#george ii my beloved

[dailygeorgejoestarii]

Love you all! ❤️

[questionableresponses]

GEORGE JOESTAR II NATION RISE UP

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Heaven & Earth 🌍 | Gladiator II Imagine

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Emperor Geta x Empress!reader

Content Warnings: fluff, comfort, depictions of mental illness, mentions of pregnancy, soft!Geta, historical refences and mythology (not completely accurate to the timeline) | female!reader (she/her) like three uses of Y/n | wc: 4.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: In which the mighty Emperor Geta of Rome becomes the beacon of light pulling his Empress back to Earth when the Gods of Mount Olympus visit her mind in an attempt to beckon her to a place where the Heavens and Earth crash alongside each other.

note: yes this based and inspired by Queen Charlotte and basically the reader has the condition George has. I apologize in advance for any potential mistakes and inaccuracies, I am not an expert or professional in regard to mental conditions please be mindful of that and kind when leaving comments or critique. Thank you.

dilectus meus = "my beloved," in Latin

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

“My Emperor!” The shout echoed, bouncing off the palace walls, racing footsteps in its wake as the servant rushed to the man she searched for. Finding him at the end of the corridor with his guards walking as they readied themselves to greet General Acacius upon his return to Rome. “Please, Emperor, a moment of your time!”

Gruffing, irritation painting his visage, Geta pivoted to face the servant, making them come to a freezing stop feet away from where he stood. Out of breath and red in the face from chasing the sovereign. Geta’s gaze turned hard, “What is it? What is so important you have hounded me at a time like this--.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty, it’s the Empress,” the servant was bold to interrupt Geta, but they did so anyway despite the dire consequences. However their intuition was right as they watched the Emperor’s face shift from anger to panic. 

It was then Geta realized the servant as the main attendee to his wife. Alba. Who’d been with her since she was still in the care of her father and step-mother. A constant figure in the Empress’ life who saw first hand the torment that plagued Y/n’s mind. Normally Alba was successful in bringing her back to Earth, but her state of duress told Geta it was out of her hands and Y/n needed him. 

In a hurry, Geta brushes past her, ordering him to follow and his guards trail closely behind. “When did it start?”

“Only minutes ago. We finished her hair and nearly completed her glamour when I noticed she became silent. I tried calling her back but then she started saying the usual things when this happens.”

“The Gods and Olympus?”

“Yes, Emperor,” Alba confirmed, eyes watering as they approached the chambers. Even after so many years, the suffering of the Empress brought anguish to the maiden. And to her fellow servants, who cared deeply for their Queen. “I cannot place what is responsible for this sudden fit,” her voice drops to a whisper, so only Geta heard her. Yes, the guards close to the Imperial couple had knowledge but still they wished to keep matters private from prying ears. 

“Likely the upcoming celebrations of her father’s arrival,” Geta spoke aloud, turning the corner hastily. The doors of his chambers came into view and he heard the gentle voices of his wife’s servants trying to coax her from her state. “Fetch warm milk from the kitchens and honey bread. She’ll need that once I’ve brought her back.”

“Yes, Imperator,” Alba bows her head before turning on her heel to head in the opposite direction toward the kitchens. Geta continues on, passing his wife’s guards who appear in just as distress as the maids as they stand at the doorway. As he enters the chambers, everyone freezes. 

His eyes scan the room, his wife nowhere to be found but the doleful expressions of the servants confirmed she was there. Hiding somewhere. The vanity was in disarray, rings scattered across the surface and on the ground, indicating she likely removed them in her fit of stress. Face paint spilled against the smooth marble. The vase full of lilies shattered, leaving water and petals puddled together. 

“Where is she?”

The servant pointed to the bed, “underneath, my Imperator. She refuses to come out.” 

With a wave of a hand, Geta orders, “Leave us.” And like birds flocking in the sky, the servants and maids ushered out of the chambers. The guards posting themselves outside after closing the door with a loud *click* 

Now standing alone in his chambers, away from the eyes of his staff, Geta relaxes his shoulders with an exhale. Mentally preparing himself as his attention turned toward the grand bed where the sound of heavy panting filled his ears. 

“Darling?” he calls out softly, feet carrying him to his side of the bed. Upon hearing her shaken, “yes,” Geta kneels himself onto the rug, lifting the sham to peek underneath the bed, where he finds his beloved wife laying on the feathered rug covering the wooden floors. 

Geta’s heart tightened at her state. Body stiff as the statues that adorned the palace grounds. Eyes wide and fearful, lips quivering as she attempts to calm her breathing. Chest heaving at a fast pace, thankfully slowing by the second. Beads of sweat on her forehead, glistening against the golden headpiece the servants had managed to place atop when they finished styling her hair. The makeup beneath her eyes smudged from the tears cascading her cheeks. Face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Geta wanted nothing more than to remove the distress from his wife and free her from the storm her mind bestowed on her.

A ball of black fur was nestled against the Empress’ side. Ears peeking up followed by bright green eyes, revealing her beloved cat Nox. The animal was a gift to her on their wedding day to assist her when times like these occurred. A companion for when Geta was occupied. 

“It’s been quite some time since this happened,” he muses, tucking the sham into the mattress so his view is not obscured, never taking his eyes away from her as he removes his flowing cape, discarding it on top of the bed. “The last was before we were gifted the babe growing in your womb.” He peeked down to see the slight swell of her stomach protruding against the fabric of her dress. 

“I--I’m so sorry,” her voice croaks, sniffing as she fights to hold back another wave of tears. “I do not know--know why today this--.”

Geta shushes her, a whimper leaving her mouth, thinking she displeased him. Refusing to look at the man, Y/n hears shuffling and from her peripheral catches her husband lay his back on the rug before scooting beneath the bed. Inch by inch until he finally reached her side. The warmth of his hand radiated against her palm as he took it in his. Softly stroking the bare knuckles lacking rings. The loving gesture a means to bring comfort.

“The Gods visited you, my darling?”

Her breathing finally calms down at the gentleness in his voice, swallowing the saliva that formed in her throat. Still, she stares at the wood above her, unable to meet his gaze. “Mars--Mars and Venus--they watched from the shadows. Juno stood--stood behind me in the mirror. I--I willed them to leave, to not bother me on a day like this--but they refused, saying I was to follow them home.” shuddering, the Empress squeezes her eyes shut, the darkness welcoming with open arms. “I did not wish to make a spectacle, husband. Especially today with all that’s been prepared. Forgive me, please.” 

“There is nothing to forgive, love.” Geta assures her, lifting the hand he clutched to cradle against his chest. Letting her feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. “Just focus on my voice and my heart. Let me guide you as you return from your journey to Olympus. Our little one needs you to be calm, my love.”

And so the rulers of Rome laid beneath their bed for what felt like hours until the Empress fully rejoined her husband back on Earth. All the while Geta stroked the hand perched on his chest, bringing it up periodically to kiss her fingertips and whisper words of love and affirmation into her skin. 

His thoughts drifted to the past when he felt her relax. To when he first met the woman who captured his soul and would become his Empress. Stunning the court as Geta had never planned to marry and simply enjoyed the pleasures being the Emperor afforded. 

It was an accident. The two were never supposed to meet. For she never attended public events at the palace with her father, the esteemed General of Rome, Marcus Acacius and her step-mother, Lucilla, the adored daughter of former Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Their daughter was a mere mystery, hardly anyone besides close members of the Senate had knowledge of the woman. 

The origin of her condition was also a mystery. Marcus' first wife, Y/n’s mother, passed during childbirth leaving the General to raise her on his own. She was mostly in the care of maids and servants when he was off to fight Rome’s wars, therefore Marcus did not know what shadowed his beloved daughter's mind until he witnessed an episode himself shortly after her seventh birthday. That’s when her primary caretaker, an older woman by the name of Daphne, confessed to the General the fits began two years prior. 

Most men would be ashamed. Might go as far as to send their child away. Disowning them to be left to the bloody wolves of the world and to not dare claim their sire’s name furthermore. For a child who lived between the Heavens and the Earth was unheard of. Who’s state of mind would relinquish them from any sustainable future. 

But General Acacius was not that man. His daughter was his life, and the memory of his wife whom he adored. It would be the ultimate sin to discard the child as though she were the dirt beneath his feet. His late wife would drag him to the Underworld herself should he dare. 

No, General Acacius vowed to protect and love his daughter the moment she entered the world. He would uphold it until his last breath. 

He only let the best of the best care for the girl. Paying them an Emperors wager to ensure her needs were met and she felt safe in the walls of her home. To bring her back to Earth when the Gods of Olympus called to her and he was unable to return her himself. By the time she reached the age of ten and Marcus remarried Lucilla, he and the staff realized her fits were brought upon by stress and situations that unnerved the girl. 

Y/n was granted freedoms with few restrictions. She was tutored with the best education provided, allowed to roam the gardens, have animal companions, and interact with the children of Acacius’ colleagues when they visited the home. Daphne close to her, the older woman knowing when to step in and remove the girl as the features on her face would consort and she’d stare off into the distance momentarily before the flood of emotions consumed her.

After Daphne passed, Alba entered the picture. And she, Marcus, and Lucilla were the only three able to pull the young woman from the Heavens. Until she met Geta. 

It was a spur of the moment decision. Marcus and Lucilla were summoned to the palace to attend a feast celebrating the founding of Rome. He himself had dismissed his staff to allow them to enjoy the festivities the night held. And he could not leave his daughter alone, but there was no one to watch her while they were gone. In the end, it was Lucilla who convinced Marcus to allow her to accompany them to the palace. For she had not endured an episode in months since her nineteenth name day and it would do well for her to be exposed to their peers. Not to mention she’d be beside them the entire time, and they’d depart immediately if she became overwhelmed. 

Marcus had no issue until it came time for them to greet the Emperors. Geta and Caracalla seated in their thrones, flanked by their companions who fed them grapes and produced goblets of wine. He witnessed with his own eyes the sudden shift in demeanor from Emperor Geta when his gaze landed on the young woman. His bored expression consorting to one of intrigue and interest. Flooding the general with uncertainty. 

He continued to find Geta seeking his daughter throughout the night. Observing her from afar or purposefully conversing with guests in their proximity. Not hiding the way his brown eyes flickered to her in an attempt to lock their stares. Then Marcus discovered the two talking by the feast table, Lucilla having been pulled into a conversation by a Senator allowing Geta to swoop in and steal the young woman’s attention. 

Marcus did not miss the way his daughter’s face lit up. In awe of the man before her and completely immersed in whatever it was they were talking about. Geta too, possessed an expression no man had ever seen before. As though he was in the presence of a Goddess. 

And when Geta summoned Marcus at the end of the feast with his intentions, the General cursed the Gods for putting him in a position that would threaten his daughters livelihood. The decision determined her fate. 

“You deny me, Acacius,” Geta sneered, anger penetrating his tone and visage. “I have proposed to you the gift of a lifetime. I desire to make your daughter my Empress, and you dare voice opposition!?”

Calm and collected, the General simply bows his head before saying, “Emperor Geta, any man would be thanking the Gods for this generous offer, but it is my daughter’s well being I put above all else in this world.” Of course he was not blind to the gruesome reputation Geta and his brother had developed. Bloodthirsty rulers who enjoyed making spectacles of their enemies. No stranger to the violence they enjoyed from Glatorial battles. He’d be damned to let his precious daughter marry a man who’d expose her to distressing events that’ll trigger her. 

“You’re foolish to even think for a moment this was anything but an order.”

Now that was what Marcus was afraid of. That Geta had already made up his mind and wasn’t asking for permission to marry Y/n…. he was announcing his intent to marry her. 

“My Emperor,” Marcus pleaded, “I cannot let you decide this without informing you of my daughter’s condition. And I ask for you to reconsider to allow her the freedom of scrutiny from the people of Rome.”

Geta’s head tilts, confusion painting his form, “Condition?”

Marcus takes a deep breath, feeling the pounding of his heart against his chest. Praying to the Gods for mercy for his daughter should the emperor deem it necessary to exile her. “From time to time, my daughter experiences these episodes that overtake her state of mind.” Geta’s expression shifts, like he understood what the general implied considering his brother also experienced fits. “It’s happened since she was a child. Often triggered by stress or when overwhelmed and usually lasts minutes,” he explains with a shaky exhale, “It is as though her mind lives between the Heavens and the Earth. Where our Gods visit her, beckoning her to come with them to Olympus. Once she’s pulled away it is difficult to return her back to herself as she’s consumed by the emotional distress. My wife, her caretaker, and myself are the ones able to draw her back when her mind is elsewhere.” Licking his lips, eyes trailing to the floor, Marcus finishes by saying, “it is why I’ve never brought her to these functions till tonight. She needs stability, she needs peace. And forgive me, my Imperator, for speaking freely but marrying her to you frightens me for what she may experience without us there to care for her.”

Any man would be warded off at the revelation, but Geta was not deterred. He maintained his proposal, for he was smitten by the beautiful maiden that waltzed into his palace and tore down the marble walls he built around his soul. She was a breath of life in the otherwise dreadful environment surrounding him. He would prove Acacius wrong, and stand by his beloved during her times of need. 

Returning her to Earth when the Gods come to take her.

In the month leading to the Royal wedding during their courtship, the soon to be Empress moved into her own private chambers in preparation to assimilate to the life ahead of her. Geta showered her with gifts and anything she dreamed of having. Chocolates and wine, jewels and gold. Their love blossomed with each passing day. 

The first time the Emperor witnessed her experience a visit from the Gods, Geta wished nothing more than to switch places. He’d approached her chamber door to wish her goodnight when the commotion raging inside filled his ears. The guards posted in front of the doors stiffening at the sight of him. Hesitating to open the doors when he ordered, but when they did Geta entered to find his beloved pacing hastily. Her hair in wild disarray, indicating they’d just taken out the braids when the episode occurred, and robes untied leaving her sheer nightgown to the naked eye. 

Geta saw her lips moving at a fast pace, spilling out incorrigible words jumbled together. Eyes blinking a mile per minute, and hands trembling as she spoke to a presence they could not see. It broke his heart to see her in such distress. Wishing nothing more than to free her from the torment that plagued her.

Her head-maiden/caretaker Alba pleaded with tears in her eyes for her to return home while the other servants observed with sorrow. “My Lady, focus on my voice. You are safe. You are loved. You are home. Order them away and return to us, sweet lady.”

Eventually, and a shock to those in attendance, Geta was the one to calm his beloved and return her to him. Attending to her with care no one expected the Emperor to possess. Then again, it was rare for onlookers to witness him calm his brother when he had an episode. 

When the woman finally steadied her breathing, she broke down into a heap of sobs into Geta’s chest. The Emperor winding his arms around her figure to shield her from the world, murmuring sweet nothings against the crown of her head. Only lifting his head once to order the servants out to grant them privacy, but not before ordering Alba to retrieve warm milk and honey bread for his beloved. 

That night they had their first argument. Y/n begging Geta to withdraw his proposal and let her return to her parents. So that she would not be a burden to him and an embarrassment to Rome. He deserved a better wife. One that will be an image of Venus as Empress of Rome, who would not curse his line with a condition that pulled them away from Earth. Geta refused, confessing his love for her and that he would never be able to find a woman to capture his mind, body, and soul like she has done. 

“Look at me!” she pushed away from his hold, tear streaks smudging her makeup and hair an untamed mane. “I am unwell! My mind cannot place where I am--it is like the Heavens and the Earth collide--!” She takes her fingertips to her temples, the tears flowing like a waterfall. “The Gods--the Gods pry me from the ground--they take me away! I cannot subject you to a life of worry that I’ll have a fit in the middle of a Senate meeting or in front of the people. They will tell you to rid yourself of me--to take a new wife and return me to my father. Why wait when you can do that now and save yourself the shame--!”

Geta grasped her hands in his, pulling them to his chest so she felt the beat of his heart against her palms. The steady rhythm grounding her as his brown eyes penetrated her own with intensity. “Listen to me,” He demands with firmness, but not the type to frighten her. “I do not care what the Senate--or anyone of Rome thinks, you are what matters to me. No one will ever amount to the light you’ve awakened in me. Gods be damned, I will not let anyone take you away.” He keeps one hand clutching hers, the other moving to cup her cheek. “I will stand with you between the Heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are.”

They were married the next morning, neither waiting to swear themselves to the other beneath the Gods and before the people of Rome. General Acacius gave his daughter away, watching with glistening eyes as he witnessed the two souls entwine. Lucilla not shying from her emotion, dabbing the tears that fell with a handkerchief. Emperor Caracalla looked on with a neutral expression, not rejoicing but not averse either. 

The Royal couple trotted the streets of Rome in the carriage, waving to the people who cheered and threw rice and flowers their way. Blessing their new Empress and thanking the Gods for her. Geta held onto her hand the entire journey, pressing soft kisses to the skin to remind her of his presence whenever he caught beginning to dissociate. Pulling her from the Gods before they had the chance to take her. 

Months later, following a delightful honeymoon, the Empress experienced another difficult episode when she was delivered massive news from the Royal physician. Geta was attending a Senate meeting when a guard approached him, immediately departing when told his wife was indisposed. 

“What brought this on,” he commanded the servant walking with him, who’d been the one to pass the message to his guard. 

“She did not digest her morning meal, my Imperator,” they explained with a stutter, “and has been plagued with fatigue the last several days that she ordered the physician to examine her.” Worry etched Geta’s face, picking up the pace that the servant was practically running beside him. “Forgive me for informing you of this--for I know the Empress would rather be the one, but she is with child and we suspect this fit is a result of the news.”

Geta freezes, the air catching in his throat as his brain processes what was just bestowed to him. Warmth fills his chest, and before he knows it a tender smile graces his features. A stunning sight to those around him.

His wife was with child. He was going to be a father. 

Suddenly Geta remembered where he was and who needed him. Shaking his head as he hurriedly walked down the corridors to their shared chambers. He orders the servant to the kitchens for warm milk and honey bread, the guards taking their place outside the room while he enters on his own. There he finds Alba alone by the doors of the balcony, a gentle expression on her face looking at something on the floor. While his wife’s cat, Nox, perches himself on the nightstand. 

“Where is she? They said she was in here.” Geta questioned, panic in his eyes that he could not see his wife. The panic turns into worry when Alba points to the bed.

“She’s laying underneath,” she tells him with a frown. 

Geta rushes over, kneeling down to lift the shame, face dropping when he discovers Y/n shivering on the fur rug laid beneath the bed. Wet cheeks and chest panting up and down as she catches her breath. Glancing up, he waves a hand to Alba as a gesture for her to leave them. The maid bows, closing the chamber doors on her way out.

“My darling, why are you under the bed?”

“The Gods, they--they cannot find me here,” she croaks, staring blankly at the wood as the voices drown out to muffles and the stars leave her vision. “It’s quiet under here.” 

Laying on his back, Geta shuffles onto the rug to the space beside his wife. Reaching for her hand when he gets comfortable. “You are right, my dear. It is rather quiet,” her skin is soft under the thumbs stroking her knuckles. “Very peaceful if I must say.”

“Please accept my apologies, husband,” she sniffs, free hand wiping at her face. “I did not think they’d remove you from your meeting.”

“Forget the meeting. It was tiresome and if I’m honest I was planning to leave anyway right as my guard approached me.” Her light chuckle relieved him, the emperor turning his head to stare at her side profile. Taking in her beautiful face as though she would vanish from thin air and leave him. “What ails you, my love? What did the Gods want today?”

The Empress’ bottom lip quivered, making his heart sting as he felt her pain. “The physician told me something,” another sniff leaves her, followed by a lone tear. “I’m with child, Geta. And I know I should be overjoyed, thanking the Gods for this gift and celebrating with you--.” she tilts her head away from the bed frame, facing him instead and allowing the emotion to release. “But I am afraid. I fear for our child--that they will endure the same as me and I cannot fathom it.”

Geta leans over, cupping her cheek with the hand not holding hers and stares deeply into her eyes. “Look at me. No matter what happens, whether our child is touched by the Gods or not, we will stand and take this passage of the unknown together. They will be safe and loved, with you as their mother protecting them. No God will pull them from Earth, we will tell them where they are. Understand?”

The Empress nods, bottom lip jutted out like a child in need as the tears leaked from her eyes. Geta tilts her jaw up, bringing her mouth to his in a sweet kiss to seal his vow and remind her of his devotion. They remain beneath the bed for a few minutes until she’s calm, Geta pressing loving kisses to her nose, cheeks, forehead, and lips. His hand moved to her stomach, caressing the silk clad skin where their child grew. Conceived of their love. 

The birth of twins Marcus and Marcella brought celebration to Rome. Citizens crowded the gates of the palace with gifts, games in the colosseum held in their honor. Followed by the anniversary of the Royal couple where the golden statue of the Empress was unveiled. Every night Geta held her after tucking in their children, murmuring words of affirmation to lull her to sleep. 

Time went on and her visit from the Gods became distant. Sometimes brought on by the worry of her father at war or the state of the Empire. Then after the twins second name day they were blessed with the news they were with child once more. 

Now here they were beneath the bed of their Royal chamber months later, Emperor Geta of Rome consoling his beloved wife as he guided her back to Earth. The babe nestled in her womb grew while their twins slept soundly in their nursery until it was time to wake them. Her father had likely arrived at the palace by now and Caracalla was waiting for them to appear so they may greet Acacius together. 

But Geta would not leave their bedroom floor until his Empress was ready. Till the Gods left her alone. 

“Thank you,” her voice brought him out of his thoughts, gaze lifting to find the eyes he adored staring back at him with absolute tenderness. Glistening against the speck of light able to reach them. The Empress conveyed all the love in her tone as she spoke, “Thank you for standing with me. For always telling me where I am.” Warmth erupted in his chest, Geta never breaking eye contact as he brought her hand to his mouth, his own eyes glistening.

“I will fight for you until my last breath. I love you, dilectus meus.” 

[jromanoff]

Pink Jeeps and kittens II R. George

Pairing: Regina George (2024) x Reader, Karen Shetty (2024) x Reader (platonically)

Warning(s): none

Authors note: I haven't written anything in two years, so please bear with me :)

Summary: You damage Regina's pink Jeep when you swerve to avoid a kitten

Word count: 1.5k

It was an accident.

You didn’t mean to drive into some garbage cans on the side of the road with Regina´s pink Jeep, but you couldn´t just hit the cute black kitten that sat in the middle of the road.

After successfully evading the kitten you quickly jumped out of the Jeep and walked over to the kitten, which was in the middle of the road. In fact, you were so focussed on the kitten that you failed to look both ways for traffic when crossing the road. As you put a step on the road a car approached, honking. You quickly jumped back on the pavement in fright.

When you calmed down a little, you crossed the road to the kitten again, this time looking both ways for any traffic. You leaned down and picked up the kitten. “Hi buddy” you spoke to the cute kitten in your arms, petting its head as you walked back to Regina’s pink Jeep. Not only did you scratch her beloved Jeep; moreover, you brought a pet inside it. If Regina discovers any of this she might even buy a new custom car, you thought. Besides that, Regina will probably be angry at you and would never allow you to drive in her Jeep again. You were determined to not let that happen.

You got back behind the steering wheel and put the kitten on the floor on the passenger side of the vehicle. Now you just had to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about any of this. The first step to ensure this was to temporarily get rid of the kitten in a pet-friendly way, but who would take a kitten in without a second thought? Karen, you thought, and immediately turned the car around to Karen’s house.

It was a 5 minute trip to Karen’s house. When you arrived you quickly jumped out with the kitten in your arms. You rang the bell, hoping it was Karen who would open the door and not one of her parents. Your prayers were answered as Karen opened the door. “Hi-“ Karen started, but gasped as she saw you standing there with a kitten in your arms.

“Is that a kitten? He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Karen said excitedly as her eyes widened at the sight of the small animal in your arms.

“Yeah, hi Karen. He doesn’t have a name yet. I kinda wanted to ask you something…” you answered her questions and immediately got to the point. Karen looked at you, curious as to what you were going to ask her. “Could you perhaps keep this cute kitten at your house today? I know it’s a big ask, but I just saved him from being ran over by a car.” you continued, waiting for Karen to say yes.

“Why?” Karen questioned as her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well… I’m on my way to Regina’s house…. And I’ll pick him up tomorrow to get him checked out at the vets, but you know how Regina is with animals” you explained to Karen who still wasn’t entirely convinced, but you had one last trick up your sleeve. “You can even name him if you agree, you know” you told Karen and her eyes instantly lit up. “Deal” she said with a big grin as she made grabby hands at you. Rolling your eyes you gave the kitten to Karen, who immediately hugged it to her chest.

“Thank you” you grinned at Karen. Part one of your plan was complete. Now you just needed to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about the scratch on her Jeep.

Feeling relieved that you’ve successfully placed the kitten in Karen’s care, you hopped back into Regina’s pink Jeep, your mind racing with ideas on how to fix the scratch. As you drive away from Karen’s house, you can’t help but worry about how Regina will react if she finds out about the damage to her beloved custom painted pink vehicle.

As you arrived at Regina’s mansion, you took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You carefully inspected the scratch on the Jeep, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed at first. But alas, it was quite noticeable. Trudging to the front door, you summoned all your courage to ring the doorbell and waited for your girlfriend to open it.

When your girlfriend eventually answered the door, she took in the sight of you standing there with an apologetic expression.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Regina said, her perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as she leaned on the door frame.

“Why would there be anything going on?” you said, nervously looking around and trying to evade your girlfriend’s gaze.

“You’re looking guilty about something. Spill,” Regina demanded, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Okay, fine. I messed up” you admitted, “I was driving your Jeep and I… accidentally scratched it”

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You scratched my Jeep?” she exclaimed, her voice hardening.

“I know, I know” you hurriedly responded, feeling the need to explain yourself quickly before Regina unleashed her wrath on you. “But it wasn’t entirely my fault; there was a kitten in the middle of the road, and I swerved to avoid hitting it. I couldn’t just run over that kitten”

Regina’s expression softened slightly as you explained what happened, but there was still a hint of frustration in her eyes. “So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t let you get off so easily, she had that Jeep custom made for her after all.

“I’ll take it to get repaired” you promised your girlfriend. “I’ll find the best auto body shop in town to make it look as good as new again.”

Regina nodded, seeming to consider your proposal. “Fine” she finally said, this time without any annoyance present in her tone.

“I’ll pay for it, too,” you offered your girlfriend.

“No need. I’ll pay for it with my dad’s credit card. He lets me use it for whatever I want anyway,” Regina said, then smirked. “But I do expect you to make it up to me somehow…”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” you smirked back at your girlfriend.

“Oh, I have some ideas,” Regina spoke, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled you inside the house and up to her room.

The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of massage oil. Regina sat in front of you on her king size bed with her upper body bared as you massaged her shoulders. At first you assumed Regina bared her upper body for… other reasons, but unfortunately for you she just wanted a massage.  

“This was not what I had in mind” you groaned.

“Too bad. Shouldn’t have scratched my car then” your girlfriend snickered. “Now stop complaining, I’m trying to relax and enjoy my massage”

“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath as you continued to massage your girlfriend dutifully.

“Did I just hear something?” your girlfriend teased you.

“No” you quickly denied her accusation.

“I thought so” Regina said smugly. “I also called with Gretchen and Karen before you arrived, you know?”

“Sounds fun” you offered, confused as why your girlfriend would mention this to you in the first place. She called with Gretchen and Karen often to discuss all of the rumours that went around at school, that wasn’t new to you.

“It was, Gretchen told us about a rumour that went around about Janis” your girlfriend snickered, “Karen also told us she got a kitten at home for a day,” she continued her story. You tensed up at this information, your hands stopping their movement at Regina’s shoulders. “Someone brought it to her house and asked her to pet-sit it.”

“How thoughtful of them to think of Karen to pet-sit. She loves-”

“Cut the bullshit. I know it was you” Regina cut you off. “She named him Orange, by the way”

“Are you serious? It’s a black kitten” you frowned in confusion. Karen was something else.

“Yeah, and you allowed Karen to name it. What did you expect?” Regina snorted.

“Fair. Then I guess I’m taking Orange to the vets tomorrow” you shrugged, you were the one that promised Karen she could name the kitten after all.

“And after going to the vets, you’ll get my car detailed on the inside too right?” Regina asked. She hated the mess pets made and doesn’t want it in her Jeep, of all things.

“Absolutely”

“If I see one cat hair in my Jeep when you come back tomorrow, we’re gonna have a problem. Am I clear?” 

“Crystal” you spoke. You knew Regina wasn’t joking about that, she was very serious when it came to her custom pink Jeep.

“Now please continue my massage”

“Alright” you sighed out as you got back to massaging your girlfriend.

She may be bossy and mean sometimes, but you love her all the same.

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Whoever enjoys this fanfic and wants it to continue, please engage with it. Comment and give it a like.

Warning: This chapter will contain inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.This chapter will also feature Aegon II x reader. Those who do not like it, consider yourselves warned.

FOUR SIX

FIVE (+18)

With your hair still damp, you realize you have no idea where the dinner celebrating King Aegon II’s “great conquest” is being held. As a dutiful girl, you stand outside Prince Aemond’s chambers, waiting beside his door. You are certainly not prepared to face any of the sons of the late King Viserys, that much is certain. First and foremost, Prince Aemond likely only keeps you alive for the sake of your dragon. His opinion of you is poor, and it will not be an easy task to change that. As for King Aegon II Targaryen, he has claimed your dragon as his triumph, and it is only a matter of time before he lays claim to you as well.

After what feels like an eternity, Prince Aemond finally emerges from his chambers, his silky hair brushing past you. He walks with haste, but you could swear you glimpsed a hint of a smile on his face, amused, perhaps, by how desperately you follow him. Eventually, the two of you reach a grand room, where a large, bountiful table awaits. Seated there are several figures—among them, you can imagine Queen dowager Alicent and Queen Helaena, along with men of importance whom the King favors enough to keep near. What matters now is that you and Aemond have arrived to take your places at the table, all eyes upon you, while you remain half-hidden behind the One-eyed Prince.

"Brother, come join us. Bring the bastard whore with you; I’ve chosen a special place for the both of you." King Aegon speaks, taking long swigs of his drink, his tone almost gleeful. Prince Aemond turns back to look at you, his gaze offering some semblance of reassurance. He then walks ahead, making his way toward the two vacant seats—one directly across from the King, and the other beside it. You hesitate, uncertain of where you should sit, until Aemond takes his place across from his brother. With a sigh, still unsure of why you’ve been seated next to the King himself, you quietly take your place at Aegon II’s side. As soon as you settle, Aegon seems to revel in your presence, a sly grin playing on his lips, while Aemond’s irritation becomes palpable. Queen Helaena remains composed, though it's clear she’s discomfited by not being seated beside her husband, yet she betrays no outward sign of it. As for the Dowager Queen Alicent, her gaze upon you is filled with disdain, as though your very presence disgusts her, a look of barely concealed nausea crossing her face.

"And what have I missed whilst I was out there, risking my life so that my beloved brother might revel in yet another triumph? I trust you are basking in this small victory claimed in your name, Your Grace," Prince Aemond speaks with veiled mockery, his tone laden with provocation, clearly aiming to stir his brother. The King, however, merely chuckles in response, rising from his seat as he lifts his goblet, maintaining a steady gaze upon Aemond.

"I have a new dragon under my command, brother. Celebrate this with us and cease your sulking—no more complaints. In fact, as you bring with you two pieces of news, tell me, who is the bastard that claimed a dragon on my behalf?" King Aegon II speaks with a slurred voice, clearly intoxicated, as he takes another long swig from his cup before seating himself once more. For a fleeting moment, you feared the brothers might come to blows right before your eyes.

"She is a whore who once worked in a brothel. By chance, I learned she might be a candidate to claim a dragon in your name, Your Grace. Her name is Y/N. One might say she is here both as the rider of Cannibal and as my companion." Prince Aemond speaks with an air of possession, making it clear that you belong to him, even daring to assert this in front of his brother. The King throws his head back and laughs heartily.

"This is an outrage, Aemond. It is one thing for this bastard to be necessary for riding a dragon, but granting her liberties is quite another. She must be treated as any other servant within the Red Keep—or worse than a servant, for the nature of this woman is filthy. I trust the King will agree with this," the Dowager Queen Alicent speaks, her voice dripping with the same disdain her gaze conveyed when you entered the room. Her sons glance at her, seemingly holding back laughter or mocking expressions.

“Filthy or not, mother, this woman will be of utmost importance in ensuring our king's victory against Rhaenyra and her bastards. To treat her as a mere servant would lessen her efficiency in what truly matters, not to mention it leaves her vulnerable. If the bastard dies, we will have a wild dragon without a rider on our hands, and that is a risk we cannot afford,” Prince Aemond declares, calmly taking a bite of food as he finishes his words. Alicent appears momentarily unsettled by her son’s reasoning, her eyes shifting to Aegon, as if seeking his support.

"If my presence displeases the Dowager Queen, I shall take my leave. With your permissions, Your Graces, Your Highnesses," you finally speak, sensing the discomfort your presence has caused. Rising from your seat, you move to step away, but before you can retreat, Aegon seizes your hand with a sudden force, drawing a soft cry from your lips. The king's grip tightens, and the flash of pain seems to amuse him. His gaze locks onto yours, not just with the arrogance you'd expect but with something far more unsettling. His eyes burn with a mixture of hunger and fascination, it feels as though he sees nothing but you, the intensity of his stare sharp and invasive, as if he seeks to consume and control.

The room falls into an uneasy silence as King Aegon II holds you in his gaze, the weight of his attention making your skin prickle. You remain frozen, unsure whether to meet his eyes or look away. The tension only breaks when Aemond clears his throat, the sound harsh, cutting through the stillness. The awkwardness breaks when you hear Aemond clear his throat, the scrape loud and sharp. His expression is dark, fury simmering beneath the surface for reasons unknown.

"Gundjabo, sit down. Your king has not given you leave from the table; and as long as you remain my companion, where I go, you shall be," Prince Aemond commands, his voice calm yet laced with authority, as though he were merely stating a simple truth. Despite the firmness of his words, there’s a measured quality, as if he’s reminding you of an expectation rather than issuing a harsh order. King Aegon II shifts uncomfortably, visibly displeased that his brother spoke before him. The tension between them is palpable, but the thick scent of alcohol clinging to Aegon suggests his ability to assert himself coherently is slipping. His eyes cloud with frustration, though no sharp retort escapes his lips. The haze of drink weighs too heavily on him, making him less dangerous but no less unpredictable in his demeanor.

"Dragons are delicate creatures; to tame one, you must forsake the other. Your survival will depend on this," Queen Helaena murmurs, her hand gently gripping your arm just as you make to sit again. Her gaze is heavy with sorrow, perhaps even anguish, as though she pities you deeply. The weight of her words lingers, leaving you unsettled and confused, though you dare not disregard the queen’s cryptic warning. With a quiet nod, you gently remove her hand from your arm, your fingers brushing hers in a gesture of respect. You offer a slight bow of your head, as if signaling your understanding, though in truth, the meaning behind her words remains a mystery to you.

"My wife’s mind is clouded. She must be in need of rest," King Aegon II declares, his voice languid, as though half-expecting someone to escort the queen away. The Dowager Queen takes a sip from her goblet, her gaze cold and unreadable. With a nod of reluctant duty, she rises, helping her daughter to her feet. Together, they leave the hall. It’s clear that Alicent seized the opportunity to withdraw, no doubt irritated at having to dine in the presence of someone she deems as filthy as you. Helaena, however, seems shaken, likely still grieving the loss of her son. You cannot help but feel a twinge of empathy for her. Having lost your own mother not long ago, you understand the pain of trying to remain composed after a great loss. The weight of grief can be unbearable, and you imagine Helaena is suffering under its relentless pressure.

"We should return to our celebration," King Aegon II declares, his voice thick with drink and a trace of a grin forming on his lips. "Soon enough, we shall be feasting over the defeat of my sister, the maker of bastards." He raises his cup again, indulging in yet another long sip. You quietly take your seat, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of so many eyes. Though the room hums with voices, you can feel the unwavering gaze of Prince Aemond on you, as if his watchful eye would catch even the smallest misstep. The tension lingers, but you remain silent, unsure of what fate awaits you in this unpredictable court. The fact that you are being watched by Prince Aemond in itself is not a challenge until King Aegon II begins to run his hand under your thigh. The fabric of your dress is what separates his hand from getting dangerously close to your pussy. You bite your lip lightly as you try to hide it, as King Aegon II continues to touch you.

It is undeniably awkward, feeling the touch of the King upon you, yet a gnawing intuition suggests this was his intention from the moment he chose to seat you beside him. Stranger still, Prince Aemond seems fully aware of the King’s actions, though his silent fury is evident as he continues to eat, his movements tense with unspoken rage. Deciding to test the waters, you gently place your hand atop King Aegon II’s, running your fingers softly across his skin. His response is immediate; a faint sound of surprise escapes him, as if your touch unsettled him. However, moments later, he pulls his hand away, only to lean in closer, his breath warm against your ear. His voice, low and thick with intent, whispers, "I shall be waiting for you in my chambers." The words send a jolt through you, and you almost choke on the piece of bread in your mouth.

The remainder of the dinner passes with far less tension once King Aegon II rises to address the other guests, his attention mercifully drawn elsewhere. Seizing the opportunity, you quietly decide to slip away, hoping to escape the lingering eyes and unspoken threats. Rising from your seat, you move with practiced stealth, making your way out of the hall. A walk through the darkened corridors of the castle feels necessary—anything to clear your mind from the weight of the night's events and to gather your thoughts about what may come next. However, your solitude is cut short when, without warning, a hand grabs you and drags you into a nearby room. Another hand quickly covers your mouth, stifling your startled gasp. Panic flares briefly, but then you recognize the touch, the familiar grip.

"What business do you have with my brother?" Prince Aemond inquires, his hands firmly gripping you—one at your waist and the other covering your mouth. Despite the inappropriateness of the moment, you find yourself enjoying his evident jealousy. He impatiently waits for your response only to realize that he must remove his hand from your mouth to allow you to answer him.

"Your Highness, your brother is my sovereign. Aside from that, there exists no connection between us. Should there be any misunderstanding, permit me to clarify that I harbor no intention of causing offense to anyone." You speak with an air of feigned innocence, aware that deceiving the Prince is of utmost necessity. Otherwise, your carefully laid plans may be imperiled, and you have not endured so much only to face failure now.

"Do you presume to deceive me? Gundjabo, I trust you understand the peril of attempting to mislead me. I am well aware that he was touching you, likely suggesting a meeting later. Pray tell, what could possess His Grace to take such an interest in you?" Aemond speaks with a sadistic edge, a near diabolical laugh escaping his lips upon concluding his words. You ponder how to respond appropriately but soon realize that a different approach may prove more effective. Drawing the Prince's face closer to yours, you lean in as though to kiss him. The tension in the air is palpable, intoxicating; the scent of Aemond envelops you as you claim his lips as if they were rightfully yours. This time you are in control of the kiss, devouring Aemond's lips. His tongue is battling with yours for dominance in the kiss but when you pull his hair back a little, you see him get lost in you. His hands now dominantly holding your waist, you using your hand to massage his cock over his clothes. Even though you just relieved him a few moments ago, he already seems excited. And then you push Prince Aemond away, pushing him away abruptly.

"I trust I have alleviated your doubts, Your Highness. However, should this demonstration fail to satisfy, allow me to use words. Your brother, our beloved King, desires from me what any other might wish. Do not forget, you refer to me as gundjabo for a reason. I wish you a pleasant evening, Prince Aemond." With that, you swiftly exit the chamber. As you leave, you hear a loud noise behind you, prompting a smile to grace your lips. It is evident that you are toying with fire, yet at this moment, it is the best course of action you can take.

As you regain your composure, you begin to traverse the corridors behind the chambers of King Aegon II. The castle is vast, yet your determination drives you forward. His goal is to gain some sort of influence over King Aegon II, if screwing him is what he has to do, it will be done. It wouldn't be the first time you've given yourself to him anyway.

"Are you looking for me?" The King speaks as he leans against the door of what you assume to be his chambers. Your gaze towards him is like that of a predator seeing its prey. As if the fire within you was ignited by your previous encounter with Prince Aemond, you don't take long to attack King Aegon II's lips, kissing him. His lips are like pure alcohol, you feel like you're losing your breath but not in a sexual way. He awkwardly tries to put his arms around you, but you quickly hold him against the door to his chambers. He doesn't know where to put his hands, he needs you to have dominance.

"Your Grace, we are too exposed. Queen Helaena might be nearby, which would be an inconvenience. Don't you think it would be more prudent to keep our distance?" You speak with feigned innocence, almost bordering on naivety. You even gently place your hands on Aegon's face, like he used to love you doing the times he went to the brothel.

"I am the King. I will not keep my distance from anyone I do not want. And right now, I want you in my chambers." Aegon speaks with a certain firmness, but the goofy way he says it almost makes you laugh. You decide to pretend to take him seriously.

"I am nothing more than your servant, Your Grace. If King Aegon II wants me, I must be his." Those words leave a bitter taste in his mouth but he seems to believe you. He gives you an awkward kiss and then pushes you into his chambers. As he suddenly opened the door to his quarters, you ended up falling on top of him who was leaning against the door. He laughed out loud, while you were already getting less horny. Then his firm hand pulls your face close to his, forcing a kiss on you. The kiss is hard, he doesn't know whether to use his tongue or bite your mouth. His hands are playing with the detail of your dress, which is holding the back of it together. In the middle of the messy kiss while you're under him, he unties the detail of your dress. This causes your dress to almost fall down and reveal your naked body.

"Be mine, you bastard whore. I promise you that if you give me your wet little pussy, I will give you as many bastards as you want." King Aegon II has a habit of talking nonsense after getting drunk. You're already adapted, you were the prostitute he fucked for a few years. You kiss him to shut him up, trying to show him how to kiss in a more attractive way. You suck his tongue, slowly; while your eyes are closed. You'd be lying if you didn't say that with your eyes closed, you can imagine yourself kissing Prince Aemond. Aemond may be a greater risk to your safety but he knows how to turn someone on like no one else.

"Your Grace, I want to try to do something. I assure you that you will like it." You say, practically sitting on top of Aegon's dick. Either your kiss is really good or the drink has already taken over him, because all he does is mumble something that sounds like an authorization. Either way, you rip the hem of your dress, taking the torn piece of fabric and using it to blindfold King Aegon II.

"What are you up to, whore?" King Aegon II says as he runs his hands all over your body. You tear the dress from your body, and any other clothing you were wearing. Taking advantage from the King's vulnerable moment, you remove the pieces of King Aegon II's clothing. In reality you only remove the essentials so he can fuck you.

"I just want you to feel good, Your Majesty," you reply, almost whispering against the King's ear. You giggle lightly as you feel him drag his nails down your thigh. Before riding his cock, you kiss him. In the middle of the kiss, his hands go to your face and hold you firmly. Then you position his dick at the entrance of your pussy, going down and up his dick. He smiles, even blindfolded; for a moment you imagine what it must be like to ride Prince Aemond. Him with his eye patch, would it be like this? If you could now, you would leave Aegon only partially blindfolded to get a better idea of what it would be like. The hands of King Aegon II, hold your breasts, massaging them while it seems that he wants to be connected to you in any way possible. You still going up and down on his cock, kissing his neck while moaning his name. You start to increase the friction between your pussy and his cock when you feel he is about to cum. For a moment between the moans of both of you, you throw your head back continuing to ride the King's cock, but imagining what it would be like if you could taste his brother's cock. Your reveries are only interrupted when King Aegon II aggressively touches your nipples, trying to stimulate them. The feeling is nice so you end up moaning even more, maybe even a little too loudly. It is then that King Aegon II, groping you, pulls you closer to him and kisses you aggressively. He bites your lip, with such force that it cuts your lip, causing some blood to come out. The taste of your blood is in his mouth, which seems to excite him as he moves his waist more as if he wants to give stronger thrusts while he forces his lips against yours even with your blood being all he will taste.

"Your taste is so delicious that it should be reserved just for me . Your mother was right, you are special. You seem to have been made to be eaten by Targaryens. It's even in your blood." He speaks against your mouth while you were still kissing. Shortly after he cums inside you, while his hands are pressed against your back. You could stop fucking King Aegon II, but you were too eager to feel something. So you continued to move up and down on his cock, grinding a little. King Aegon II didn't seem to mind, especially when you stood over him, kissing his chest, then slowly moving your kisses up to his neck, biting him lightly but you wanted to bite him until you ripped off his skin. As your hands were passing close to his neck, you imagined yourself pressing your hands tightly against his throat. But you kept kissing him, from his neck to his lips. While fucking yourself using his cock, at least that's what it looked like. Finally as you kiss him, you cum under him. He also apparently managed to cum a second time.

"I must leave your chambers, Your Grace. Know that I am grateful that you have welcomed me into your chambers," you say as you climb off of King Aegon II, removing the piece of cloth from his eyes. Then you start to dress again while the King, sits on the floor, half naked; watching you.

"There's no need to be so urgent about leaving. Helaena isn't sharing quarters with me. To be honest, I haven't fucked her since Jaehaerys died." Aegon opens up to you as you finish getting yourself decently dressed. Strangely enough, he seems genuinely sad, you just don't know if it's because of his son's death or because he can't fuck with his wife.

"I am certain that, in time, Queen Helaena will return to your chambers, even if only with the purpose of granting you an heir to the throne," you say softly, seating yourself upon the floor near the King. He approaches, his touch light as his fingers graze your face.

"I do not have the luxury of waiting for Helaena to grant me another son," King Aegon declares, his tone unguarded, as though he is not concealing the gravity of his words. "We are in the midst of war. My son was my legacy, and with his death, it is only a matter of time before my claim to the throne weakens. I need a legitimate male heir to pass the crown to when the time comes." His words are spoken as if ridding himself of his wife were a mere formality, nothing more.

"Your Grace will surely find the best course to resolve this dilemma, just as you shall win this war. By the grace of the Seven, you will prevail. With your leave, I must attend to the obligations of your brother’s company." You rise to leave, but King Aegon II seizes your hand.

"Outside these chambers, you may be a dragonrider, Aemond's companion, or whatever else proves convenient, but within my quarters, you are mine. My whore. Have I made myself clear?" His words send a chill through you, the bluntness unnerving. In response, you take his hand, kneel before him, and press your lips to his in a kiss, one that you strive to make seem spontaneous and tender, masking your dread with feigned affection.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. I bid you a good night." You murmur as your lips part from King Aegon II's, maintaining an air of composure despite the tumult within. With deliberate grace, you rise and depart from his chambers, your gown partially torn, the weight of what you have set into motion pressing heavily upon you. The realization that you are treading into the dragon’s den, fully aware that you may emerge burnt or broken, settles like a shadow over your resolve. Yet, no act of vengeance is without its cost. You understand this well. You shall endure, for the memory of your mother demands retribution—even if it should be your last undertaking.

"My mother was right about you. You truly are a filthy whore. If you've finished entertaining my brother, gundjabo, I believe your dragon would greatly appreciate your company tonight." Prince Aemond's voice takes on a deeper, more menacing tone, clearly seething with irritation. He had been standing near Aegon’s chambers, likely waiting. You offer no retort, silently accepting his words as you watch him stride away, his silver hair swaying with his steps, his presence intimidating and cold. All that remains is your hope that Cannibal will be in a forgiving mood, willing to offer you refuge for the night.

  GLOSSARY

Gundjabo - Prostitute

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (27/∞) ♛

↬ The Westminster Aquamarines

The Sunderlandian royal family has several magnificent parures of aquamarine jewellery. One of these collections, the Westminster Aquamarines, features some of the royal family’s oldest and most iconic jewels; uncovering their history takes us back nearly two hundred years. In 1830s, Sunderland was a lone constitutional monarchy in North America, bordered by the United States in the northeast and Mexico to the southwest. The early 19th century had seen the country’s steady expansion westward thanks to territorial acquisitions from the Spanish and British. This period of territorial and economic growth, however, was cut short by the early death of Sunderland’s Hereditary Prince in 1835. Hereditary Prince Frederick James was just shy of thirty, the only son of King Louis III and his beloved first wife, Princess Amelia of the United Kingdom. Freddie was also the only legitimate male-line grandson of King Louis II, as a result, his death complicated Sunderland’s succession. The question of who would succeed Louis III ignited a fierce rivalry among the King’s younger brothers, as they scrambled to marry and produce an heir to the throne. The Duke of Lennox and St. George, the King’s first brother and heir presumptive, married an obscure German princess. The Duke of Glencairn, the King’s second brother, married the daughter of a wealthy British statesman. But it was the King’s fifth brother, Prince Augustus, the Duke of Westminster, who looked for a bride closer to home. Lady Martha Whitley was twenty years younger than her husband-to-be, a descendant of the Prussian nobility that migrated to Sunderland following the election of Prince Heinrich of Prussia as King Louis I of Sunderland, Martha hailed from one of Sunderland’s oldest aristocratic families. Unlike some of her foreign, and significantly younger, sisters-in-law Martha was shrewd and held a deep familiarity of Sunderland's court life, this was reflected in her impressive jewelry collection. On her wedding day, Martha was gifted a small box of aquamarine pendants of various shapes and sizes. As Martha’s prominence at court grew, the aquamarines became known as the Duchess of Westminster’s Aquamarines. Over the years, the Duchess incorporated the aquamarines into a few pieces of jewelry including a necklace and a pair of earrings. The tensions surrounding Sunderland’s succession died down when the British-born Prince George of Glencairn became king in 1860. By then Westminsters had three children, Prince Louis, who became Duke of Westminster following his father’s death in 1877; Prince Thomas, and Princess Elizabeth Anne. The family was popular with nobility and the public alike, but they weren’t without their scandals. After Prince Louis enraged King George by marrying without permission, his subsequent children were declared illegitimate and barred from inheritance. Finding a suitable wife for Prince Thomas, now heir to the Westminster Dukedom, became a top priority. In 1876, Prince Thomas met and fell in love with Princess Marie of Hanover, a male-line great-granddaughter of King George III and therefore a British princess. The couple married in 1880, but struggled to have children. In 1887, their only surviving child was born in the presence of Queen Alexandra. The little princess, given the lengthy name Alexandra Anne Martha Georgina Dagmar Gloriana Marie, would be known to history as Princess Anne of Westminster. Growing up, Anne was placed in the direct care of her Dear Granny Martha.

My grandmother was magnificent. She was kind but strict, with old-fashioned ideas about how a princess should be brought up. - Queen Anne of Sunderland, circa 1953

The Duchess of Westminster had high hopes for her only male-line granddaughter. Indeed, Anne’s maternal cousins were well-connected to the British and Danish royals, as well as the Imperial families of Russia and Germany. By the time Anne was twenty, she’d been taken on several trips to Europe, excursions she came to loathe. Anne’s anxiety worsened when she was rejected by several families. After her mother died in Austria, Anne returned from Europe “alone and feeling rather sorry for myself”. Back in Sunderland, Anne made friends with her second cousin once-removed, Prince George, the Duke of Woodbine and eldest son of the Prince and Princess of Danforth. Over the years, the pair’s friendship developed into a romance and in 1911, King George allowed the couple to marry. That same year, the Duchess of Westminster died, and Anne inherited the largest jewel collection in the royal vault, aquamarines included. Anne and George married in 1913. Anne, now Duchess of Woodbine, was one the most dynastically important ladies at court and she set to work reworking her grandmother’s jewels into spectacular works of art. For King George and Queen Alexandra’s 1920 Diamond Jubilee, Anne commissioned Garrard to work the aquamarines into a parure that included a necklace, a choker, two brooches, and a pair of earrings. The parure paired nicely with the aquamarine Georgiyevna Tiara, which entered the family in the early 1920s. To this day, the Georgiyevna aquamarines are often mistaken for those of the Westminster set, showing how ubiquitous they’ve become with the main-line royal family’s collection. When Anne became Queen in 1930, she wore the aquamarines. Despite her overflowing jewellery box, the aquamarines were evidently her favourite and became synonymous with her name and legacy. The Westminster aquamarines have remained iconic long after Queen Anne’s time. Queen Irene became another famous wearer of the suite, wearing the choker as both a necklace and a headband in the 1980s. Queen Anne was an important figure to Irene during the early years of her marriage, and she wears nearly all of the jewels her grandmother-in-law left to her. In the 2010s, Tatiana, then the Princess of Danforth was seen in bits and pieces of the suite, notably the choker, signalling that the jewels will be carried on into the next generation.

Queen Anne of Sunderland, wife of King George II, wears the Westminster aquamarines with the Georgiyevna tiara for a promotional image, circa 1930

Queen Irene of Sunderland, wearing a powder blue satin evening gown along with the Westminster aquamarine choker as a headband, attends a gala dinner on April 30, 1984 in Auckland, New Zealand

[rynnthefangirl]

Ranking Aegon Targaryens by how much I like them:

1. Aegon III- My boy. My beloved. My poor little meow meow. It’s not even a contest y’all. I love angsty characters and Aegon Dragonbane takes the cake. Also his relationships with his family are so sweet🥺 and he has such a pure heart🥺 So many characters respond to their suffering by turning to hate or revenge or violence or selfishness. But Aegon III? His spirit was broken, and in the wake of all that he clung not to any of those things, but to family and compassion and his duty to his people. He's so tragically beautiful and I want to know every last detail of his reign George please.

2. Aegon V- who doesn't adore Egg?? He's so pure, but also low key unhinged, and what a wonderful combo! He is the One True Pro-Smallfolk King of Westeros, and I love seeing him have to confront the elitist feudal mindset he was raised with in the Dunk and Egg novellas. Also the tragedy of his character is utterly heartbreaking-- doomed by the narrative, all of Egg's lofty and noble goals lead inevitably to Fire and Blood at Summerhall. I would sell my soul for the Dunk and Egg novellas to be completed and to read a POV of Summerhall.

3. Aegon IV- controversial placement I know, but hear me out— he’s really really funny. Like seriously his character is so wildly entertaining. The biggest menace in the history of Westeros, King of Spite, the Ultimate Hater. His dynamic with his family is fascinating too. I want so badly to read about the interactions between him and Daeron, Viserys, Aemon, Daemon… I also want a POV story for this guy, I feel like his thought process would just be the most out of pocket thing ever.

4. Aegon son of Elia- Okay I haven’t got to Young Griff yet in the books and so it's kind of hard to rank a character I only have secondhand fandom knowledge of. Based on what I know of him though he seems cool? Of course he probably isn't the real Aegon, but even so baby Aegon is a sad and heartbreaking figure (justice for Elia!!! justice for Rhaenys!!! justice for baby Aegon!!!).

5. Aegon the Uncrowned - this poor boy is so so tragic. Say it with me folks- fuck Maegor!!!

6. Aegon I - I mean he is fine I guess? I don't have much of a strong opinion on him. Mostly I just think he's boring.

7. Aegon son of Aerys II and Rhaella - he's a baby.

8. Aegon son of Alyssa and Baelon- he's a baby.

9. Aegon son of Alysanne and Jaehaerys- he's a baby.

10. Aegon Lord of Dragonstone- I literally know nothing about him.

11. An empty spot just to emphasize how much I hate the last character on this list.

12. Aegon II- Fuck this asshole so much. I probably would like Aegon II fine as a character if his fans weren’t so insufferable (not all of them, just a subset). Nothing will turn me off a morally grey or evil character faster then hordes of people crying that he's actually just a poor victim who never had any choice or agency. Guess what— he did. He was a grown ass man and the most powerful person in the realm, he chose to be a rapist, he chose to accept and keep a crown that wasn’t his, he chose to start a war that killed thousands. I have literally zero empathy for this selfish prick, every thing that happens to him he asked for and I wish he had gotten worse.

[visenyaism]

Top 5 asoiaf historical characters or top 5 povs to read from ?

my favorite chapter of all time still goes to the tyrion boat school chapter in adwd but in terms of favorite POVs to read?

6. joncon- giving myself a bonus one to talk about how reading his chapters made me feel like i was dissolving like a powerpoint transition. there’s just so much grief and love and bitterness and doom packed into there it is unreal.

5. sam- gender. he is just so special i’ve never read a fantasy protag quite like samwell tarly and his quest to realize his compassion, empathy, and courage are his greatest strengths despite being discouraged by hypermasculine violent feudal society. he is the real protagonist of asoiaf to me.

4. jonsnow- i liked his pov’s in all the books, but ADWD where he is just trying as hard as possible not to be the protagonist after going though like 4 different genres (can u BELIEVE he started off as a boarding school protagonist) even though he literally has super strengthis so beloved to me. His ongoing crisis where he has to realize that despite everything everyone tries to impose on him he has only ever been just himself is so so real (just as real as him being king beyond the wall. btw) though getting immediately killed for it has to be a downer. MY son was turncloak of the month at castle black👍

3. Jaime- he’s funny. he’s cringe. he stares a lot for someone who can’t fight. he’s delusional. he can’t fit a whole knight in his head. he hasn’t emotionally matured past the age of seventeen. everything he says is insane and also heartbreaking. i love jaime POVs so much y’all don’t get it.

2. Cersei- reading cersei i for the first time last year rewired my brain and i was loud about it. Unlike cersei i was not raised by a fascist nightmare but as a nonbinary girltwin i can say that getting raised alongside a direct example of what your life would’ve been like without misogyny can be very hard, especially when you hit puberty and the “your brother is a person and you are the girl one” starts to get even louder. I was fucking alarmed how personally compelling her weird gender thoughts were given EVERYTHING else the Lannister twins have going on that is NOT personally relevant to me. Don’t know how george rr martin old cishet man that he is knew about any of that.

She’s completely delusional, and at times her mental gymnastics are so so fucking funny, but the like roiling layer of unspeakable (literally unspeakable she refuses to speak or acknowledge it) pain and fear underneath is what got me really. Watching her scheme out of arrogance and mortal terror really just to gain respect and bodily autonomy (though in the Tywin way where freedom from abuse and the “right” to abuse others are the same thing) and then just losing everything incredibly fucking hard was really compelling. i hope you win.

1. Melisandre- wait i said another chapter was my favorite of all time in this post? no i didn’t not when melisandre i is in the room. i have talked about this one extensively and probably will do so again. Finding out that r’hllor is literally her enslaved and her entire black and white apocalyptic worldview is her attempt to feel safe within that truth because she is still just a scared little girl at heart who needs what she’s saying to be true because if it’s not none of her suffering was worth it was the revelation of all time. That and the revelation that she actually does have a human attachment to Davos to the point that she’s watching over his son to spare him the grief. We WILL get melisandre ii in this lifetime and it will break my heart all over again because she is going to outlive stannis and have to survive the worldview shattering.

[k1ranishf4]

Ethnicity in JJBA

I love that Araki decided to use different ethnicities for his characters and I could talk about it all day, to be honest.

Like, it all started with George I, Dario, Jonathan and Erina, and George II and Lisa Lisa as British people and then Joseph decided he likes Italians.

Boom: half-British half-Italian Holly Joestar who married a Japanese musician = half-Japanese, quarter Italian and quarter British Jotaro Kujo.

Jolyne is half-American, quarter Japanese and one eighth Italian and British each.

Josuke: half-Japanese and half-British, just like Giorno.

The only difference is that Giorno’s living in Italy because his mother said “yo I have a thing for European men” and married an Italian who forced Giorno to say goodbye to his Japanese origin.

As for his half brothers, all we know is that their mothers were all American. But I like to think that Rikiel’s mother is/was black, just like I do for the Costello sisters.

I have to admit, I was confused at first when I saw that Gloria didn’t have dark skin or dark hair like Hermes before I realized that they could be mixed, and the same goes for the Pucci children. Plus, it’s canon that Ermes is Mexican (I’m just not sure if half- or fully) and Pucci is Italian or Italo-American, which are also little details that I really love.

One thing that will always have a special place in my heart is Avdol being Egyptian. It has never been mentioned, but I like to think that he’s also muslim. Which is really important to me since I haven’t really seen a piece of media from non-muslim parts of the world that represented muslims accordingly. They’re either shown as terrorists or don’t exist at all. So this was extremely refreshing and he’s also black AND canonically OP af?? I love.

Japanese Noriaki Kakyoin with red hair? Now that’s what I like to see. I think he’s also a part of the Has Been Bullied Club and he was a very lonely child, so being with the Crusaders must’ve been really important to him.

Not to forget our beloved Frenchman Polnareff. I love how he switches to French just to emphasize things or when he’s too frustrated to even think in English. I relate a lot to that, especially because English is my third language of six languages in total.

I’ve also seen the headcanon of Rohan possibly being Indian or having Indian ancestors and while I don’t agree with that, it has actually crossed my mind when I heard his name for the first time (cliché, I know I’m sorry). It could also be that his parents just liked the sound of the name and that’s all to it, which I think was more the case.

Little things like these give me the freedom to headcanon whatever I want.

For example, I love the thought of Holly learning English and Italian from her parents and then teaching those to Jotaro, who then taught Italian and Japanese to Jolyne.

Or a crossover where the other JoJos and GioGio meet Jodio and Hermes starts laughing her ass off because of the Spanish meaning of the word jodio.

Or, on the angsty side of things, Jotaro being bullied by older students because he’s “only” half-Japanese. Just like Giorno was bullied (although I do not remember if it actually was because of his heritage, but I think so).

Not taking Part 7 – Part 9 characters into the equation because I haven’t finished reading Steel Ball Run yet, which means I didn’t even think about JoJolion and The JoJoLands.

[otmaaromanovas]

I've read every single book I can find on the Romanovs but would like some help finding more books. I just found your blog and I love it!

Hello, thanks for your question. Here are some of my favourite more obscure books for those of you who have read all you can find and raided the libraries!

The Romanovs Under House Arrest: From the 1917 Diary of a Palace Priest edited by Marilyn Pfeifer Swezey 

A short, but interesting and beautifully illustrated book that translated the diaries of Archpriest Afanasy Belyaev into English. It gives an insightful look into the last few months and weeks the Romanovs spent at the Alexander Palace and their faith.

LUNCH ON THE BALCONY: Recipes from the table of Russia’s last imperial family by Helen Azar

Can you tell I'm hungry right now? This book has some nice information about the Romanov's food, showing menus they used, letters and diary entries referencing food, and recipes used in the imperial kitchen that you can try at home.

Last Years of the Court at Tsarskoe Selo Volumes I and II by Count Alexander Spiridovich, edited and translated by Katherine Alexandra Hines

A lengthy look at the Count's role as a member of court and security duties. These volumes have some interesting passages about OTMA, though they focus more on the political activities of the Romanovs.

The Forgotten Tutor: John Epps and the Romanovs by John Epps and Dr. Gabriella Land

John Epps, an English tutor to the imperial children, remains a somewhat elusive figure in literature about the Romanovs, with very little information available about him in comparison to fellow tutors Gilliard and Gibbes. I have personally found it very difficult trying to track down this book as it was published a decade ago and seems to have only had one limited print run. The extracts that I have read have been very interesting. If you're interested in OTMA's childhood and education, this book is perfect for you - but good luck finding it! :(

A Few Years Before the Catastrophe: The memoirs of Sofia Ivanovna Tyutcheva edited and translated by George Hawkins

A very short but interesting read directly from the recollections of Sofia Ivanovna Tyutcheva who looked after the children. It gives a short but enlightening look at how things were run in the nursery.

When Miss Emmie Was in Russia: English Governesses Before, During and After the October Revolution by Harvey Pitcher

This book has a more sweeping view of Russian nannies in general, but has some nice tidbits of information about OTMA's nannies, such as Margaret Eagar (though she was Irish, not English!). If you enjoyed Charlotte Zeepvat's book on royal nannies that has some great info and sources on OTMA, this is a good follow up read.

Step-daughter of Imperial Russia by Natalia Mamontova Majolier

Recollections from Natalia "Tata", Grand Duke Mikhail Alexandrovich's beloved stepdaughter. Lots of information about growing up with Mikhail and experiencing the Revolution.

Russia, My Native Land: A U.S. Engineer Reminisces and Looks at the Present by Gregory Tschebotarioff (Chebotaryov)

Written by the son of Grand Duchess Olga and Tatiana Nikolaevna's fellow nurse and friend, Valentina Ivanovna Chebotaryova, this memoir gives a greater picture of Valentina's life by including extracts of her diary. It also has details about Gregory's experience serving in WWI.

Anastasia's Sisters: Their Diaries, Letters and Memories edited by Raegan Baker and translated by Catherine Hamel

A short book with extracts from Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, and Maria's writings. I always find it interesting to read different translations of the same sources and find various changes made my each translator. As always, translations rely on the translator's discretion and interpretations.

The Many Deaths of Tsar Nicholas II by Wendy Slater

This book is an academic, somewhat cold and clinical, look at the deaths of the Romanov family. The compilation of scientific analysis (though this was published in 2007, so not accurate to recent discoveries) during the middle sections is the best part of this book, as the fictionalised narrative at the start doesn't appeal to me and the analysis during the latter stages veers off focus.

The Jewel Album of Tsar Nicholas II and a Collection of Private Photographs of the Russian Imperial Family by Alexander von Solodkoff

A lovely illustrated book - if you can afford it!! This regularly sells for over $100, but is very detailed and beautiful, including high-quality full-colour copies of Nicholas' "Jewel Album" with his annotations and marvellous drawings.

My Father by Maria Rasputina

For fans of the infamous Rasputin, this glimpse into how daughter Maria perceived her father is an interesting read. Rasputin is one of the most contentious and well-researched figures in this area of history, and reading his daughter's experiences and how she viewed his healing of Tsarevich Alexei is a unique viewpoint.

The Emperor Nicholas II: As I Knew Him by John Hanbury-Williams

Major-General Sir John Hanbury-Williams provides an intimate look at life during WWI in Russia, from the perspective of his role as an English representative at Stavka. Some interesting observations about Nicholas and Alexei.

Lost Tales: Stories for the Tsar's Children by Gleb Botkin

Gleb Botkin, only seventeen, composed and illustrated this series of tales (collected here as one book) for the imperial children during their imprisonment at Tobolsk. A lovely look into Gleb's artistic skills, and the interesting parallels between his animal characters and the revolution. Not necessarily a history book, but an interesting insight into life at Tobolsk.

In case I missed any, if you search #q and #answered on my blog it will come up with a list of previous questions, a lot of which relate to reading recommendations, so you might find some more suggestions there.

For information of a compilation of primary source writings written by the Romanovs that have been translated into English, see here

Happy reading!

[simshousewindsor]

By Shon Gableton | Published by SNN

BUCKINGSIMSHIRE, Windenburg (SNN) - - Queen Katherine I gave the 2nd Christmas Speech of her reign.

The Queen's Christmas speech is a tradition that involves recording a message that reflects on the year's events and the monarch's feelings about Christmas. This year's speech was recorded a few weeks before Christmas, from Buckingsim Palace.

In a nod to the late Queen Dowager (who died in November), Queen Katherine wore her Rubi and Diamond Lover's Knot Brooch. Made by Hammond Jewels in 1903, and given to Queen Zarah by Edward II for Christmas in 1958. The palace announced the brooch was left to the Queen by the Queen Dowager. The Queen first wore the brooch, then on loan from the late Queen Dowager, when she announced Phillip as Prince of Brindleton Bay in March 2023.

Queen Katherine also displayed photos of royal family members on her desk; a tradition started by her grandfather, Edward II, in 1941.

This year displaying the late Queen Dowager's 1942 Official State Portrait, the Royal Family's 2024 Summer portrait (taken at Beaverdam), and the Windenburg Royal Family's Official portrait taken at Buckingsim Palace in June 2024.

The Queens 6-minute speech ended with:

"Great opportunities lie before us. Indeed a large part of the sims world looks to the Commonwealth for a lead. We have already gone far towards discovering for ourselves how different nations, from North and South, from East and West, can live together in friendly simblrhoods, pooling the resources of each for the benefit of all. The Christmas message to each of us is indivisible; there can be no "Peace on simblr" without "Goodwill toward sims". Scientists talk of 'chain reaction' - of power releasing yet more power. This principle must be most true when it is applied to the greatest power of all: the power of love. My beloved father, King George I, in one of his broadcasts when I was a little girl, called upon all his sims in these words: "Let each of you be ready and proud to give to his country the service of his work, his mind and his heart." That is surely the first step to set in motion the 'chain reaction' of the Powers of Light, to illuminate the new age ahead of us. As this Christmas passes by, and time resumes its march, let us resolve that the spirit of Christmas shall stay with us as we journey into the unknown year that lies ahead."

[queenviserra]

Ride

"There were ways to prevent all of this from happening." The Pale Prince's voice puts an end to the silence. Baelon blinks in relief from his deathbed. The presence of his beloved brother was comforting. He knew he was dying, and the only reason he wasn't in pain anymore was the milk of the poppy that the grand maester had given him in a rather large amount.

"It was my daughter who was supposed to sit on the Iron Throne, dear brother, not you. Accepting our father's decision and taking her crown was a mistake that you made, and now it's too late to fix it." Aemon's shadow said.

"I'll try; I want to try." These final words were spoken by the Spring Prince before his descent into delirium. "Please grant me permission to try."

"There's nothing else we can do, my king." The grand maester apologized. "Our Prince is dying. He's already long gone from the world of the living."

"And I wish he would take me along," the Old King wept. But Baelon Targaryen was already on his way through the Stranger's long journey, until the light became a fiery ball and three gods of Old Valyria appeared to him.

Notes:

In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the SummerofDove2024 collection.

Prompt:

as baelon draws his final breath, the old gods of valyria attack him with visions of the impending dance of dragons. he wakes up young again, brimming with new-found purpose to save the realm from war and the death of dragons- albeit the only way is a marriage to his young niece.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character DeathUnderage

Category:

F/M

Fandoms:

A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. MartinA Song of Ice and Fire & Related FandomsHouse of the Dragon (TV)

Relationship:

Baelon Targaryen (Son of Jaehaerys I)/Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon

Characters:

Rhaenys Targaryen VelaryonBaelon Targaryen (Son of Jaehaerys I)

Additional Tags:

Grooming, Age Difference, Breeding, Fix-It of Sorts, No Dance of the Dragons | War For Succession Between Aegon II and Rhaenyra Targaryen Never Happens

Language:

English

Collections:

Summer of Dove 2024, Fire Blood and Kink

[asoiafcanonjonsnow]

Snow Bros: The Parallel Journeys of Simon and Jon Snow

Simon Snowlock Art: Credit || Jon Snow Art: Credit

It’s not a secret that George R.R. Martin was inspired by the fantasy series “Memory, Sorrow & Thorn” when he was writing ASOIAF. Here is what he has said himself on the subject:

"Tad’s fantasy series, The Dragonbone Chair and the rest of his famous four-book trilogy was one of the things that inspired me to write my own seven-book trilogy."

Source

The premise of “Memory, Sorrow & Thorn” is the political turmoil in a country after the King dies while in the far North, supernatural creatures are about to destroy mankind. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

We won’t list here all the similarities between those two series (which are a lot, mind you!) because the focus of this meta are the parallels between Simon Snowlock (MS&T's Main Character) and our Jon Snow.

Both start their series as fourteen year old boys who are unaware of their true royal lineage. Simon’s father was a descendant of Eahlstan Fiskerne King of the Hayholt. Rhaegar Targaryen was the son and heir to King Aerys II Targaryen and through his father, he is the descendant of all the Targaryens that ruled Westeros.

Simon’s father was already dead by the time he was born while his mother lived long enough to name him (his real name is Seoman, by the way!) before she died in her childbirth bed. Similarly, Rhaegar died at the Trident before Lyanna gave birth to Jon. Lyanna lived long enough to ask her brother to protect her son “Promise me, Ned” and perhaps to also to name him? There is a lot speculation within the fandom that Jon was given a different name by his mother. "He was no Aemon Targaryen." (wink, wink) Perhaps a Targaryen one, befitting a son of a Targaryen Prince?

Simon lived his whole life as a kitchen boy in the Hayholt’s castle, like Jon lived his as a bastard of Winterfell. People in Hayholt’s castle called him “Ghost Boy” and interestingly enough, that’s the name Jon choses to give to his beloved Direwolf, 'Ghost'.

At the beginning of the first book, both characters are forced to leave their childhood home and their story is heavily intertwined with the supernatural creatures of the North.

Both boys have powerful, magical dreams. Simon has his prophetic visions and Jon has his wolf dreams, and some prophetic visions (him seeing Benjen dying), the crypt dreams that haunt him.

During Simon’s fight with an ice dragon, he gets a scar to his left eye and also a lock of white hair and he is said to be “marked by the dragon”. Jon already has a similar scar but he doesn’t have a lock of white hair. Could he possibly acquire that post his resurrection as a hint for his true lineage? Simon also gains the nickname “Snowlock” because of his hair and well that sounds too similar to Jon’s surname.

At some point in the series, Simon falls into a coma state being between life and death. A little girl, Leleth, is showing him visions of the past, while princess Maegwin sacrifices herself transferring her energy to him so he can return to his body. For all we know, Jon is dead by end of ADWD but it’s obvious that Martin is far from over with his story. Could he possibly enter a state between life and death where someone (Bloodraven perhaps?) will reveal to him the truth of Robert’s Rebellion aka the secret of his birth? Also, Melisandre believes that she needs to sacrifice “two kings to wake the dragon” what if she does that believing that she will gain a stone dragon hidden within the Wall but instead she wakes the son of the dragon, aka Jon Snow?

It is interesting to mention here that Simon ends up the series as King of the Realm despite the fact that he was never among the candidates who fought for the Dragonbone Chair. He is the unlikely King. Likewise, gaining a throne couldn’t be further from Jon’s current mindset. However Jon, thanks to his Targaryen lineage and King Robb’s will, could end up becoming King of Westeros or King in the North. We are not saying that alternative endgames don’t exist for him, but him ending up as a King isn’t a far fetched theory, either. In case he does end up King, he could either rule alone or be a co-ruler together with his wife. After all, Simon - the character Jon’s was inspired from- was aided in his ruling duties by his wife Queen Miriamele.

[stupidgirl2003]

The Old Mausoleum and Princess Elisabeth.

In the Grand Ducal Hessian family, the name Elisabeth evokes melancholic feelings; as the lives of the beholders of this beautiful name, which means 'God-given', the princesses Elisabeth, later Grand Duchess Elizaveta Feodorovna (1864-1918) and Elisabeth, Elizaveta Feodorovna's niece (1895-1903), were princesses whose lives and destinies were intermingled with happiness, devotion, service, and sadness. Today, remembering the beholders of this name, we can remember another Hessian princess named Elisabeth who, like Grand Duke Ernst Ludwig's daughter, also died in childhood. Being so young when she passed away, information about her is scarce. She was the fourth child and first daughter of the Hereditary Princely couple of Darmstadt, Ludwig and Wilhelmine, but the fact is that Elisabeth's parents had been leading separated lives for a while and, the age gap with her older brothers, Princes Ludwig and Karl, was of more than a decade. Therefore, that her biological father was not the Hereditary Prince does not come as a surprise, being the most probable biological father August von Senarclens-Grancy, a Swiss noble in service to the court. He was also the possible biological father of her younger siblings, Alexander and Marie, but, like her, they were also recognized by Ludwig. Wilhelmine's pregnancy with Elisabeth is mentioned in a letter from her sister, Russian Empress Elizaveta Alexeievna to her mother, Amalie of Hesse-Darmstadt: '...I am very sorry for my poor aunt in Darmstadt [Luise, Grand Duchess of Hesse and by the Rhine, mother-in-law of Wilhelmine], whose eyes are in such a bad state. Is she happy with Mimi's [Wilhelmine's nickname] pregnancy ? Dear mother, I don't think I have been secretive with you, but when Mimi told me that I was the first person she had spoken to about her pregnancy, I thought it was not for me to be the first to speak of it, but for her in every way. I still don't know how far along she is, she hasn't told me, but I'm sure you do, dear mother...' . Three months after this letter was written, on the 20 of May of 1821, Amalie Elisabeth Luise Caroline Friederike was born. Although not directly mentioned, she was possibly named in honor of her maternal grandmother and maternal aunts and her official paternal grandmother. She, as a child, possibly spent the majority of her time with nannies that took care of her, and with her mother Wilhelmine. Elisabeth has been referred to as her mother's favorite daughter. Her mother, who loved to travel to Switzerland and had visited it several times before, decided to take all her children in a travel there, but what was to be a happy event, was marked by tragedy, as Elisabeth, in the outward journey, contracted scarlet fever and died on May 27, 1826, in Lausanne, a week after her fifth birthday.

Little Elisabeth was laid to rest first in the Darmstadt City Church for some time until 1831, when the mausoleum her mother had asked court architect Georg Moller to erect in the Rosehöhe, a most loved place for her, was finished. This mausoleum with time became an important burial place for the Hessian Grand Ducal family.

As for Wilhelmine, with the death of Elisabeth, her love for Switzerland, traveling, and life in general decayed. She said some years later 'the old wanderlust is no longer to be found in me'.

Wilhelmine died in 1836, and asked her husband, now Grand Duke Ludwig II, to have a simple funeral and to be laid to rest with her beloved Elisabeth.

Sources: L'impératrice Élisabeth, épouse d'Alexandre 1er by Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich, podcast 'Treffpunkt Heilingenberg' #3 'Eine Affäre in der Schweiz', Die Hessin auf dem Zarenthron: Maria, Kaiserin von Russland, http://www.park-rosenhoehe.info/Park_Geschichte.html and https://freunde-des-schlossmuseum-darmstadt.de/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/flyer_palais.pdf

Thanks to @abigaaal for her feedback on this!

[darlinggeorgiedear]

How come tsar Nicholas II, George VI etc have rabid fans, but George V doesn't?? Do you think if George V have died young, he would have been more appreciated, or even less appreciated than he already is?

Hi! I’d argue Nicholas has more haters than he does lovers. I don’t think his position is covetable.

Nicholas is more significant than George because he was the LAST Tsar. His rule was what gave way to the Soviet Union. It’s very tragic and significant. This doesn’t make George less, it’s really “apple and oranges” if anyone knows that saying.

George vi was the WWII king, which means there is a sizable population who were alive while he was king, that just started to die off, so he is more relevant and remembered in that way. He also has a really good Oscar winning film made about him.

I think George V is overall looked at as a good king, if you ignore the British tabloids who enjoy printing untrue rumors about the Royal family members for clicks.

George was very popular and beloved during his reign, he wouldn’t have changed a thing in my opinion. And is just as remembered and loved as his dad, Edward Vii, or any other popular male British king.

I wanted to add more of my thoughts, since I don't think I did a very good job explaining myself. I did create this blog because I thought George was under represented on Tumblr, and knew if many knew more about him, they would love him!

I do think George has bad press. Most tabloid articles or documentaries are painful to read or watch. My point is majority of prominent British royal family member have bad press (besides mostly the late Queen, Kate, and Diana (but Diana had bad press before she died) so it not really about George. The Queen Mother was very very popular, yet if you google her, it gets really ugly. She does have overly positive documentaries, but there are many unfair articles that paint her as almost demonic. George VI is spared from salacious gossip but I think it's because he really didn't have a drama bone in his body so any story about him would be boring, and sadly journalism today is about clicks and money.

I also agree with one of the comments saying how George did so many great thing but isn't remembered as such. It's a shame that many can't name George's accomplishments, but majority of the world remembers Queen Victoria as a widow, instead of her significant influence in the UK during the Victorian era, which was basically a second Tudor era. We just live in a world where people want silly stories.

I do know George and Nicholas are compared, but it is really SO unfair and silly. They had completely different positions. I think some people love Nicolas hard, because he is hated hard. There are people who think George was a bad father and had a temper, but with Nicholas, people blame him for much much worse. I've written this before but I think it is more interesting journalism today to write something nice about Nicholas since he had such a bad reputation. And with the same mindset, it is newsworthy to write something negative about George, since he was seen as a such a great king and family man.

Basically, anon, I just think you're too hard on George. He is very popular and loved. I do wish George could have a good movie, or even a good and fair documentary (no "royal experts" please.) There was a good documentary about George on YouTube a while ago that was amazing, but it vanished. I think it was a bbc documentary.

There really are so many mistruths about the British Royal Family that are stated by the media as facts. It’s actually really sad because these lies are usually concerning really low moments in the royal family’s lives. Almost like they thrive on the pain of others…

[221b-sociopath-street]

#ted lasso for dummies

01×01 Pilot

00:00:56 'But it's Hockney!'*

*David Hockney is one of the most influential British artists 🎨 of XX century. Known by his contribution to the pop art movement of the 60's.

As cliche as it is, the work of art that Rebecca and Higgins refers to is called 'Football Player'. And in real life it was sold for £22,500.

00:02:20 'Liam and Noel. Though, perhaps not an Oasis.'*

*It is impossible to imagine Britain and its culture without one of the biggest and most acclaimed bands of the 90's. Oasis is a quintessence of most hated and beloved band. Alcohol, drugs, canceled gigs, bad press, accusations of imitating the work of other musicians, rivalry between brothers and the boundless love of the fans - it's all about Oasis. So, maybe comparison made by Rebecca between George Cartrick's testicles and Liam/Noel Gallagher of Oasis is a pointer to beef (rivalry) history of latter.

00:04:04 'Jack Kerouac. The Dharma Bums'*

*The Dharma Bums is a 1958 novel by Beat Generation author Jack Kerouac. Description of mountain climbing, cycling, hitchhiking, poetry readings, jazz drunk parties is done through the prism of Buddhism. So maybe it makes sense: Ted and his philosophy of life and work?!

00:06:58 'Okay. That's Tower Bridge. Right. Not the London Bridge, because this one is still up'.

*For me as a foreigner it's a bit confusing?! Is it a reference to Operation London Bridge - the funeral plan for Queen Elizabeth II created in 60's, where the phrase 'London Bridge is down' is like signal of Queen's death to the PM and others, setting the plan into motion? Or is it like some touristy stuff?

00:08:39 'Y'all got Nathan's hot dogs 🌭 here?'*

* An American company that operates a chain of fast-food restaurant's  specializing in hot dogs. There are some restaurants in GB, but Nates lack of knowledge about them msybe suggests their unpopularity.

00:13:22 'Trent Crimm, The Independent.'*

* The Independent during 1986-2016 British print newspaper, nowadays - online newspaper. And it is owned by representative of the terrorist country and ex kgb agent 😵

00:18:57 'Wales. Is that another country?'*

*Yeap, Wales is a country (with it's own capital Cardiff) that is a part of another country - 🇬🇧 . Besides it UK consists of: England, Scotland and Northern Ireland.

00:19:03 'It's kinda like America these days.'*

*Perhaps Ted is equating the countries within the UK to states in America OR is taking about sovereign states and dependent territories in the Americas(such as Canada, Brazil, Cuba and other)?!

00:19:25 'And am I getting notes of Axe body spray?'*

*If you are a man and you forget your body spray while traveling from the USA to GB, remember: AXE=LYNX 🤣

00:20:07 'Last time I saw eyes that cold, they were going head-to-head with Roy Scheider. Jaws? No, All that jazz.'

* Jaws and All That Jazz are among seven Scheider movies that are considered classics. And it's all known fact that he was really great performer, who knew how to hold the audience's attention both in the role of a shark-hunting sheriff and in the role of theater director/choreographer who was alcoholic, a driven workaholic and a womanizer .

00:22:29 'Never thought it would end being coached by Ronald fucking McDonald'*

*Ronald McDonald is a mascot of the McDonald's fast-food restaurant chain. 

I remember my first time at McDonald's and that creepy as fuck statue of clown, thank fucking God he is not around anymore in UA restaurants.

00:24:48 'Well, I hope you never run into Biz Markie.'*

*We share your sentiment Ted. It is really bad. Biz Markie, was an American rapper and singer. Sometimes was referred to as the "Clown Prince of Hip Hop". Fellas, it is all we need to know.

Part 2