He knows it's not really any of his business, but he can't help but feel angry over how you might have not even existed in Bruce's eyes. "Another ACTUAL kid of yours!" He put emphasis on the 'actual' trying to hint to you being another blood child like Damian.

"Go get ready. I'm calling Tim and Jason." He told Damian, already grabbing his phone from his pocket. Damian hesitantly got out of his seat and did what Dick asked.

"Dick, you don't have to make this serious." Bruce slackly tried to grab for the phone.

"Don't make it serious?!" Dick yelled, shocked at Bruce's words. "They're your kid?!"

"They're a murderer!"

Dick let an ebrupt laugh fall from his lips, slowly lowering the phone from his ear. "Jason's a murderer."

"B-but-"

"Damian's a murderer, Tim's a murderer, I'm a murderer!" He yelled out the last part.

The two of them continued to stare at each other for a few seconds before Dick brought his phone back up to his ear. "Yeah, Tim, I'm here."

~☆~

Hehehhe, just something I came up with. I'm going to post another ArkhamPatientBatkid!Reader later. It's gonna have a different plot and stuff, but it's just stuck in my head.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Heyy, I love ur content and can I request a Web weaving of being alone or loneliness? Thankyou <3

i hope you're doing well <33

Alice Oseman Radio Silence / The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012) dir. Stephen Chbosky / Gail Honeyman Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine / Susan Sontag As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980 / The Double (2013) dir. Richard Ayoade / Heather Havrilesky Ask Polly: Help, I'm The Loneliest Person In The World! / Taylor Steele Shocker / Amy Dunne

[milkiie]

𝐴𝑁 𝐴𝐶𝑇𝑈𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑌 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃𝐹𝑈𝐿 𝐿𝑂𝐴 𝐺𝑈𝐼𝐷𝐸

everyone wants to talk about how the law is effortless, manifestation is effortless, but it seems to me nobody wants to talk about the effort one has to put in before being able to effortlessly apply it. manifesting is tied to general well-being, mindset and energy, and it is not the same for everybody. i've seen one too many people getting asks from others with genuine questions and giving them no guidance, no compassion, just buzz words, mantras and snark; so, here: an actually helpful guide to loa and manifestation, where i actually tell you things

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🎀 ̟ !! step 1 : self concept

self concept is the way you perceive and treat yourself.

here is a video explaining it in depth:

now that we know what it is and what makes a good, high self concept, here are some specific ideas on how to boost it:

first, it is important to develop a sense of self and identity. get to know yourself, find out who you are and what you really want, what fulfills you. i like to use journaling for this

here are some prompts for you to use:

and some subliminals, if you'd like to use them:

1. 432Hz frequency + self-concept by iwiigi: 🌸

2. mindset + self-concept by moza morph: 🍨

3. self concept by Alice's Enchanted Cottage: 💕

➙ you do not have to use subliminals, but i personally love to

some other ways to boost your self concept:

᯽ practice self care. physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually

᯽ discipline your thoughts. don't let your inner bully run their mouth

᯽ validate yourself, praise yourself, celebrate yourself

᯽ work on healing your inner child

᯽ do things that make you feel confident - wear your makeup, hair and clothes how you like it, dance sexily in your room, pretend to be a celebrity, whatever it takes to feel like you are it

᯽ spend quality time with yourself, doing things that make you happy

᯽ do nice things for others. simple things like smiling at people, or complimenting someone do wonders both for them, and yourself

REMEMBER: you don't need to do any of this, these are just ideas; do what feels right for you

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🎀 ̟ !! step 2 : align with receiving

this is what hinders most people in receiving their manifestations, and it is not your fault. it can be hard to receive effortlessly, especially if you are used to only giving, or having to work hard to receive. that is what the world has taught you.

work on becoming comfortable with receiving without endeavor, and on not feeling indebted or inadequate. this is why self concept is important. you will not receive what you do not feel worthy of. you will not receive if you don't feel comfortable accepting.

to become more comfortable with receiving, all you have to do is treat yourself! not just materially, but spiritually and emotionally. lavish yourself with care, compliments, little treats, rest, partaking in things that bring you enjoyment, etc. keep reminding yourself you deserve only the best, both by affirming, and actually giving yourself the good things. even if you feel you haven't been "productive", choose to spoil yourself. choose to live deliciously.

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🎀 ̟ !! step 3 : really embrace the simplicity

please, stop reading posts that use huge, abstract words and tell you to "just do" something. stop engaging with blogs that put people down or refuse to explain. they are bringing down your vibration, and they are complicating the law beyond all recognition. just do what feels right

you wanna use methods? use them!

feel drawn to practicing spells? go ahead!

subliminals look cool to you? wonderful!

you feel right just deciding and carrying on? hell yeah!

whatever you do to manifest your desires, be it affirming, making a vision board, scripting, SATS, or whatever else, as long as it feels good, it will work.

follow your happiness and your intuition. trust yourself. stop seeking validation from the outside, just do what you think is best

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🎀 ̟ !! step 4 : coping with perceived lack

now, we all know you aren't actually lacking. if you have decided to manifest something, it is yours. but what if you don't see it in your perceived reality? you don't have to ignore the illusion of lack. in fact, i would say it is self-limiting to attempt that

instead, make peace with waiting

understand that the moment you decide something is yours, movement starts, even if not visible to you in your surroundings yet. the moment you decide, you begin to align with your desire, and the universe starts to work on getting it to you. it is like online shopping. placing your order is instant, but it takes a little bit of time for it to actually get into your hands. and just like with a package, while you wait for your manifestation to get to you, you don't need to stress about it. just do what feels good and live your best life, do what makes you happy. you don't need to pretend you already have it. you just need to live in the knowing that you will. persist in the knowing.