#i know when to stop beating the dead horse
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what do you do with the knowledge that you could drop a karkat thing and jumpscare and/or kill thousands of sleeping homestucks
that's not even true, like 90% of the people that knew me for homestuck stuff either unfollowed because they only associated me with homestuck and stopped liking it, or unfollowed me because i don't post homestuck anymore.
#i did the whole big return thing back in 2019#if you missed it you missed it#i know when to stop beating the dead horse
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okay but once AGAIN: the Bennet sisters are not actually a united front, nor do they share a close bond. It’s shocking how divided and splintered they are (symptom of the house they grew up in.)
#I never stop beating this dead horse I’m so sorry.#but it’s just like. yeah that’s sweet that Rosamund pike enjoyed playing a bunch of sisters she was close to.#but literally …… not …… canon ……. behavior.#Lizzy and Jane are friends. Kitty and Lydia are inseparable.#when Lydia separates herself Kitty gets sort of adopted#and Mary is unfortunately the odd duck out#and that’s just the way it is. (also I refuse to feel false sympathy for Mary.) (a sentimentality beyond my powers or desire)!#‘I want to hear more about Mary Bennet! what’s her story!’ is an insane take to me#Mary is a silly (and stubborn in her silliness) side character. maybe she grows up one day maybe she doesn’t#it isn’t my business nor the readers#I do think it’s funny and yes a little cruel how Mr. Bennet insists on including her in his list of silly daughters#it’s a failing on his part. as is his disdain/amusement at any of his daughters#but you know WHAT. he isn’t wrong#Mary wished to say something sensible but knew not how Bennet is not a tortured side character with a lonely soul.#she’s a 19 year old in a very foolish stage#she’s also vain!#like girl. literally no one wants your concertos here#sorry you have such unhelpful parents but like …
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the vampire diaries 8.16 // louise gluck, crossroads
“and damon, like the voiceover tell us, he was worried he would never see stefan again. it was just elena assuring him that there would be peace. that we’ve dealt with this other side of darkness for several seasons, but there’s also light out there and there’s peace, and damon will find it. if you search for it, you will find it. and we wanted to get that last moment to see that [...] damon found it too, and it looked just like his brother.” — kevin williamson
#not really satisfied with this one but eh#i don't envy gifmakers who've giffed the tunnel scene btw bc the lighting. my god. a travesty#anyway. beating this dead horse of an ep to death to eke out every last drop of defan it has to offer#the contrast between damon's expression when reuniting with elena vs stefan kills meeeee#he's doing THE most for stefan but for elena... go girl give us nothing dot jpeg fjskfjdj#also in typical spn brainrot fashion while listening to damon's anguished declaration of love toward stefan in the tunnel or whatever#i kept comparing it to dean's 7 minutes of incest ahh speech in the finale and. my god lol#like i'm aware pitting damon i-stole-my-little-brother's-gf-and-let-him-drown-while-locked-in-a-safe-for-three-months salvatore#against dean i-sold-my-soul-for-my-little-brother-and-i-will-do-it-again-without-hesitation winchester#is unfair to damon but damon's speech is SO bland and half-assed in and of itself#and it absolutely PALES in comparison to dean's speech it's actually pathetic lmfao#i couldn't stop thinking abt dean confessing that he stood outside sam's dorm for hours before barging in#bc he was scared sam would tell him to get lost#and it made me think that the writers could've made damon's speech that much more personal and impactful#by maybe throwing in a line like “i didn't come back to mystic falls all those years ago /just/ for katherine”#it would've recontextualized their reunion in the first ep and given the hello brother moment so much more depth#give us something authentic! something the audience isn't privy to!#something only damon would know and keep buried in the deepest darkest corner of his black heart!#like!!! i'm sorry but damon's dying (not really) declaration of love toward stefan reads so generic lol#just smacks of lack of creativity on the writers' part which. tbf. is like all of tvd post s3 lmao#maybe it's a me problem idk i just think the speech could've been. well. better (obviously i blame plec she gave kevin a whole lotta nothin#like once you sit down and start dissecting damon's words they don't feel /that/ weighted. if that makes any sense#ok so maybe i just wanted him to say he didn't come back to mystic falls just for kat ! sue me#ANYWAY. someone please for the love of god write me a post finale canon compliant defan fic#a defan-in-the-afterlife fic if you will#or a damon-being-miserable-after-stefan's-death-and-being-really-shit-at-coping fic. that works too#wowee these tags are a mess#defan#the vampire diaries#web weave
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I know everyone hates The Power of Positive Thinking on this webbed site bc it's so often used to dismiss serious structural or societal issues but tbh I wonder if it's a branding issue. Will enjoying the spring breeze or thinking about things you like about yourself fix your entire life? No, probably not.
But what do you think a commitment to negativity is doing for you? Do you really think it's helping? After a certain point, constantly and aggressively acknowledging the negativity serves no purpose, especially in your own mind. If you already know you're miserable, why does it require so much enforcing? Why not try something else and see what happens?
Why not let yourself enjoy what you can?
#I have worried a lot in my life that I'm not enjoying things enough as I did them and that must mean I was incapable of True Happiness#turns out it's easier to notice unhappiness etc bc I put a name to it#'I don't enjoy this. I hate this. I'm uncomfortable. I'm in pain'#never did that for positive things and now I try to#just saying 'this is nice' when things are nice makes that feeling surge#it's so easy to feel like negativity is more realistic but it isn't and I was obliterating my ability to enjoy things by not giving them th#same fanfare as I did when I was unhappy#turns out i gotta speak its name and it shall appear#and stop constantly thinking about everything wrong with me. turns out that makes you unhappy#I already know my issues no need to beat the dead horse. I'm working on them and that has to be enough#cassidy.txt#I have to write these things or I'll forget forever#but the past week has been really nice bc I let myself call it nice#anyways let's call it the skeleton blast of negativity that you should avoid. will that help.
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impulsive bathroom haircut goes awry 2 dead 15 injured
#my problem is i KNOW i look best when slightly disheveled. this is just how i am.#so i will always look kind of bad after a haircut#also its only half done but i am leaving the house anyway!!!!listen#listen i know when to stop beating a dead horse. not yet sure how to avoid killing it tho#i gave myself an acceptable fade twice at the cost of gaining too much confidence then flew close to the sun endded up looking. bad.
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when bo burnham said and how could love be wrong
#genuineley formative to me in 2013#its from repeat stuff the full stanza is#im in magazines full of model teens so far above you#so read them and hate yourself then pay me to tell you i love you#and your parents will always come along#cause their little girl is in love!#and hes being sarcastic to some extent but i think hes also mourning the fact the love has been so commercialized#not just romance#but the feeling of being wanted#im not saying thats the only reason people engage with romance as a genre in music tv movies books#but obviously theres a huge market for absolute bullshit Perfect Couples that focus on gender roles#and pander to the lowest common denominator and work to be relatable but fantastical to fill the very real need we all of of feeling known#and cared for#we know its not right. we know its not funny but well stop beating this dead horse when it stops spitting out money#god insane
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LMFAO what are these cable tv writers ON
#no disrespect intended#bc i know that writers are In The Trenches right now#but... HUH???#there's a show i watched in middle school that is somehow still on the air#<- i'm saying that bc i just don't understand why cable networks PUSH and PUSH for more seasons of a show until it burns out#instead of letting the show end organically and letting the plot points resolve within five or so seasons but No.#some of these shows have been going for over a decade!!! like what !!!#these actors are 👏tired👏#anyway! what i'm getting at is that when shows run for long after they were initially structured and intended to... things get weird#like the same chaotic plot points and character near-deaths happen every other season#i'm not trying to be mean i promise#i just. get frustrated w the larger networks and production companies behind cable TV shows that just... let them run into the ground#for the sake of profit#they rlly beat that dead horse until it stops coughing up money#anyway. have a good night y'all!!! i will b stewing in the disdain i have for media being increasingly monopolized and arts being extorted
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I know we beat the "seasons are only 10 episodes now and it sucks" dead horse on the daily but another thing we lost when we stopped making the 24 episode 1 hour drama was the freedom to be narratively risky.
Star Trek, The X Files, and Doctor Who are great examples of this since they had the sandbox of Sci-Fi to play with. There are so many amazing, mind bending, soul stretching episodes that were teetering on the edge of flop or flying and through bold writing they didn't just fly but catapulted into the stratosphere of iconic. These episodes changed expectations and genre boundaries of what Sci-Fi could be for years to come.
We don't get episodes like this anymore because these new shows cannot afford the risk of a flop. The weekly episodic story structure that was once the foundation of television has been abandoned by Hollywood. The beautiful thing about this "simplistic" structure is that it provides a narrative safety net. You can take a risk and afford the miss because you can have a clean slate next week. You can't do that with continual narrative structures where only one story is being told over ten episodes (note to add: both structures are valuable, but total abandonment of one in favor of the other is detrimental).
These production companies gleefully hold the metaphorical gun of cancellation to the writer's heads and this actively ensures that stories are as safe as possible. This is creatively devastating, and ironically, guarantees catastrophic failure of shows. Safety is a bland cage.
Of course, the production think-tanks can't possibly take responsibility for their suffocating creative control so they blame the audiences for *checks notes* being on their phones too much, not subscribing enough, paying too little for ads, being too vocal online, not being vocal enough, being too demanding, being too liberal, being too conservative, whatever it takes to say "these failures are not our fault, you're just bad audiences".
Now, there are the episodes that did flop, but they flopped so spectacularly that we have entire days celebrating them decades later. These episodes took massive risks and instead of trying to back away from that creative intensity, these writers-of-old stepped up to bat, acknowledged they probably didn't have the screen-time to truly flesh out these concepts but by God they were going to try, and then hit so hard they shattered the bat. Sure they lost the game, but wow, what a thing to witness.
When I invariably get asked what my least favorite episodes of Star Trek are, I can't even remember because a "bad" episode to me is one that's simply forgettable.
There is no greater crime in the realm of artistic creation than being aesthetically beige and mind numbingly forgettable and yet for the past 15 years 8 out of 10 productions seem to be repeat offenders of exactly this.
#star trek tos#star trek the next generation#star trek ds9#doctor who#txf#television#analysis#just some thoughts
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𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [e.williams]
pairing ellie williams x fem!reader (exes to lovers)
synopsis when you father hires your ex to be his farmhand, you're left with less and less self control as the days pass, always keeping an eye on the aurburn-haired girl that had stolen your heart years ago
warnings kinda shitty pacing bc i was rushing to get this out, ooc!ellie (maybe idk), not edited very well, heavy kissing, mentions of alcohol
wc 2.7k
note i've had this in the works for over a year now and was originally supposed to publish this on my old blog but oh well...anyway alexa play 'save a horse (ride a cowboy)' by big & rich
the weather was unforgiving.
scorching sun rays beat down on the farm, baking the golden dead grass and drying out the small creek on the outskirts of the perimeter. it was rather unusual for a jackson summer. and it did nothing but inflate your attraction toward the woman who currently hauled large hay bales into the barn.
dressed in a pair of low-rise jorts, her typical high-top converse, and a cream wife-beater, ellie wiped sweat from her forehead with a scowl, face twisted in the bright light. the rise of her arm lifted her shirt, exposing a sliver of the toned abdomen she hid most days. as she caught your eye, spotting you peeking at her from behind the book you were trying to busy yourself with, she sent a cheeky smile, enjoying the way you scurried to cover your face with the novel.
you preoccupied yourself on the back porch, trying and failing to focus on the words that swam on the page of your book. the wicket lounge chair was stiff and the towel under you itched your back, rubbing against the skin that wasn’t covered by the skimpy bikini you had chosen to wear in favor of the hot weather. yet it wasn’t the weather that made you flush and squirm restlessly, your focus settled elsewhere.
“what’re you readin’?”
brows shooting to your hairline, you glanced up at ellie, who had approached without you realizing.
she licked her chapped lips in anticipation, silhouette blocking out the sun.
shaking your head, you sat up straight. “nothing good, to be honest,” you said, avoiding her heavy gaze by flipping the novel over and pretending to look over the back.
she nodded, peeling off the carhartt gloves she wore. reaching for the iced lemonade on the small table next to you, she said before drinking, “so then it’s not one of the smutty books that you enjoy. got it.”
you coughed at her words, choking on your own saliva with widened eyes. perhaps i misheard her, you thought immediately, swallowing down more sputters and croaking out a rough, “what?”
ellie peered at you with a look of amusement. she was certain she had been clear, but that didn’t stop her from repeating her point. “the books you like to read. they’re all just smut. is this one not?”
heart thumping against your ribcage, you gulped. “no.”
even to you it sounded like a shitty lie.
“‘no’…?” she drawled, eyebrows raising with skepticism.
“they’re not all smut, ellie,” you told her defensively, face scrunching as you stiffened on the chair.
the woman in front of you looked mildly unconvinced, but she shrugged regardless. “whatever you say, babe.”
growing uninterested in the novel you were reading thanks to ellie, you set it on the small table beside the chair and watched the woman as she chugged the rest of her drink. “don’t you think it’s a little…inappropriate to call me that?”
ellie set down her glass, fisting her gloves in a hand before crossing her arms above her chest. for a split second you could see a glimpse of the woman you used to call your girlfriend. that is until she fucked you over and confessed that she thought she had feelings to dina. now look at her—single and working as a farmhand on your father’s farm. call it karma or fate, you didn’t know, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like her reappearance in your life.
“no,” she started, her eyes gleaming with defiance, “i don’t think it’s inappropriate. i call everyone that.”
there was no hiding the clear confusion on your face as you sat up and said, “no, you definitely don’t. pet names were never really your thing, els.”
“well, maybe i’ve changed. we haven’t seen each other in awhile, you know. a lot can happen.” her words sounded indolent, showing no effort to be convincing.
scoffing, you rolled your eyes and swung your legs over the edge of the chair. “whatever. i’m going inside, it’s too hot out here.”
“you going to the party tonight?” ellie asked abruptly, her indifferent facade shedding like old skin. “the one being held in the dancehall?”
you gripped the edge of the furniture, angling your head to look up at her. she wants me to go, you realized quickly. that desperate expression of hers made it quite obvious. “of course i’m going.”
it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth. you hadn’t intended on going until she said something.
at your response, she nodded, beginning to put her gloves back on. “i guess i’ll see you there then.”
“i suppose so.”
she arrived at your door at 7 p.m. sharp.
and, hell, she looked sharp.
the way her brown button up-flannel molded perfectly with her lean figure, faded jeans accentuating the acute curve of her hips, the stressed ends brushing against the dark brown of her cowboy boots. you were practically drooling at her exposed forearms, long sleeves rolled to her elbows. and, of course, the cherry on top had to be the black cowboy hat decorating the crown of her head, shading her face from the sinking sun behind her.
you mentally cursed your father for hiring ellie williams.
“what’re you doing here?” you asked keenly, adjusting your stance in the doorway.
she looked at you as if you had said something in another language, trying (and failing) to not look down at the small top and pajama shorts you wore . “i’m here to pick you up. figured you wouldn’t want to go to the party alone.”
you stared at her for a moment. she was right, of course. parties had never really been your idea of fun. the only time you ever went was when one of your friends could talk you into going. “come in, then. i need to finish getting dressed; shouldn’t take too long.”
ellie stepped inside cautiously, gingerly removing her hat and placing it on a nearby hook, like she was waiting for you to change your mind about the whole thing. but you didn’t, only shutting the door behind her and gesturing for her to follow you up the steps and into your bedroom. somewhere she had been oh-so-many times before the breakup.
the arid air was filled with tension, so thick that a knife would have to roughly saw its way through just to slice it.
you played off your uncomfort by sitting at your vanity calmly (definitely not forgetting that ellie had built this piece of furniture for you as a present for a past birthday), and grabbed the already-open tinted lip balm. the tin was cool in your palm as you dipped your finger in and then applied the sweet salve to your puckered mouth.
ellie watched from afar, unsure of where she should be as she waited, not wanting to break a boundary. if there even were boundaries to be broken.
she watched you diligently, eyes never leaving your mouth. she couldn’t help but gulp when you turned to her expectantly, asking her, “do i look fine?”
“you look as party-ready as you’ll ever be.” what she really wanted to say was, you look better than ‘fine.’ you always have, though she held her tongue reluctantly.
you gave her a curt nod, somewhat disappointed by her dry-ass remark. whatever. you’d mess with her later, after you’ve had a few drinks perhaps.
so, dropping the lip product into a drawer, you stood, pushing the stool back under the vanity before walking over to your wardrobe. the faded red wood had once gleamed when golden hour would come around, but with time its shine had dulled and the cabinet doors squeaked.
with a heavy breath, you sighed and pulled the round handles, exposing a plethora of clothes. as your eyes scanned your dresses, an idea sparked in your mind. you looked over your shoulder, finding ellie’s neutral gaze. “come pick out something for me to wear.”
her eyebrows flickered upward, slightly startled by your request. “but wouldn’t that be-”
“be what?” you interrupted, feigning a confused expression. “i’m just asking you to pick out a dress for me.”
the corners of ellie’s mouth turned south, and you ignored her when she muttered, “you didn’t ask, you demanded.”
you stepped out of her way, giving her the space to go through her options. however you didn’t miss the way she licked her lips, once again glancing at your pajama-clad figure before turning her attention to the open wardrobe.
the room was quiet, energy shifting ever so slightly from awkward to familiar. tension changing into something a little more…enticing as you waited for her decision regarding your outfit.
there was no hiding your smile when she pulled out a plain black mini dress with thin spaghetti straps, its neckline low. ellie had fucked you in that dress way too many times to count; it aroused something low in your stomach.
“good choice,” you teased, grabbing the article of clothing from her.
her expression heeded no hint as to what she was feeling, but with many years spent by her side, you had some idea of her internal gay panic. she could only hide it so well around the people who knew her best.
you placed the dress on your bed before dropping your pajama shorts to the floor, provoking a sharp inhale from the auburn-haired woman behind you.
“what the hell?!” ellie immediately seethed, her eyes averting your body as she spun to face your wardrobe.
you scoffed before ridding yourself of your shirt as well, suddenly feeling even more pleased with yourself for not wearing a bralette. “oh please, you’ve seen my body too many times to count.” rolling your eyes, you grabbed the dress and slipped it on, thankful for the absent zipper that was often prominent in similar pieces.
ellie eventually gave in and turned around, vaguely relieved to see that you now had something covering your body. she was unsure of what she would have done had you stayed undressed for an extended amount of time, her hands itching to run their familiar course on your bare figure.
“are you done staring?” you asked her ardently, adjusting the fabric of the dress as you narrowed your gaze at her.
“yes.” her answer was clipped, yet you didn’t say anything further. she was determined to avoid your jarring gaze.
you raised your chin slightly, observing her for a split second. her hands fisted and flexed by her sides, although she was definitely trying to hide it. she was dying for makeup sex just as you were. however there was no way you were going to let her know that, at least not right now. you wanted to manage to get out of the house first: wanted to see if her nerves would die out and be replaced with the cockiness she sported like armor.
“let’s go then,” you finally said, “don’t want to keep people waiting.”
ellie nodded curtly, making no fuss as she followed you out of the room and down the flight of stairs, her boots clacking with each step.
when you reached the bottom, you reached for your own set of boots by the door, their cream color worn with each wear. you pulled them on as ellie grabbed her hat, opened the door for you, and dramatically held her arm out.
unable to hide an amused grin, you linked your elbow with hers, letting her guide you out of the house and to shimmer, who grazed on a plot of grass by the front porch. as ellie untied the reins and pulled herself up, you watched the way her body moved fluidly and adjusted her person on the western-style saddle.
she offered her hand, lips pulling into a charming smile. “come on, sweet girl.”
trying to suppress your grin, you grabbed her hand and placed your foot in a stirrup, a little too eager for the feel of ellie’s strong back against your front.
“just sit and look pretty, i’ll be right back.”
ellie had left to go grab drinks from the bar almost the second the two of you had entered the dancehall. and you were thankful, unsure that you’d be able to keep up your teasing facade without a little bit of something in your system.
when you spotted her, two red cups in hand, you exhaled heavily, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking your drink. you didn’t waste any time before downing the brown liquid that burned all the way down your throat.
“hey, take it easy, baby,” ellie remarked, concern etching her features. she eased the cup from your hands, her eyebrows furrowed with faint worry. “there’s plenty of time to get drunk; no need to rush.”
as you swallowed the last bit of booze-flavored saliva on your tongue, you shifted ineptly. there went your attempt to spur your courage. great.
“ellie,” you said cautiously, eyes glued to the cluster of bodies on the dance floor and trying to ignore the way your breath was growing uneven. you toyed with the locket around your neck, mustering what bravery you had hidden.
“yes?”
“i think coming here, together, was a bad idea.”
your words had struck something in the woman next to you, and you watched from your peripheral as she tried to understand your statement. ellie looked wounded. a simple ‘why?’ was all she could manage to convene, the cups in her hands crinkling ever so slightly.
gaze finally sliding to meet hers, you said, “because all i’ve wanted to do since you showed up at my doorstep was kiss you.”
there was no telling where you had gotten the balls to say something so blunt, but boy did it feel good. you had missed ellie a lot, and you somehow managed to miss her even more the day your father had hired her as his farmhand. maybe it was because, while she had appeared in your life once more (after nearly a year of her staying in jackson), she wasn’t in your life; you were lucky if a conversation flowed between your awkward persons, still trying to make out what you were to one another.
“fuck,” ellie drawled, turning her back to the crowd. she shoved the drinks onto a nearby table, her stature tense. “you can’t just say things like that.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, moving closer to her. “why not?” your voice was unintentionally low.
ellie’s eyes, blazing like green fire, found yours. she turned to face you, hot breath mingling with yours as you exhaled in anticipation of her words.
“because it makes me want to do more than just kiss you.”
without thinking, you grabbed the front two belt loops of her jeans, not wasting a moment to second guess anything, and pulled her front against yours, lips instantly crashing with hers. as you fervently kissed ellie, her hands settling on your love handles, you hummed in satisfaction. this is exactly what you wanted—and you had wanted it from the moment she started working on your family’s farm.
ellie’s mouth moved against yours, just as desperate as you felt. when she pulled away, her breath heavy, she muttered, “let’s take this somewhere else.”
you nodded, dazedly staring at her lips before she grabbed your hand and turned, leading you both through the maze of people. your thoughts were muddled in your mind, too entranced by the situation to notice that she had led you, hurriedly at that, to the bathroom. she pushed open the door, ushering you inside, with a hand on the curve of your spine.
before you could even utter a word, some chippy remark you’d already forgotten, ellie was on you.
“was this your plan all along?” she asked, her breath fanning over the skin of your jawline, body caging you against the counter of the sink. “to mess with me until i snapped and gave in?”
swallowing thickly, consumed by the feeling of ellie’s hands and mouth, you let out a strained whine. your fingers found the strands of hair at her nape, tugging as if to answer her question. yes, obviously.
a guttural sound left her throat at your wordless response, her fingers trailing down, searching for the place she knew you wanted her most. but just as she dipped her hand under the hem of your panties, your skin hot under her touch, she leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
“you’re going to have to earn whatever it is you want.”
© navluvr 2024 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!
#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#the last of us part 2#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou x reader#ellie williams x f!reader#i am never going to get over her i fear#ellie williams my beloved
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Mother Knows No Bounds
prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader -> technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.7k+
note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote
warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?
please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.
you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!
The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.
Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.
The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.
The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.
It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.
For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.
Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.
You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.
21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.
Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.
However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.
The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.
The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.
Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.
Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.
Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.
Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.
You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.
"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."
"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.
"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"
"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.
He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"I've asked you why."
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.
"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."
Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."
"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."
Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."
"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.
"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.
"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.
"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."
You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."
You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.
When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"
"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."
"Mother, it's too hot for - "
"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.
"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."
"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "
"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."
Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."
So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.
Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.
You were all of the above and then some!
The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.
Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.
Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.
Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.
This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."
"What 'bout the li'l one?"
"Pardon?" Otto blinked.
"The Queen's last son?"
"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.
Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...
"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."
"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.
"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."
"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.
"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."
Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.
The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.
"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."
"We're almost done - "
"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."
You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.
The hall was too hot.
Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.
Overwhelmingly hot.
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!
Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!
So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!
However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.
"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"
But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.
"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"
"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.
"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"
"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.
"What happened?" Otto demanded.
"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."
"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."
"You saw the Grand Maester?"
"We did."
"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.
"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.
When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.
When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"
"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"
"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.
"Mother didn't demand you stay?"
"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."
"He was?"
"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.
When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.
The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.
He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.
You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.
Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.
"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."
"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.
"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."
Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."
With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."
"I-It was a girl?"
"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."
"But my body - "
"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."
"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"
Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."
"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."
"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."
When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."
"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"
"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"
"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"
"How was I to know - "
"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"
"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."
"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."
"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"
"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.
"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."
It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.
Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."
Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."
"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."
"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."
"Just lay with me," you requested.
He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."
"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"
"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."
Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."
"I do not deserve a woman like you."
"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"
His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."
A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.
You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.
You didn't move, staring into the flames.
Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.
King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.
For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.
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"Wait, wait, stop," Buck says, and the very pleasant feeling of Tommy's mouth on his neck vanishes.
"You okay?" Tommy's got his Look of Concern plastered on his face. Good thing, because if Buck is right, this is concerning.
"Yeah, it's just - did you hear that?"
Tommy raises his eyebrows. "I heard you moaning."
"Tommy, that's the thing - it wasn't me." The Look of Concern has morphed into the Look of Are-You-Sure-You're-Not-Having-Me-On? It's mostly used whenever Buck regales Tommy with tales of one of the 118's emergencies ("Nothing like that ever happened while I was there, Evan"), but he's seen it in other contexts (explaining the entire Kim situation).
"At this point, I think I know what you sound like in bed." Tommy's mouth is still nicely red. And maybe he's right, it was nothing, and it would be easy to fall back into him. Buck waits a beat, ears perked, but there's nothing - so he does press his lips into Tommy's, Tommy's body relaxing against him.
Tommy rubs his side like Buck's an anxious horse. The hair on Buck's arms slowly flattens, goosebumps leaving his skin. He loses himself in the slide of their kisses, until -
He breaks free of Tommy and looks around wildly, Tommy woah'ing.
"Sweetheart," Tommy says, reaching out again. "Seriously, you okay? Because you're giving Ghost Whisperer."
Buck snaps his fingers at Tommy. "Exactly. My apartment is haunted."
"Evan." The word is a drier desert than Antarctica.
"There was a moan again! And it wasn't me. And when Chimney and Mara and Jee were over here helping set up, they left the balcony door open. It's October. And now there is something living here."
"Last time I checked, Casper wasn't considered alive," Tommy says, and the look on his face tells Buck everything: he really is a skeptic. Falling asleep during Buck's thoughts on Area 51 wasn't just because he found Buck's voice soothing.
When Buck reaches for his phone on the bedside table, a chill runs down his arm and into his spine. "Okay." He's got Google, a helpful army of friends, and the ability to buy anything he needs. That ghost is history. "So first, we need to get -"
He's stopped by Tommy's hand on his wrist. "Baby, do we really need to figure out your ghost thing right now?"
"Do you want to fuck in front of a ghost, Thomas?"
"Is he a hot ghost?" Tommy waggles his eyebrows, then sighs. "Look, I get that this is important to you, but I was away for three weeks for that training camp and I missed you. Can we send The Flying Dutchman back to sea in a couple days? My place has a big bed and a distinct lack of the supernatural."
As they're closing the door to Buck's loft, another faint moan emanates from the air.
"It's the pipes," Tommy says, linking his arm into Buck's to guide them to his car.
(They find out three days later Tommy is technically correct when maintenance pulls a dead raccoon out of the walls of Buck's loft.
"Huh," Tommy says, frowning at his phone. "They really do make that noise."
"And they stink." Buck wrinkles his nose. "Your bed still open?"
By the time the landlord's finished the repairs, Buck's stuff, cleared out for the construction, is scattered over Tommy's house.
"It'd be a pain to pack it all up again," Tommy says. "Keep it here."
"You just want easy access to my hoodies," Buck accuses, feeling Tommy's laughter from underneath the fabric of the stolen blue hoodie he's wearing.
Two hours later, hoodie abandoned to the floor, Buck officially moves in.)
[thanks to @stardustbuck (Buck thinks he's haunted) and @theweewooshow (balcony raccoon) for the inspo 🫶]
#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 abc#my fic#smoke.txt#a week later Buck remembers Tommy's skepticism and Tommy endures hearing about why Ghosts are Real#and that Buck bets he doesn't even believe in the q word curse#Tommy shrugs says not really and then it's off to the races again#he and Eddie go out for drinks and toast to the first meeting of the skeptics club
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girl help i underwent a narrative arc about how our time together is precious because it is limited and immortality's not all it's cracked up to be but my author doesn't know when to stop beating a dead horse so it was all for nothing and i'm trapped as a teenager forever, forced to complete quests and watch my friends die around me as i'm made to save the world again and again and again
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Wizard101 Pov: you're scrolling on spiralblr some point around arc 2
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👀 lail-brighteyes Follow
I'm never going on a field trip again THEY PUT ME IN A FUCKIBG ZOO
🌈 gayrizzleheim Follow
A field trip to a zoo doesn't seem too bad??
👀 lail-brighteyes Follow
No you misheard me. I'm not at the zoo, I'm in the zoo. As in, I'm in one of the cages and people are taking pictures of me.
35 notes
🏡 chillin-like-a-titon Follow
Can there stop being attacks on the spiral for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES????
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✅️ wiz-polls-daily Follow
8,341 notes
🪦 is-malistaire-dead-yet Follow
YES.
🪦 is-malistaire-dead-yet Follow
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
33.2k notes
🌋 spawnofhellhound Follow
Idk if I'm just dumb but I truly don't understand colonization in the spiral. Like you travel through time and space and through the stars and find an entirely different world doing just fine and you say, "that's mine now" ???????
🕶 beyondbonetts-deactivated
spiralblr simplifying and overexageratting other worlds' problems. why am I not surprised.
🐠 luckyhooker Follow
🕶 beyondbonetts-deactivated
NOT WHAT WE'RE CALLED
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⚰️ wolf-deathsinger Follow
stopped by the back of ravenwood for the first time in a while and malorn ashthorn was there still lmao I guess it makes sense for the younger students to be taught there so they don't have to go all the way to nightside but what a flashback
☠️ malice-and-ash Follow
If you think I'm mentally prepared to take on the real world after Ravenswood you got another thing coming. I'm guarding that pit til I die.
⚰️ wolf-deathsinger Follow
ok first of all didnt know you have spiralblr hi second of all does....does ambrose know you're still squatting there teaching the younger students?
☠️ malice-and-ash Follow
Titan knows. I don't think that man leaves his office. I get a sack of gold each month but I think gamma is in charge of finance.
🧙♂️ wizardstrong456 Follow
The owl? That's why my student loans got fucked up 🤦♂️
🪸 coral-oceanswimmer Follow
ew, what is a specieist doing here
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🕶 beyondbonetts-deactivated
I am sick and tired of all you pretend activists calling me marleyboner. It's literally a slur. Idc if you think it's funny to shit on worlds you deem ~problematic~ but disrespecting an entire world's name like that is unacceptable.
🪩 spiral-gayte Follow
this you?
👑 amul3twh0re Follow
i love posts where you can see exactly why the op is deactivated
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🦀 underdaseamen Follow
listen i have nothing against wizards visiting celestia but if you do can you please use a mount that makes sense for the area. yall have no idea how terrifying it is when you leave your house with your crab friends and a fucking horse starts swimming toward you.
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🐷 randolf-spellshine Follow
about to go fight this wizard in the spiral cup ill post the video later
🐷 randolf-spellshine Follow
i got my ass beat bruh im not posting that shit
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🦡 baddestbadger-inavalon Follow
4,371 notes
🦋 ladyorielfan23 Follow
Why we should have expected the y**ng w*z*rd destroying Azteca (part 1)
yw crit under the cut
i have to put something here but i do not have the energy to write an entire essay from ladyorielfan23's perspective so imagine a super angry rant here about how problematic the young wizard is omg why would you say that ladyorielfan23 also my apologies for fucking up the lore in the last dashboard simulator i have no idea what this game's plot is
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Be With Me
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Robb Stark x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ When Robb over hears of your potential marriage, he cannot stand the idea of loosing you to some random lord.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Be with Me” by Ramin Djawadi. It was heavily inspired by the cave scene with Jon and Yigrette. P.S… IM BACK!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, sexual content, swearing, injuries, mentions of death, oral (male receiving), discussion of marriage…
(I’m saying it again! This was heavily inspired by the cave scene that involved Jon and Yigrette!!)
You walk out of the medic tent with a limp, It’s more than obvious that you were injured, and you feel the stares from other soldiers as your eyes are narrowed.
Robb caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around, “What was that?” Robb immediately said, “You thought it best to throw yourself into a fight?”
“A sword was coming from behind, you were too bothered to even notice.” You shake his hand off your shoulder and continue walking.
Robb grumbles a couple of words before speeding up to catch you, “I saved your life.” He piped up.
“No, I did.” You corrected him, you kept your eyes forward as you walked to your tent, “If I didn’t throw myself into the battle… You know I’d die for you.”
It makes Robb scoff rather loudly, ignoring your last words, “Let’s say you saved me. What about the other time or the other one?” Robb lifts an eyebrow, “You still owe me two more.”
“I owe you quite a lot, my lord.” You tell him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the horses.”
He grabs your cloak tightly and pulls you back, nearly making you fall to the ground. You look up at him confused and angry.
He suddenly snatches your sword out of your scabbard, “I’ll take your sword as payment.” He then scurries away, you can hear him laughing.
“W-What?” You stand shocked for a moment before realizing what is happening, “Robb! Come back here, dammit!” You shout, chasing after him, “Robb fucking Stark! Give me my sword!”
You run after him, tumbling on a few rocks but don’t fall… Somehow. As much as you’re a fighter, Robb was a runner.
He ran so easily and didn’t take a second to look back and stop to give you some kind of better start.
“If you want it back, you’ll have to steal it back!” He runs from the camp and into a random cave. A random cave to you. You didn’t know the North like he did.
The cave is heated by a natural hot spring, which forms a waterfall and a pool. The rocks glistening from the humidity from the water and the light shining through.
Robb sets his sword against the rocks and begins to undo his armor. He starts with his gloves, crumbling them up and tossing them besides the sword.
Your peer your head into the cave, you rush into the cave when hear him, “Seven fucking hells, Robb-!” You loudly shout, but stop in your tracks.
“I heard from my mother that you were supposed to marry some random Lord.” He spoke with a hint of venom in his voice, he pulls off his brown leather boots, “Which means you’re a maiden.”
You choke on your words as you feel your face become warm at his bluntness.
He unties and unbuttons his armor, setting it down carefully, “I always wanted to beat the lord dead, just imagining you in his grasp made me feel so angry.”
Robb turns his back to your as his arms cross and grab the hem of his dirty shirt, he’s swift and impatient, tearing free from the constraints of fighting and riding.
His hands come to the strings of his breeches, “I wanted to be the one to marry you… To kiss you…” Until his breeches drop to the ground. He steps out of them, “To love you…”
Robb turns back to you, he is completely bare in front of you. You could see light bruises and scrapes on his body but little scars. They were faded but still there, it added to his muscular body. He was so beautiful… So perfect… So flawless…
Your eyes flicker around the cave and your eyes only set sights on him once. They move to the ground and you hear his soft steps against the wet stone.
He slowly closes the space in between you both until his face his near yours.
You feel Robb’s breath, one of his hands comes to your cheeks and cups it. But when he leans into you for a kiss, you pull back.
You swallow thickly and turn your head, “We shouldn’t, Robb.” You mumble under your breath, “We can’t be doing this.”
“Then look me in the eyes and say it. Tell me that you don’t want to go any further.” He says, and he slowly turns his head to eventually look at him, “Go on, tell me.”
You knew what was waiting for you back at home, you knew that the second you stepped foot back into your home, your life would be over, even more if your parents found out.
“Do you want to marry that lord?” Robb whispers in your ear, “Do you want a marry a man with selfish desires?” You could hear the pain in his voice, “Because my heart would not stand the idea of it… My heart is yours, it has been from the start, ever since your mother met mine, ever since you watched me train that day. Do you feel as I do?”
“I do.” You shakily answer him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close and then you feel his lips on yours.
As your eyes shut and kiss him, you can feel yourself crying. You don’t know but he sees it, he does his best to keep you distracted and focused on him.
But you seem to have other ideas…
Once you manage to calm down and enjoy the kiss for a few more minutes, taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath before returning… Your hands move down his body and you slowly begin to kneel, planting kisses down his chest.
Robb chuckles, “Come back up, I wanna-” A sudden moan leaves his mouth when he feels your mouth wrap around his hard cock.
He throws his head back and allows himself to moan loudly. He was confined in the cave, just with you and no one else to see or hear. He closes his eyes and his hand comes to your head to move faster.
“F-Fuck!” His voice cracks as he curses, “H-How are you so-” He grunts and hisses, watching you close as you get him off.
Moments later, Robb is lying on the warm stone ground with you by his side… His fingers graze over your skin as he listens to the water pouring, feeling the warmth coming from the hot spring beside them.
Robb looks down at you with a grin, “How did you know to do that?” He questions you with an eyebrow raised.
You shrug, “I didn't learn it from anyone, I just wanted to. You looked like you enjoyed it.” You drag your nails over his chest.
“Surely there must’ve been a man you practice with.” Robb sits up, he’s genuinely curious but still playful, “Was it Theon? Or Jon?”
You swat at his leg and he snickers in response, “I swear, Robb. There wasn’t any other man.”
“So you are a maiden or were.” Robb stands and grabs your hand to help you up, “Join me, would you?” You didn’t need to say anything, he could see the answer in your eyes.
He leads you into the hot spring, feeling the warm water make contact with your skin. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest.
“They may be looking for us.” You tell him, unsure what to do now as you are held in his arms.
“I know.” Robb huffs as he rubs your back, “But let’s stay for a little longer…. I don’t wish to leave.” He holds you even tighter and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I do not wish to lose you once this is all over.”
“I… I’m sure I can convince my parents somehow. My mother could easily be swayed, but my father-”
“I’ll deal with him.” Robb interrupts you, “I’ll talk to my mother about it. There’s no way I cannot lose you to that man.”
Robb then moves to cup your face, swiping his thumb over his cheek, “Let’s not leave for a little longer.” He pulls you into another kiss, adjusting you comfortably on his lap.
You shudder and shiver, feeling his cock enter once more, “Don’t let me go.” You say to him, your hands hold grab his shoulders, keeping yourself up.
Once he was sheathed inside of you, Robb finally answers, “There’s no way I’ll let you go. Even if they try to pry my dead body off you, I’ll never let you go.”
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#game of thrones#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones smut#Jon son#theon greyjoy#robb stark smut#robb x reader
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In the Bleak Midwinter
SYNOPSIS: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, abuse, canon-typical themes, death, war, MDNI, mature themes) AN: Don’t look at the comments / reblogs if you don’t want spoilers!! But please discuss what you think once you’re done reading 🤍
Toy Horses Outside the Brothel | Tommy Shelby x Reader | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation
“So fucking close…” he whispers to himself, inhaling. He turns around and looks up, maybe he could conjure you right now. One last time before he died. “Oh and there’s a woman…a woman who I love and I got close. Nearly got fucking everything!” he shouts. “Oh, what the fuck. Get it done, boys,” he tells them. He kneels before the man.
“In the bleak midwinter…” Tommy says to himself, voice raspy and tired. “In the bleak midwinter…” he whispers to himself, his body shaking. He didn’t know where he was. He just knew that he was going to get killed today. The hole on the ground is where he’ll be buried and he never got the chance to be with you. “In the bleak…in—“
He couldn’t die today. Dread fills his body. You were still at the tracks with Simon. This wasn’t a part of the plan. He was supposed to kill Simon. He was supposed to have fun while doing it while you sat, unaware with Alfie Solomons in the private room. Sweat trickles on his face, and he closes his eyes. The blood on his forehead had dried up and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He couldn’t believe that the last thing he ever did on this fucking ground was smoke a cigarette. So close. So close…so fucking close.
The sound of a gun going off echoes in the vast field and he finds himself inside the hole. He stays there, appalled.
“Get out of the grave, tinker! Be on your fucking way!”
He stumbles out, unbalanced. Shock was still inside his body. He trips and lands on his face, his palms on the wet ground and he screams. So fucking close. He shakes his head, standing up and sobbing as he did so, on the way home…on the way to you.
He pours himself a glass of Irish whisky. He’s got some ideas for the future of the company…and also, he’s planning on getting something.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron…
BIRMINGHAM, 1922
Tommy couldn’t believe his fucking luck. How many times does he have to wait for things to finally fucking settle? How many more years should he wait for you? He didn’t mind—how could he ever mind when it came to you?
He couldn’t forget the relief that washed over him when Alfie called him to say that the job’s been done. He was supposed to get the locket in his office and go to the tracks but Alfie stopped him.
“Y/N killed Simon Coventry,” Alfie said. “Shot him dead like…mush, bone, mush. Saw her checking for his heartbeat after. I told her not to cry over spilled milk,” he snickers. “Do you get it, mate? Spilled milk?”
He tells Tommy about how shaken you were after the police investigation…how you kept it to yourself until the last officer went out. You were wailing and stuttering ‘he’s dead’ over and over. Alfie told him that he will get one of his men to send the gun to his office for safekeeping. Tommy knew that he should give you some time but he couldn’t wait anymore. He knew that you sold your London mansion and lived in Birmingham now. He knew that you bought the mansion with the garden; the one where you both used to frequent in as kids. He knew that all because he had some of the Blinders guard the property from afar. He knew that all because he passed by the house to get a glimpse of you but the house was quiet, eerie, and lacked life. Polly nor Ada couldn’t get in yet. It all happened too much…too fast…in a span of years, to have Simon dead at the sound of a gun was shocking.
It’s been a year and he couldn’t believe he waited that long to come visit you when he knows you the most. He shakes with anticipation everyday. He was looking forward to seeing you last year, to finally telling you all about his love for you. Maybe it was him who needed you more because you made your own world without him, but he couldn’t give a fuck anymore. You’ve both been apart for what felt like decades and he will burn the world if he’s apart from you for a day more.
It was raining and he drove to your house in his black car. The mansion with a garden. How foolish you both were when you dreamed those dreams. Life was never that easy. Blood was shed, lives were taken for his ambition. It didn’t matter right now. Not in this second. The rain just gets stronger. He forgot his umbrella but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered right now. He could see your figure from the back of the house looking through the French windows of your new home. Funny, you both got what you wanted. He got the Arrow House and you had this manor but they were both so fucking lifeless. He imagined a different house. He imagined a house with kids, with you during the war. He was looking at you and frowned when he saw you leave. Should he knock at the door? Should he just go back? Did you even want to see him?
Drops of rain wet his coat and he removed his Peaky hat, tossing it away to fix his hair. He should’ve gotten an umbrella. His shoes slosh with every step and the chill eats away his bones but he will be warm soon.
Thunder wakes the Birmingham sky and he sees you…a few metres away from him in your dress.
“Tommy!” you called, an umbrella in your hand. You rushed towards him to give him shelter from the rain. The mud from the grass made your bare feet wet but you didn’t care. Tommy was here…he was finally here. He meets you halfway, underneath your black umbrella. He smiles, chest against yours.
“We can’t fit,” he chuckled, a glimmer of the youth that you used to see in his eyes appearing. “Y/N,”
“Tommy,” you replied, a bashful smile on your face. “Let’s go inside,” you tell him but he holds your arm to keep you from leaving. “Tom?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand coming up to touch your face but he wasn’t sure. Was it alright to touch you now? “I—I,” he tries to think of words to say, every single emotion getting trapped in his throat. He coughs, shaking his head. “I miss you,”
A single tear trails down your cheek and you wipe it away.
“Looks like the world is finally quiet,” you replied, smiling at him. “I’ve missed you too, Tom,” you chuckled, laying your head on his chest. “I’ve missed you so, so, so much,”
He nods, wrapping his arms around you. You look at him again, a small smile on your face.
“Did you know that…that—“ he coughs. Fuck.
“Tommy?”
“I’ve always thought of ways to tell you this back in the war and I just—I guess the delays and everything and fuck, love. I’ve loved you since we played with your toy horses outside the brothel,” he breathes out. “And I’m sorry, so, so fucking sorry that it took me so long to tell you. That you had to go through all that because you thought that I didn’t love you when I did. I’ve loved you since then and I still love you now. I love you and I just hope that I’m not too late because God, Y/N. You were the one who saved me..who protected me all these years and I can’t lose you again,” he tells you, his hands cradling your face. “I thought…I thought I was going to die when Sabini’s men took me, Y/N and all I could think of was you. How were you? Were you free? You were the only one in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so, so much,” he adds tenderly, his forehead against yours. You were smiling at him, tears streaming down your face. Tommy loves you. Tommy loves you.
“I love you too, Tommy,” you whispered. “I’ve loved you all this time. I can’t believe we’re finally here,” you smiled at him. Tommy throws away the umbrella in your hand. He takes your chin with his fingers gently. Tommy could feel his heart beat faster and faster. He knew that if he'd kiss you now, he’d dream of your beautiful face and soft lips forever. With bated breath, he takes in your expressions, trying to look for any signs of doubt but he couldn’t see it. Is this how it’s like to kiss the face of an angel? He licks his lips and then…and then, he kisses you. He was reborn. His reincarnation was complete. Earthly lifetimes before this had nothing on the life that he will build with you. He loves you. You love him. Tommy kisses you with years of passion and tenderness in his heart. The crease on his brows melts away and your whimpering sounded like God whispering to his ear. Nevermind the rain, nevermind everything. You were here and so was he.
-
Tommy’s been staying over at your house ever since you professed your love for each other. He’d leave in the morning to attend to some business and then come back in the afternoon, shedding layers of today’s work into your arms.
“How are you so beautiful?” he asks in hushed tones. His finger trails down your cheek gently. “I love you,”
“Tommy,” you chuckled. “You’ve been showering me with praise.”
“I’ve been waiting all my life to say these things to you, love. I’ll make up for those lost years everyday.”
“I love you, Tommy,” you told him, rising from your position to kiss his cheek. “I don’t think I can love anyone else as much as I love you,”
“Pol knows about us,” he whispers. “I think John and Arthur are wondering where I’m always off to because they never see me home,”
“Nothing escapes past her,” you told him. “I miss her…I still can’t believe she intercepted those letters. I don’t know…I can’t hold a grudge against her but I can’t…”
“It’s alright. I understand,” he replied. “Took me a while to get over it too because…because if she didn’t, we’d have all of this earlier,”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me before?”
“I wanted to tell you before I left but I can’t make you wait for me that long. I knew I was coming back to you but what if I couldn’t?” he asked. He holds your body closer to him. The hushed tones that you spoke in made the bedroom so homey, comfortable, and nice. His chin falls on the top of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”
“I didn’t want you to love me,” you told him. “I was a prostitute, Tom and I…I don’t want to love you when I can’t give you all of me,” you whispered.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have done something to make sure that you wouldn’t have to do any of that.” he said. He takes your fingers into his, weaving his with yours.
-
“Are you off to see Y/N again?” Polly asked, sipping on her tea while she watched her nephew fix his coat. Tommy patted himself down, making sure that everything was in place.
“Of course, Pol,” he smiles. “Off to see my woman,”
“Can…can you tell her that she’s invited for Sunday’s dinner?” Polly asked, wiping her worries away by rubbing her hands. “I’ve missed her. The family misses her,”
“I’ll try to,” Tommy replied. “But don’t expect anything, Pol,”
“Of course,” she replied. Her lips pursed together. “I wanted to tell her about…how sorry I am for the things I’ve done. It should have been your decision to stay in touch and not mine, no matter how much I justify it. I—I feel as though it was my fault for putting her through all of that, Tom,”
“Thank you, Pol,” Tommy nodded.
“What has she been up to these days?” she asked.
“Fixing her estate and her properties,” he replied. “She’s been mostly cooped inside the house,” Polly only nods to herself, unsure of what to say. Tommy leaves with a click of his tongue.
When he arrived at your house, you were in your office, sorting through some of the documents Simon left you. You look up at him from where you were sitting with a smile and he takes that as a sign to come closer. He kisses your shoulder lightly before reading over the documents.
“You want to rest?” he asked, voice husky. He puts his hands on your shoulders and massages you gently.
“Thanks, Tommy,”
“Polly’s inviting you to come to Sunday’s dinner,” he says. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to nor do you have to answer now. Ada’s gonna be there along with Karl. John and the kids…Arthur and Finn. Pol and then, me,”
Tommy kisses the top of your head, watching you sort through the papers.
“Can I…can I think about it?” you asked him. You could see how important it is to him but you couldn’t agree just because he’s Tommy. It didn’t work that way anymore. He hums, satisfied with your reply before sitting on the chair adjacent to the table.
“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“Just…some of his unsettled accounts,” you sighed. “I want them paid to avoid issues,” you told him. He takes a document and reads it over. Oh. “I want to start a foundation for children or at least, fund an orphanage and a school,”
“Do it,” he tells you. “Simon has left a considerable amount of properties to last generations.”
“What time should I go to Arrow House for Sunday’s dinner?” you asked. Tommy halts and looks at you with a grateful smile.
“I’ll come get you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy,” he tells you. You only nod, if Tommy can look at you like that again, then a thousand awkward dinners don’t mean a thing.
-
Sunday comes and you stand at the door of Arrow House with his hand on your back. He could see you fumble nervously. You almost looked shy. An amused smile graces his face. Why would you be so shy when you’ve told John off multiple times? You helped raise Finn. Ada basically considers you as a sister. You were the only person that Arthur respects. Polly thinks of you as her daughter.
“Are you ready?” he asks, his raspy voice coating you like honey. You nod and he chuckles, opening the door to his mansion.
The Shelbys were everywhere. Ada was running after Karl and John’s kids. Arthur was laughing at something that John probably said. Polly was nowhere to be found, probably fussing in the kitchen.
“See? It’s like you never left,” he comforts you. He knows better than to have the attention all on you so he tries to slip past everyone without being noticed. Still, your arrival was much awaited and soon enough, you were engulfed in strong arms.
“Y/N!” John greets, hugging you tighter. “Oh, everyone! Y/N’s here!” he announces and you chuckle.
“John…” Tommy warns but before his little brother can let you go, Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder.
“How are you, dove?” he asked.
“I’ve been well,” you replied. Ada comes next, shooing her brothers away to have you all to herself.
“Y/N. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. You loom as radiant as ever! I hope my idiot brother’s treating you well, hm?” she asked, pointedly looking at an amused Tommy who was leaning by the fireplace. “Seriously, how are you? Are you doing well?” she asks in a more serious tone.
“I am,” you replied. “Sorry it took me a year to recover,” you replied.
“We understand, Y/N. We could’ve waited longer but Tommy here couldn’t. He was so fidgety!” she chuckled. “Basically pissed on everyone for a whole year! He almost got in a brawl with Arthur. That’s how miserable Tommy was but then again, you’ve never really seen Tommy being aggressive,”
“I haven’t,” you replied. Honestly, you were so glad that Tommy kept his gang and violence from you. You’ve never seen him land a punch even though you knew that he slept beside a gun.
“Thank you for coming, though,” Ada says. “We all missed you and we wanted to come visit you but Tommy warned us to give you time and space until you’re ready after what happened,”
“You know that I’m always happy to be here. Everything was just too much at so little time, Ada,” you replied. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I didn’t want you to be with me when I moved back here. I needed room to grow and heal,”
“You don’t have to apologise, Y/N. In any case, I actually feel quite guilty for the things that I allowed myself to put you through. All of us played a part in your marriage with Simon Coventry. I just…if you’re being forced or if there’s an inkling that you don’t want to be with Tommy—“
“Ada!” you laughed lightly. It puts a smile on her face. How long has it been since you laughed like that? “I’m alright. I love Tommy and I love your family. There’s not a day that I don’t want to see him. I’m always looking forward to his visits and when he can't, I still do the same anyway.” you told her.
“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Tommy’s really lucky,”
You were so engrossed with your conversation with Ada that you didn’t see Polly approaching. It was Ada who called Polly over. Tension settles on your spine; creeping up like ice. Your throat dries and Ada coughs.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, smiling at you encouragingly before leaving. Polly walks towards you cautiously, scared that she’ll scare you. You smile at her tightly, your cheeks hurting from the control.
“I…” you sighed, looking away. “I know that you want what is best for me but you didn’t have to intercept the letters,” you started. “I know that we didn’t know when Tommy’s coming back…or if he’s coming back and you wanted me to take the opportunity to–”
“Y/N,” she stops you, a soft hand on your crossed arms. “You don’t have to defend me. I’m so sorry for what happened and for what I did. I had no right to do what I did. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be happy…you’d–” she chokes. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, a stray tear on her face. She tries to shake it off. “I’m really sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday,”
“But I forgive you, Pol,” you told her. “It was hard to do so and it’s harder to repair what we lost but you can’t blame yourself for the things that Simon did. We both didn’t know,” you told her. “Thank you for apologising and…thank you for always looking out for me,”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, so sorry,” she cried. She could feel her throat tighten and her eyes glisten. You smiled at her. Maybe this was what you needed to finally close that part in your life.
The afternoon was filled with reunions and with warmth. A regular weekend at the Shelby’s, just like when you and Tommy were younger. Oh how you’ve missed them–how you’ve missed having a family.
-
The night was quiet at the Arrow House. Everybody left at the sight of nightfall, dimming laughter filling the halls. You and Tommy were at the drawing room in the second storey of his mansion, looking at the cars that left one by one. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, his chin on the crook of your neck. He breathes in and kisses what he could kiss.
“You alright?” he asked, pulling you closer.
“Very,” you told him. “Made me realise how much I missed having your family around…I miss having a family,”
“You are a part of us, you know that, right?” he asked.
“I know,” you replied, laying closer to him.
“You can be a part of us. A real Shelby,” he whispers. “Y/N, look at me,” he asks of you, removing his hands gently and turning your around.
“Tommy?”
“Did you know Polly told me that only love can blind a man as powerful as me?” he asked. “I realised that wasn’t the case. It was you all along, love. My love for you is secondary. You’re the one who makes me weak, who makes me blind. I love you so much. I’ll burn the world if it means that you’re safe, you’re with me, and you’re happy. Y/N, do you want to be a Shelby?” he asked. He pulls out a ring from his bolster shakily. You’ve never seen him nervous. “I’ve held onto this for so long. This was the first thing I bought when I came back from war,” he says. The gold ring with a single diamond glimmers. “I thought of getting you something else…a bigger diamond, maybe but material things don’t matter to me anymore. The only thing I can promise is my love, my loyalty. I am the only thing I can promise you. I’m quite scared because if you’ll marry me, you’ll marry a man and you will marry a curse. I can’t…I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t go on without you anymore. It’s selfish, I know but will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked. You stood there, dumbfounded.
“Tommy–of course, I’ll marry you,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “I’ve loved you for so long,” you chuckled, extending your hand towards his equally shaky ones. He puts the ring on your ring finger. It has always belonged to you. “I’ll marry you right now. Oh, Tom,” you cried, kissing him feverishly. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. Is this life even real?
“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he rasps and you nod. He holds your hand with his gentle ones and sits you on the bed. He smiles at you in the dimming light of his bedroom. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He was afraid to see you disappear if he was too loud. “So beautiful for me,” he says, tucking a stray hair and kissing the spot under your ear. You hum, fishing for the buttons of his shirt and he chuckles, forcefully removing it from himself.
“Tom,” you whispered, unbuttoning your dress. He nods, leaning on the headboard and letting you straddle him. The softness of your skin against his was sending him over the edge but he chooses to control himself. He lets your dress and brassiere fall on your shoulders, your breasts bare to him. He angles himself, taking a nipple in his mouth and licking it softly. You whimpered, the feeling of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of your body was something that you never thought was going to happen.
“Is it alright if I bite?” he asked and you nodded. “Say it. Come on, love,”
“Do whatever you want to me, Tommy,” you mewled, hands massaging your silky breasts while he sucks on your nipple.
“Fuck, love,” He groans at your response, bucking his hips unexpectedly. “The things you do to a man, Y/N. The things you do to me,” his hands travel on your sides, goosebumps appearing from the softness of his touch. Tommy cups your heat through your underwear. “Remove your dress for me,”
You nod, the cold hitting you all at once when you raised yourself from him. He watches the fabric flow so softly until you are left with nothing but your underwear.
“Remove that too,” he says, and you nodded. “You’re so obedient, Y/N,” he praises. “May I?” he asked and you nodded, a thick finger dipping in your wetness. You both moaned at the contact before he removed it slowly. You watched as he brought his finger up to his mouth, making a show of licking you off of him. “You’re so sweet,”
“Tommy,” you whimpered. “Don’t tease me,”
“Alright, alright,” he replied. You remove yourself from him, laying down on the bed with your legs spread wide. He can see your pussy glisten and he curses himself, removing his pants hastily before joining you. “Spit,” he orders you, his hand waiting expectedly by your mouth. You obliged and watched him jerk himself off. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says.
“Tommy–”
“Please,” he begs. “I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it,”
“I want you to make love to me, Tommy,” you whimpered. “Please show me how much you love me,”
“Oh, love,” he groans. Tommy comes towards you, so close, so warm. His hands found your knees and he caressed your knees. “You're so beautiful, darling,”
“Tom,” you mewled. His prying fingers found your heat. He cups your mound and then parts your folds, rubbing them up and down. He smiles at you, leaning over your figure until his nose brushes yours.
“Hey,” he tells you. He watches you closely and he wonders why he never had the courage to tell you how much he loved you earlier. The curve of your lips, the lashes on your eyes…he wanted to memorise every part of you and commemorate it. He leans down, his mouth on your mouth, kissing you so slowly. This is love, you thought. Tommy nudges your legs wider apart, his tip pressing into your wetness. “Fuck, love,” he rasps, rutting into your more roughly.
“I need you inside me, Tom,” you breathed. He nods, aligning himself on your wet slit. He feels the anticipation run through his veins. He never would have even dreamed of this. In a slow stroke, Tommy’s cock finds its way inside easily; years of longing, passion, and pent-up emotions seeping through your pores.
“You’re, ugh—“ he groans. Fuck. “Don’t fucking move yet. I’ll—“
“Tom—“ you mewled, grinding on his pelvis in circles. You felt full; you felt complete.
“Love, please,” he begs. “Let me…let me savour this. Want this to last,” He feels your body relax and he sighs. Really, if he decided to move now, he’s only going to embarrass himself. He curses to himself, ashamed that he had to pull himself back a little bit. “I’m going to move, yeah?” he asked and you could only nod. Tommy leans his figure over yours, his lips landing on your nipple. He licks on it lightly as he adjusts himself. He pulls out slowly, before going back in slowly.
You both moan in unison. Tommy continues his movements while he sucked on your nipple. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling it softly.
“I love you, Tom,” you whimpered,feeling his cock rubbing inside. “I love you so much,”
“Mmm,” he only hums, his attention on your other nipple now. Your fingers find their way onto your clitoris and you rub circles on it while Tommy fucks you deeper. “Fuck,” he groans, breaking away from the comfort of your arms and leaning back. He removes your hand and raises one of your legs. You watched as Tommy fucks you faster, but now it was deeper and you felt more full because of your new position. “Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his thumb coming in contact with your clit.
“Tommy,” you moaned when you felt his rough thumb rubbing circles. “Fuck, I—“
“It’s alright, darling. I will take —good—care—of—you,” he said, thrusting harder into you to make his point. “You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You have me…your Tommy,”
“My Tommy,” you whispered, as if it was a new concept when Tommy knew that he belonged to you from the very start. Still, hearing the words come from your mouth excites him.
“Say it again,”
“My Tommy,” you repeated. “Fuck, Tommy,” you mewled, pinching your nipples together.
“Fuck, you want me to fuck babies into you?” he asked, quickening his pace.
“Yes, Tommy, please!” you whimpered. “Going to make you a daddy,”
“I’m going to make love to you everyday and cum inside your pretty pussy, yeah?” he rasps, his cock fucking your wet pussy harder. “Oh fuck,”
The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, your wetness welcoming him with every thrust fills the room. You were both high, moans and grunts filling every crevice of the room. Tommy fucks you sloppier while your fingers play with your clit.
“I’m close, ugh—Tommy,” you grunted. “Tom, Tom, Tommy,”
“Let go, love,” he whimpered. “Go on,”
His words fuelled you and you released a high pitched moan as he felt your walls clench around him. The feeling of your pussy milking him sends him into overdrive and you feel it. You felt his warm cum coating your walls.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans, thrusting his hips into you even more to chase his orgasm. “I love you. I fucking love you,” he rasps, collapsing into you.
“I love you, Tommy,” you replied, playing with the soft tendrils of his hair. He lays there, unmoving, his softening cock still inside you.
“Let’s stay like this forever,” he says, kissing your breast.
“Alright,”
“Now, you’ve seen me,”
“And you’ve seen me,”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1925
“Tom!” you shrieked, looking at the muddy footprints that stained your white carpet. Over the last few years, you both decided that it would be best to stay at your place instead of the Arrow House. You both agreed that it was too dark and too lonely. It was so unlike the lush gardens, the water fountain, and the scurrying feet of the maids in your house. Besides, Tommy liked it here better. It was brighter, happier, and his nephews and nieces loved to visit.
“Oh no,” he hears a child say. “Oh, no, no, no,”
“Shh,” he crouches down to her height. “If we’re quiet, mum won’t see us,”
“Thomas Shelby! I told you to leave the boots outside whenever you’re out with the horses,”
“Dad—I don’t want to get mummy mad,” she whispers. “Let’s say sorry,”
Tommy looks at his daughter with wonder in his eyes. He never knew he’d love someone else as much as he loves you.
“Alright,” he nods, bracing himself. “Come on,”
His daughter holds his hands and gets out of the hiding place. She immediately cowers behind her father when she sees the hand on your hip.
“It was dad’s fault!” you heard her say, running towards you and hugging your legs. “Daddy did it!”
You frowned at Tommy but he could see the smile that dared to crack.
“Oh, bub. Where’s your loyalty to your old man, hmm?” he asked, a hand over his heart. “Darling, I must let you know that…” he trailed off kissing your cheek first. “Our daughter here is a natural,”
“Tommy…”
“I know, I know,” he soothed, massaging the crease between your eyebrows. “We’re sorry, right, bub?” he asked your little girl. She nodded, looking up at you. “Traitor,” Tommy whispers to himself before ruffling her hair.
“Just don’t do it again, alright?” you asked him.
BIRMINGHAM, 1913
“Do you think there’s a future where the two of us can be together?” Tommy asked. Upon seeing your panicked reaction, he coughs. “What I meant is…that we’ll still be like this,”
“Of course, we will,” you replied. “Only better…because by that time, we won’t have to worry about anything anymore because we’re together.”
“Really?”
“Of course, Tommy. You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you too,” you replied, looking at him, trying to look for his reaction. You looked away when you saw the ghost of a smile paint his features. He’s always been so handsome.
“You won’t,” he replied, taking your hand to make that promise. “You won’t ever lose me,” he tells you.
“I guess, I won’t.”
END A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to upload this. I really am sorry. I'll be uploading a separate author's not soon. But for now, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme @liter4ti @quixscentsposts @homosexualjohnwayne @charli123456789 @Maria_elizabeth21
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#hurt/comfort#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#angst#fluff#smut#protection!tommy
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Is it any surprise that Colin "all or nothing" Bridgerton takes his time trying and failing to understand his feelings after the kiss?
I wrote a little bit about this in a comment on Reddit, but I think some of the frustration that we are hearing from people stems from Colin's lack of vocal processing throughout the first half of the season.
I'll admit that his development is subtle, and happens quietly, but I believe that was done on purpose. It needed to be quiet. For a couple reasons. Hear me out.
For the sake of the carriage scene, Pen needed to not know that Colin was falling for her. People are saying that they felt Colin's declaration felt rushed and sudden, but it was supposed to! His reveal needed to feel completely unexpected!
Penelope is supposed to be shocked by it. In order to believe her shock, we too needed to be a bit shocked. It helped so much with the intensity of the carriage scene. I believe Penelope saw Colin looking at her over the last few weeks, but he's kinda always done that? Only we are supposed to know that Colin feels any differently than normal. If we all had known solidly how Colin felt the whole time then we wouldn't have related to Pen's shock in the carrriage at all. She's shut off any hope of Colin feeling the same way. I think the brevity of the scenes where Colin is looking at her during balls and whatnot are done on purpose (through Pen's eyes). Not to beat a dead horse but the carriage scene really really (to me) wouldn't have felt the same if Colin had given Pen more signs. (And throughout all the criticisms, people seem to all agree that that scene was outstanding. But it doesn't exist in a vacuum!)
So much of what we see of Colin processing his feelings for Penelope is done through looks, facial expressions, body language, etc.
This is a bit unique from the other two seasons, in which Daphne and Anthony were both a bit more aware of what they were feeling (even if they were fighting it) and more obvious about it outwardly to others. Perhaps this is what people feel was missing in the build-up?
We do get some hints of Colin thinking about it and struggling with it as he talks to other people such as the Mondriches, Eloise when he thinks that they've spoken about the kiss, Benedict and Hyacinth after his dream, and later, Violet. But primarily, I think that Colin was simply still figuring it out.
And can we blame him? If I were as all-or-nothing as him, a feeling like I was falling in love with my best friend would scare me half to death. Beyond the initial confusion, he needs to be sure how he feels because once Colin knows what he wants he can't hold himself back from getting it.
I know a lot of people think Colin realizes how he feels immediately after the kiss. I could see that, for sure (and I know it's that way in the books and that Nicola said she thinks it's all in one moment), but ultimately I disagree. It of course jump starts everything (and I don't think anything would have happened without it) but I think that it really does happen more slowly, both before and after that. In the first 2 episodes, Colin is repeatedly affected by Penelope during their scenes. He doesn't overthink it, but it's there. Over episodes 3 and 4 Colin consistently tries and fails to understand what is happening to him, even going as far as to go back to the brothel to try to make it stop, but after kissing them both realizes it's just not the same. (One of my favorite moments was when he goes to kiss one of the ladies, pulls away, and looks dumbfounded after feeling nothing.)
In the last episode, when he's in his study thinking back on the hand-cut scene with Pen, he finally realizes he can't make this stop. In fact, he doesn't even want to. That is the moment everyone was waiting for. And no, it is not shoved in your face, nor in his. It's fast, like "Got it, okay, gotta go." All. Or. Nothing.
Hence Colin making his appearance at the ball, his utter lack of care for society rules in breaking up Pen and Lord Debling's dance. His tunnel vision (and speed, ha!) trying to get to Penelope in the carriage. When Colin knows what he wants he just goes for it. He always does this, as others have said, with Marina, with his investment and then takedown of Jack, with Pen.
If people are left frustrated by the lack of obviousness in Colin's realization, I think that's a little silly. If Colin had fully realized any earlier he would've been breaking things up much faster and it would've been a very different story. The pacing to me was perfect. And it made the pay-off so much more rewarding.
#polin#colin bridgerton#colin x penelope#penelope featherington#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#i cant keep editing this so im just gonna post it
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