#is it truly a choice when a king makes you get married?

[apinchofm]

Arranged

for @elephantinparis

"You avoid me."

Rhaena was surprised to hear Aemond behind her in the royal gardens. She liked to walk through the gardens, giving herself an illusion of freedom. Her father had simply given her up to marry a man she did not wish to marry.

"I thought it best, do you not?" Rhaena said. She lifted her light blue and gold skirts, her dress a bright contrast to her husband's dark and brooding black and blue that he always wore.

Meeting at the top of the stairs, Aemond made the steps towards her. She was always making him do that.

He smirked, "And how will we give your father and my mother a grandchild?"

He did not bed her on their wedding night, choosing to cut himself and make it seem as she had lost her virtue.

She did not know what to make of him. He could be so aloof and cold. His words, little as they were, were often sarcastic.

So she was indifferent to him, but delighted in the little ways she could frustrate him. She spent time with Heleana and Daeron and the twins. At court, with her Velaryon cousins and other ladies, she was delightful.

"We have meen married two moons and you are still intact." He said lowly, "People will get suspicious."

Rhaena frowned, "But...I..."

"I am not forcing you into anything. I prefer my partners enthusiastic." Aemond interrupted sharply.

"I am sure they are, when you pay them." Rhaena snarked.

Aemond merely smirked, "Oh, they are. Does that make you jealous, my sweet dragon?"

She scowled causing his smile to widen slightly. He enjoyed frustrating her. Suddenly, there was an unreadable look in his eye. His leaned in even closer, his right hand around her waist pulling her close.

Was he going to...? Rhaena wondered to herself. He had only kissed her twice and she was no expert in kissing but they were good, she supposed. But they were for show.

"Unhand me." She whispered.

"We are being observed." He turned his head and she followed his eye line to see some courtiers who gave them a knowing look, leaving the gardens to no doubt spread rumours.

...

She hated Aemond and he despises her. That is what Rhaena told herself, even as her lower belly burned in his presence. She did not know why.

He was like a dragonlord of old. Much like her father, he fashioned himself after Maegor or Aegon the Conqueror.

But he would never enter her chambers without permission. Sometimes, gifts and books were sent to her. New gowns.

She hated him. She hated how conflicted he made her.

"Is that for your sister?"

She gasped, shocked by how silently he could move. She was sitting at her desk and he merely stood in the doorway of their adjoining rooms.

She was in fact writing to Baela, who was on Dragonstone, utterly beloved by their father, to tell her how she was. She had promised, after all.

"Yes." Rhaena said.

"Do you wish for me to send it for you? I have a few of father's correspondence that I will sending." He asked.

She looked at him suspiciously, "Why?"

"Rhaena, neither of us are stupid. You writing to your sister is not treasonous and no one will question it of I send it in your place."

"Oh." Rhaena nodded.

She was not convinced until the following afternoon, he returned with two letters for her.

"You sent them." Rhaena observed, seeing the seal. Driftmark on one, the other Dragonstone - her grandmother and Baela.

"I said I would, did I not?" Aemond scoffed. He had been honest - if not brutally so - with her.

"Thank you."

"Will I be welcome in your chambers then, sweet dragon?" He asked teasingly. She hugged angrily and ignored his chuckles as she stormed into her chambers.

…

How dare he?

She supposed she could not do what Rhaenyra did - Aemond would probably kill the man involved.

"A child is a blessing." Alicent said, one afternoon when they had tea, "Aemond's labour was easy."

Her mother's labour had not been easy. She recalls the baby dying soon after and her mother's pyre. She did want to be a mother.

...

Garmund Hightower seemed nice. He was tall with light strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. A part of Rhaena thought to ask him to father her children if her husband still hated her.

He asked her dance during the King's nameday banquet and she was enjoying herself.

Aemond watched his wife dance with his cousin.

"Aemond, please do not kill our cousin here," Daeron warned lowly when he saw his brother stand.

"Of course not." He murmured noncommittally.

Rhaena, in her off-shoulder pink and silver ballgown, stood out with ease. He watched his cousin's hand slide to the small of her back.

Garmund's face fell upon seeing his cousin and he bowed stiffly, walking away. To test Aemond's temper was to be like waking Vhagar.

Rhaena turned around and gasped in surprise seeing him.

"Aemond."

"Wife." His hands pulled her close, and she instinctively placed her hands on his shoulders.

"You do not like to dance."

"That does not mean I do not know how." A dance was much like combat, and he had been sure to train in both.

"Enjoying my cousin's company?"

"He was being kind." Rhaena said, "A familial trait I am sure skipped you."

He smirked, "Oh, my sweet dragon."

"Do not call me that."

"Why? Which part do you object to?" Aemond whispered in her ear. He watched her shiver and hummed. This was why she despised him.

"Come." He said, tugging her out of the ballroom. Rhaena was confused but did not cause a scene but was confused as he dragged her out of the Great Hall.

He took her into a dark alcove and pressed her into the wall. Her breath hitched, and she looked up at him, violet eyes wide and nervous.

Then he kissed her.

He cradled her head gently, so odd and contrasting to his kisses' frantic and desperate nature. She tried to keep up, swiping her tongue against his. Then he pulled away, kissing her neck. He dragged his teeth across her neck and she sighed.

Then he stopped.

Rhaena huffed heavily, her heart beating wildly in her chest against her ribs.

"That was rather intimate." She stuttered out.

"Yes." Aemond agreed.

They returned to their chambers silently. She did not know what to do except get ready for bed as she usually did. She was in no mood to go back to the ball.

She heard a knock at her door and then soon after, Aemond opened the door, coming in. She was sitting on her chaise, reading.

"Aemond." She greeted gently, closing her book.

"Why did you-? I mean, you- what was that?" Rhaena demanded.

"That was a kiss, sweet girl." He said.

"No, it was more than that. You-! Ugh!" In frustration, she threw the book in her hand at his head, unable to articulate.

He dodged the book with ease, stepping to the side, amused, "May I ask what that was for?"

"You! You always hate me and then you do kind things and give me gifts and send my letters and then hate me all over and I hate that I cannot fathom why or how and I..." She ranted before wiping her face when she felt something wet.

She was crying, she realized. Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks.

"I don't hate you."

His words stunned her into silence. She opened and closed her mouth, unsure.

"I don't hate you, sweet girl. I hate being forced into arrangements. I despise your Strong boys-"

"Again, treasonous-"

"But I do not hate you." Aemond finished, ignoring her objection. He looked at her, sapphire and indigo boring into her. He was not wearing his patch. She never had minded and was not scared of him as other ladies in the court were.

She sat down on the carpet, exhausted. Aemond sat down next to her. He handed her the book she threw as they just looked into the fireplace.

"I do not socialize often," Aemond said after a while, and she looked at him, "Nor do I court. So I do not know how to..."

She needed kindness, he had realised early. A girl separated from the only family she knew; her twin sister and grandparents and her father so cold as to let her go.

He tried. He gave her gifts silently and sent her letters.

"Perhaps you should practice more." Rhaena suggested quietly, "You are a good dancer. And intelligent."

"As are you. You are better at getting people to like you." She was the darling of the court. Even married, people flocked to her.

"I would like you to speak to me. I have never been good at nonverbal communication." Rhaena whispered. He nodded.

"I am scared of having a baby." Rhaena admitted, "After my mother..."

"We need not have a child if we start fucking, Rhaena." There were ways to prevent or delay.

Her face warmed at his crass choice of words, but she cleared her "But is that not why people...?"

"One reason." Aemond said, "But it can bring two people closer. Or so I hear."

"Oh." Rhaena said, "But you had not-?"

"I do not wish to force you. I told you. I like my partner's willing and I think you want to, but you do not know how."

He was right. There was something that always stirred inside of her around him, even when he was frustrating.

"I do not want to harm you, Rhaena." Aemond admitted quietly, "We are in a mess not of our making. Let us find something from it. But we need not do anything yet."

She reached out and gently touched his hand, thankfully. She felt his hand tense and he looked at her confused and she worried that she had gone too far.

But he held onto her, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. She found the gesture soothing and shuffled closer to him.

Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, she sighed, "May we be friends, husband?"

He smiled slightly, "We may, wife."

[quin-ns]

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

[juletheghoul]

home

a/n: The premiere look was a literal gift from the Gods, truly fantastic stuff. With that said, of course I had to work on the next chapter of The General and his Girlwife. This isn't the end for them, there is still so much life for them and I have a whole inbox full of amazing asks (I promise I haven't forgotten about them!) to get through, and I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus eats pussy because he's a KING, lactation kink, creampie, Marcus gets emotional, pregnancy and baby stuff, childbirth and some graphic descriptions of pain, talks of infertility, **FEELINGS** let me know if I missed any!

This is the fic I referenced in this preview

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 5k (whoops!)

reblogs are appreciated

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The ritual had been completed, and a week later–life had gone back to normal. The two of you had vowed to put it out of your mind until the Gods made their intentions for you clear. 

Marcus, however, was leaving; he'd been called on by the Emperor for a tour, and he had no choice but to accept.

You pouted, and he smiled. 

“It is only for a short time, my love. Barely a moon's turn and I will be back in this house, and your arms.” He smiled despite your obvious displeasure, giddy with the way you clutched so greedily at him. 

“I wish to follow you Marcus, I do not wish to stay here without you.” You buried your face into his neck, taking in his comforting scent greedily. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding him close while his own wrapped tightly around your waist. 

“And I wish nothing more than for you to be with me, but you cannot. It is not a place for women and I would not have my beautiful,” his hands cupped your cheeks, pressing kisses to your mouth between words, “lovely, tempting wife there pulling at my attention, as well as that of the bolder men in my company.”

You sigh, knowing he would not change his mind. 

“Very well. I will content myself alone.” Your tone made him laugh, and you smiled into his skin, well aware that you sounded more akin to an unruly child than a grown, married woman. 

“You are spoiled, terribly misbehaved and spoiled.” His hands slipped down and grabbed at your backside, “and it is entirely my fault.” 

“Yes it is.” You jut your chin out and he pressed a kiss to it. “When do you leave?” 

“Preparations are being made and I depart in three days time.” He pressed another kiss to the back of your hand, smiling as he led you to sit with him. “Once I am back, I shall plan something for us. How does that sound?” 

“And what shall you plan?” 

“We could travel, we could go to the sea and take in the fresh air, we could do anything my love. Whatever makes you happy.” His eyes shone with the same love you felt in your very bones for him. 

“I only need you for that.” 

-

The intensity of the craving made you frown, pulling your attention from the task of refilling the cellars of your house. One minute you had been taking note of how much grain there was, how much olive oil and wine was in your stores and the next, the desire for figs and honey and fresh, ripe pomegranate was so strong it almost moved your feet towards the kitchens. You stopped yourself though, running through your mental tally of days since your last blood and willing yourself to stay calm. 

“Girl, be a dear and fetch me figs and honey if you would.” You pat her hand softly, unable to stop yourself from softening the imagined blow of asking for something instead of fetching it yourself. Her eyes widened for a moment, before nodding. 

“Yes Domina.” She ran off, and you ignored the looks of the women who were helping you with your accounts. 

“Shall we call for a Medicus, Domina?” The eldest of them whispered in your ear, one who has always treated you with a softness that at times felt motherly, her work roughened hand landing soft on your shoulder. Nerves fluttered in your belly, a deep seeded fear threading through your very being as the memory of your loss filled your mind's eye so vividly it set your hands to shaking. But another emotion emerged, a fragile thing coloured with a hope so big it didn’t fit within your body. Without Marcus, it was difficult to navigate the swirl of different feelings fighting for dominance.

“Domina, let me call for the Medicus.” Gently, she guided you to sit, silently dismissing the staff tending to you. “I think it best you rest while we wait, I shall have him brought here to look you over.” 

“Yes, yes that is what we must do. I—yes I should rest a while.” With a shaky breath you smiled a smile that did not reach your eyes, and headed towards your chamber. 

When the medicus finally did arrive, the older woman held your hand, doing much to calm you in the absence of Marcus. Silently the man went about his business, checking and prodding and looking for the signs that you tentatively prayed were there. 

When he raised his head and smiled with a nod, both you and the woman cried with joy.

-

He was eager to step foot in his house, eager to be reunited with his heart. 

His blessedly peaceful campaign had gone well, the Emperor was in good spirits and for the first time in years, there was peace. He couldn’t wait to tell her how it had gone, couldn’t wait to press his kisses upon her skin. 

The house was surprisingly quiet when he finally arrived, the guards were hushed, his usual attendants were nowhere to be seen and his love was not where he thought he’d find her. 

When he reached their shared room things were stranger still, the gauzy linens were drawn across the windows, blocking out most of the sunlight. Incense was burning, and for a moment he feared she’d fallen ill while he’d been gone.

“My love? What is the matter?” She reclined in their bed, propped up on a nest or pillows, and her face lit up to see him. She was glowing, a soft sheen shining on her brow and for a moment he thought it might be a fever but she looked well, she looked beautiful. 

“I am well Marcus, truly.” She beckoned to him, arms outstretched and he all but ran to her side, sitting close to hold her hands. “We have been blessed, my love, truly blessed.” Tears shone in her eyes, he frowned for a moment until she placed his hand on her belly, and then it felt like his heart would jump out of chest. 

“You are sure?” He brought his face to her womb, pressing his lips to it while trying not to fall apart with joy. “Truly?”

“It has been confirmed, I am with child. You are to be a father, Marcus.” She shone with life, with vitality and was as beautiful as a Goddess, he couldn’t handle the joy in his heart. He wept into her belly, thanking the Gods, and praying for the health of the love of his life, and the child inside her.

-

Every single day of those first few weeks greeted you with fear.

Every free minute, every spare thought was filled with silent prayer, offerings were made to appease the Gods, you ate only the foods suggested by the Medicus. Marcus let you do nothing except rest, and take short, slow walks throughout the house. He was thorough with the instructions given to him, he rubbed the special oil onto the skin of your belly to help with the growth, he never left your side, he was gentle in all things. 

Once you started to show, and the most dangerous period had passed, even you started to shed some of the fear. Hope, and joy filled the house and everyone shared in it. The women were eager to have a little one running around, Marcus grew more and more excited at the prospect and filled your house with things for the child. Toys and a special chair, robes and little tunics to dress them in.

“Have you thought of a name?” You asked him as he rubbed at your tired feet, easing the ache as your stomach seemed to grow before your very eyes. 

“I have, but I haven’t really given any option much thought. It is best to wait until the child is born I think. And you? Is there a name you favour?”

“Well, a boy would definitely be named Marcus after you.” You smiled, imagining a miniature of him. 

“And for a girl?”

“We could honour the Gods, name her Diana, I also think Aurelia is quite pretty, or Acacia and name her after her father.” Your smile grew, imagining a little darling with his soft waves, his square feet.

“Fine choices.” He smiled, moving to the other foot and you sighed, soothed by his touch. 

“I will pray for a boy, to carry your name and carry on your legacy.” He shook his head.

“Give me a clever girl with your eyes, and your smile and I shall be happier than any other man alive.” He pressed a kiss to your shin. Tears sprung to your eyes, it was happening a lot of late, the baby made your emotions run rampant, his sweetness didn’t help.

“There there my love, no tears.” He soothed with gentle tone, well aware of your sensitivity, yet still as patient and loving as always. 

“I cannot help it, the joy is overwhelming, the love for you, for this little being is too much to fit inside me.” You held your belly, tears falling to dampen the skin of your chest. He moved to sit beside you, and gathered you into his arms, once again soothing you beyond words could explain. 

“I understand, I have been so blessed in this life it is difficult not to dwell and fear the worst. Let us just enjoy our good fortune, no more tears, it pains me to see you cry.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and you nodded silently, throat aching with emotion. 

With a tenderness that only made the ache stronger, he kissed the tear stains on your skin, smiling softly. When he got to your mouth, it was a reassuring press, a silent promise to you and to the life growing inside. It helped, but your mood, your appetites changed like the winds these days and the tears turned to desire for him so fast it made your head spin. 

Your tongue breached his mouth, corrupting the softness of his kiss and pulling a groan from somewhere in his chest. His hand pressed softly to your womb, while his mouth claimed yours in the softness of your shared bed. 

“Marcus-” It came out half moaned, half pleading. 

“Yes my love?” He breathed the words into the skin of your neck, his tongue mapping out the lines he liked to travel with his kisses, unsurprised at how quickly your passion for him was stirred with the child inside.

“Do you desire me? Do you wish for me to give you my cock?” Slowly, he exposed you, pulling the special tunic made to accommodate your belly off. The large swell, the heavy weight of your breasts, the swelling in your feet–all of the changes in your body had made you fear he would no longer find you desirable. He’d been quick to correct that assumption however. 

With your lip caught between your teeth, you nodded. 

Carefully, he turned you on your side, supporting the weight of your belly with pillows and linens before divesting himself of his own layers. The sight of him, skin golden and cock hardening turned your cunt to liquid. He smiled at the open desire on your face, positioning himself so he straddled the thigh resting on the bed, while lifting and holding the other, lining himself up at the mouth of your cunt. 

“Are you comfortable?” Your heart swelled for a moment, smiling at him before nodding. 

He took himself in hand, stroking a few times to bring himself to full mast before finally sinking in to the hilt. 

“So wet.” He whispered almost to himself, eyes focused on the way your cunt swallowed his length whole, coating it in your arousal. “My pretty little wife, with her pretty little cunt.” His fingers gripped at your thigh while he found his rhythm, angling himself to find the spot–

You keened, gasping as he huffed out a satisfied laugh. 

“There it is, that is the spot, yes?” He focused, hitting it like a bullseye while you clutched at the linens, too blissed out to answer but it mattered not, he knew. Sweat beaded on his brow, the muscles in his arms gleamed in the low candlelight as he panted out his exertion. His beauty so obvious, so highlighted there as he loved you that it filled the little space in your belly not filled with his child with the beating of butterfly wings. 

Your fingers reached out to him, needing to feel him surround you and he smiled, leaning forward to catch the tips of them with his lips while his hips moved faster. Your arousal pooled at the base of him, soaking the fine patch of hair between your legs, as well as the curls at the base of his cock.

With a crooked grin, he reached between your legs to swirl his thumb around your swollen clit and the climax is so close your legs start to tremble. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop Marcus–” It was so close, building like a fire in your hips, spreading like lightning throughout your veins, dripping from where you were joined onto the linens of your bed. Your hand crept down, joining his to press his fingers closer, to guide his movements faster until you burst around him, squeezing him so tight he groaned and slowed his steady thrusting to a grind, his groin pressed tight. Your cunt fluttered around him, pleasure blooming and flooding your body like good, strong wine and it only intensified when he started moving again, chasing his own end while you floated on your cloud. It only took him a few thrusts before he filled you, fucking his seed deep. 

His chest rose and fell with each rapid breath, smiling and laughing softly as he pulled himself out.

Your combined passion smeared against your hip when he surged forward to claim your mouth in a kiss. His big hand curled around the curve of your neck softly, such a contrast to how it gripped your thigh. It slid down, smooth as silk before squeezing at your breast. 

“Oh!’ The warm drip shocked you, the milk beaded at your nipple before dripping down the valley between your breasts. The bigger shock though, was how quickly he chased it with his tongue. The arousal only flared again, sharp as a knife at the moan he let out. With an almost drunk expression, he wrapped his lips around the peak, and tasted your milk straight from the source. 

“Good?” Your fingers threaded through his sweat-soaked waves, cradling him close while he drank deep. His expression was almost sheepish, almost ashamed when he pulled away. 

“I do not know what has come over me,” He licked at the tip, staring at the other breast longingly, “I had to taste you, it’s so sweet.” He dipped his head again, drinking from the other breast, deep, strong pulls that only made the red hot coal of desire within you burn even brighter than before. When he pulled away he was breathing hard, shocked at his own reaction. 

“Did I hurt you?” He licked at sensitive peaks again, filling your brain with a fog of lust so strong you could barely think. 

“No, not at all, it feels really good.” You pulled him closer, urging him to drink, while guiding his hand between your legs. With a knowing grin, he obeyed. 

-

You knew from the moment your eyes opened in the morning, that the baby would come. There was an ache, a pulsing, a violence to its movements within your womb. The child was as impatient to emerge, as you were to give birth and finally have it whole and healthy in your arms. 

With a sigh, you tried to adjust yourself, smiling as Marcus pressed himself closer in his sleep, his big hand holding the swell. 

“I think today is the day, hmm?” You whispered to your belly, it kicked hard enough to make you wince. 

“Gods above, I felt that one, this child will be strong.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling another sigh from you. “How are you feeling?”

“I think it will be today, it feels like the baby has moved lower.” You did your best to rise, groaning before he all but lifted you to sit upright. 

“I will make the preparations, the midwife is ready and waiting for our summons.” He rose quickly, making you laugh with his urgency.

“Peace Marcus, it will not be right this second, but I do feel it mightl be today.” You stood, gingerly padding towards him, waving away his frown of concern. “Walking is good for me, it will help me with my labours.” He still frowned, meeting you halfway and squeezing you as tightly as he could without causing you pain. 

“I will be with you, at your side the whole time.” There was a small tremble in his voice you did not recognize, a nervous aura about him that seemed to bolster you. How curious, you thought, that his moment of fear, is my moment of courage. 

“The midwife and her attendants will be there, most men wait until the child is born–”

“I am not most men. I will be with you, holding your hand and wiping at your brow. This is a battle I cannot fight for you, but no one will keep me out of that room.” He pressed his face into your neck and you softened, his fear was justified. Many children did not survive their coming into the world, many mothers died alongside them. You said nothing, nodding softly as his fingers dug into your robes. 

The sun made its way across the sky and as it did your pains grew stronger. Cramps painful enough to steal your breath would squeeze at you like a fist for a few minutes before releasing you. The midwife walked with you, she took note of how much time passed between each attack, readying the birthing stool as well as her oils, her sponges and enough water and linens to be able to tend to both you and the baby. 

The sun was kissing the horizon when the water came, spilling all over your feet like a tidal wave and sending Marcus into a cold panic. 

The midwife did her examinations while your body ripped itself in two. With barely contained screams, and sweat dripping down your brow you got into position, doing your best to focus on your breathing while Marcus kept his word, silently wiping at your brow, and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you could. 

“It must be now, push.” The midwife and one of her girls were in place, moving your robes aside to have access and you did what you had to do. You pushed. 

It was agony. 

It was liquid fire burning its way through your body, this baby wasn’t being born, it was clawing and tearing its way out of you. 

Marcus whispered into your ear, encouragingly, lovingly, patiently guiding you to breathe, to not give up. He reminded you how strong you were, how loved and how soon it would be over. How could it be over soon? It felt as though this pain had been with you at your own birth, all of your life this pain has been here, it had to be. Hours, days? You could not tell how long it had been.

You cried, you begged for it to end, you willed it to be so; shouted and screamed that it hurt too much, that it was too hard and that you could not do it. You told them that the baby would not come, that you could not do this, you were not strong enough. You screamed that this would surely kill you, you would tear in two and die.

“You will not die, you can do this, my love. Bear down, and push.” His gaze was steely, focused and firm and it filled you with courage.

With a sob and a scream you pushed, and pushed. You pushed so much you thought you’d burst and then pushed more still. Until finally, blessedly, the baby came out.

“You have done it! You have done it my love, my beautiful, strong, courageous girl, you have done it!” Tears were in his eyes as he held onto your limp form, but he was not looking at you. 

“Why does the child not cry?” It felt like you’d drunk too much wine, the relief from the pain so great you would faint soon, yet still, silence. There was a lot of movement, a terrifying moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity and despite Marcus all but carrying you and laying you back to rest, no one met your eye. 

“Answer me, Marcus, why does the baby not cry? Give it to me! Is it a boy? Is it a girl?” Tears flowed and fear swelled like bile crawling up your throat until a cry loud enough to hurt your ears sounded and the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

“She is a beautiful, healthy and whole baby girl.” Swaddled and screaming, the bundle was placed at your breast. Marcus sobbed, openly and loudly into your shoulder, his big hand covering her tiny head while you looked at her in awe. She had so much hair, such strong lungs, such a force that you laughed, still crying. 

“Yes my little love, I know, you fought so hard.” You pressed a kiss to her little brow, doing your best to soothe her. 

She took to nursing your breast quickly, a good sign the midwife said and while she and her girls set everything to rights, you could focus on nothing but her. Her little hands clutched at you, taking a few greedy pulls before falling asleep, milk smeared all over her perfect face. 

“She is utterly perfect, she has your hands.” Marcus lay beside you, his gaze on her as though entranced. 

“She has your hunger.” You smiled, the euphoria eclipsing everything. It was so hard to stay awake though, the birth had taken so much out of you. 

“Give her to me and rest. I will be here with you.” With gentle hands, he took her, managing to put her onto his chest without waking her and before he’d even fully settled, sleep had claimed you. 

-

She had fought, both of them had. 

His girls had battled, fought tooth and nail and had come through victorious, though his love had paid a price. She’d bled, bled enough that it had frightened him, chilled him to the bone and when the midwife pulled him aside he already knew what she would say. There would be no more children, another birth might kill her. 

He mourned the fact that his daughter would have no siblings, no other children to fill this house alongside her but his wife would live. That was all that mattered. 

He watched her as she slept, glowing still, if a little wan, weakened by her labours but beautiful all the same. He could no longer imagine living this life without her, he could not see the joy in anything without her there beside him and now his daughter held the other half of his heart. She was the fruit of their union, she was the parts of them that would live on, the living embodiment of his good fortune and just the sight of her filled his eyes with tears. 

He pressed his lips to her little brow, smiling at the furrow in them when he jostled her, so like her mother it made him cry all the harder. 

This was all that mattered, his entire world was in this bed and he was loath to ever be separated from them again.

He didn’t know which name to call her, they’d never settled on anything. Acacia didn’t seem right, how could he name her after himself when she so resembled her mother already? Aurelia, that was pretty, Diana too. He would wait though, let her have the last say. He basked in the glow of the candles, in the comfort of his wife’s warm weight beside him, in the small weight at his chest and said another silent prayer in thanks.

-

She was so big already, three whole months and her growth never ceased to amaze you. She still looked tiny in her fathers arms, his broadness compared to her small body always made you smile, especially because for her he was less the brutal Roman General, and more of a soft, lump of honey. She ruled him implicitly, her every cry, her every happy sound was the reason he breathed.

“My love, I need to change her, those little robes are covered in milk.” There was no bite in your words, there could be no anger or annoyance in you at his adoration of her.

“Yes, yes you are right, she must be changed.” He smiled, bringing her to you. She was tired, yawning and fussing, fighting off her midday slumber with a fierceness that made you laugh. 

“Yes yes I know Diana, one moment and then your father will rock you.” You cooed at her, making quick work of the change and taking the opportunity to wipe her down with a damp cloth before returning her where she slept the best, her fathers chest.

Once he took her and sat at his favoured chair, she was out, little fist curled under her chin. This was his favourite, and yours. Watching her sleep peacefully, safe and loved within your arms, or his. 

“I never grow tired of studying her, already her little face is changing.”

He pressed his lips to her head, breathing in the clean, baby milk smell of her. 

“She will have your hair, already it curls when I wash it.” You thread your fingers through the fine wisps of it softly, smiling to imagine her older with curls flowing down her back. 

“She has your look, your look exactly. I am still in awe that we have created something so perfect.” His hand took yours and brought it to his lips, you bent to press yours to his forehead. 

“As am I, how blessed we are to have her, to have each other.” 

-

When he slipped into bed, you pressed your fingers to your lips, eyes wide to warn him.

“She is finally asleep, we must not wake her.” Your whisper was frantic, and he nodded.

“Yes my lady, I will be silent as the grave.” He pulled you close, whispering in your ear before pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. 

“So long as you can keep your voice down when I love you.” His hands pawed at you but you were so tired, it was hard to reconcile the intense want for him, with the ache of the day settling heavy on your bones. 

“My love, my mind desires this, but my body is so tired.” You pouted at him, mildly upset to deny him.

“Shall I use my mouth? You can lay back and relax, I can take care of you—my lovely girl deserves pleasure, and rest.” He smiled, undeterred and you could not help but smile. 

“And it does not bother you that I will just lay here? Most likely asleep before you have come up for air?” His grey waves were so soft when you raked your fingers through them. 

“It pleases me to please you, you are the mother of my child and the love of my life, I would do anything for you.” He kissed your fingers before spreading your legs wide with the breadth of his shoulders. “Do you wish for me to stop?” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and then the soft patch of hair at your mound, before kissing the lips of your sex. 

“No, I do not wish for you to stop.” You spread your legs a little wider and his smile grew bigger, letting a big glob of his own spit fall onto your sex before chasing it with his tongue.

He is focused, honed in with his gaze and with his tongue on your clit, flat wide licks from where your arousal drips up to the bundle of nerves and it’s like a spike of arousal pierced the very heart of you every time he swiped his tongue over it. Warm, wet and perfect, he swirled around it in time with your heartbeat, fanning the embers burning in your belly for him. 

The fingers that softly scratched at his scalp, now curled into the waves holding him in place as you struggled to keep your mouth shut, but he made it so difficult. The ache building as his brow creased with concentration and his own excitement. His own hand crept down and grasped his cock, stroking at it in time with the delicious circuit of his tongue. That he gained so much pleasure from this only heightened your own, and soon the knot tightened. 

Muscles clenched, all of your body a taut string waiting to snap with every pass, every strong lick. You pinched at a nipple, pulling his eyes up to find yours and he let out a low groan, the vibration of it pushed you over the edge with a silent gasp, and empty rhythmic clenches around nothing. He bestowed a final, filthy kiss to your overstimulated clit before moving quickly to get into position. With the shine of exertion glinting on his golden skin he knelt between your legs, pumping at himself furiously before silently, violently spilling onto your still fluttering sex. Hot, milky splashes of him covering it while he gripped at your thigh hard enough to bruise.

He caught his breath, smearing himself in his own mess between your legs past the point of discomfort. He was so beautiful like this, with the flush of passion lighting up his cheeks and his ears, spreading down his chest. 

He smiled, winking at you before he grabbed the cloth from the basin and cleansing the mess he had made. You wanted to hold and be held by him, but by the time he was done, you were already asleep.

-

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[prideprejudce]

I think alot more people would enjoy the show if they learned to see Rhaenyra and Alicent as Unreliable Narrators, and characters who are supposed to have glaring flaws and weaknesses.

Mandatory preface- There are Issues™️ with season 2 that are its own other ask- but the complaints ive seen about character assassination on both women kind of tells me ppl just wanted to see the two just GirlBossing around, not being tragic characters trapped in their own circumstances.

For Alicent specifically- she just isn't written to be Cersei 2.0, and while it was really interesting to see motherhood from cersei's point of view, its already been done!! I actually prefer seeing Alicent's mercurial clinging to and abandoning motherhood- its interesting!! She was made a mother at what- 15? An age where you truly arent mentally developed enough to raise 3 kids, AND be a child bride, AND be a queen, (AND be a lesbian).

Alicent is interesting to me because she's stunted at 15 years old, she's an adult woman who talks to and sometimes bullies her kids as if they are her peers, and is obsessed with her childhood crush(es). She hasn't built any new relationships* past the ones she was entangled with as a teenager, she's obsessed with both acting out to make SOMEONE see that shes suffering, (she's honestly pretty blatant for someone who prides themselves on being the Temperate Voice of Reason) but also to erase herself and reset to before she had to marry the king, before aemma died.

I think most of her 'bad out of character' decisions are just these two impulses winning out, her trying to force a reset, go back to a time where none of this had happened yet, when things were simpler and she had love and every day wasn't the worst day of her life™️.

She sleeps with cole, the man she thought was pretty at 15 (her last uncomplicated attraction just before it all went wrong and aemma died) -she doesnt seem to like it that much, but she does seem compelled to seek him out, esp when upset- shes obsessed with, and desperate to reconnect with Rhaenyra, her childhood best friend (and first love) and get back to where they were as kids, AND she still treats and asks her father for absolution as if he's still the only authority that matters to her just like she did at 15. Alot of her 'victim complex/bewildered they took it so far' behaviour in the plotting of rhaenyra's usurption reads to me like a teenager in over her head, she talked big game and now its real and shes panicking!! She's tragic BECAUSE she's still a teenager- so stunted shes unable to meaningfully grow up and learn to make healthier choices for herself, or move on and stop trying to grasp at the 'if i could just go back' urge.

As a mother, I think this creates an interesting dynamic as well, and I do like that in the casting even, she seems closer in age to her kids than rhaenyra does to hers. I think the contrast ppl are drawing with Alicent Protecting Her Kids in season1 compared to her giving them up in season two isn't bad writing to me, just massive differences in context. Sure she protected Aemond in driftmark, but we cant ignore that she probably felt humiliated by her husband choosing rhaenyra's side over hers in front of everyone, did it seem like a grown woman fighting for her son?? or a teenager furious with her ex winning one over her again? or both!! both sides twisted together is still interesting! When she protected Aegon from Rhaenys, is stepping in front of her son the king to protect him from the enemies dragon fire not the most romantic daydream of a deserving death a child bride could come up with?? Was it the impulse to protect the son she couldnt decide if she loved or hated, or was it to have the most heroic death possible to escape the reality that she sees coming. And if Rhaenyra hears about how Brave she was in the face of a dragons maw, and cries about it forever and feels sooo bad and regrets it til the day she dies, thats an added bonus. I think Alicent loves her kids, but is teenager selfish about HOW she loves and protects her kids, and is unable to be a mature, consistant, protective mother to them when she also sees them as having ruined her life. I think in season 2 when she 'gives them up' shes relieved, and once again following the compulsion of 'if i reset to when Rhaenyra was heir, i had no sons, and i wasn't married or queen, everything will be better'. I think theres complexity to it, i think she does love her sons and feels insane about it, but I think Alicent has been trying to Go Back in more and more Intense ways ever since she got married, and we might be giving her sanity more credit than it deserves when it comes to the need to wipe the board clean and go back to being 15.

hey anon are you trying to get married to me or what

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 10)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies

WORD COUNT: 982 words

series masterlist

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”

“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”

“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”

“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

“There is only one way to make a child.”

Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”

“You asked for my hand.”

“Her Grace offered me your hand.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.

“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”

“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.

“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”

“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.

“At least he won’t be alone.”

You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

“Enter.”

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.

“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.

“No.”

“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”

“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”

Gods he really is decent.

“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.

“Old Valyria.”

“You would die.”

“I would.”

“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”

He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”

“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”

“Hmm… almost any it seems.”

Comment to be added to taglist

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Politics: knight!price x princess!reader

You were unusually quiet today.

Price watched you carefully from where he stood just a couple paces from the river bank where you sat. He didn’t get too close to you as he studied you carefully.

You had run off again and unlike all the other times he hadn’t been able to catch you because he had been busy training the other knights.

“If you wanted to run away you should make it harder to find you.” Price had huffed at you as he approached you earlier.

You didn’t say anything for a moment snd that stopped him. You were always quick with your remarks, always quick with firing back something just a venomous but there was nothing.

Perhaps he had gone too far.

“I wanted to be alone.” You said without looking at him, your eyes glued to the water.

“A princess is never alone, your highness.”

“I suppose not.”

Since then neither of you said anything to each other. You sat on the river bank for a long time, your hands perfectly poised in your lap while you watch the current of the river run further down into the nearby forest and into the fields.

Price knew you like the river and the forest when you wanted time to be alone. He suspected you ran out here when you were overwhelmed or when you were upset, so as he watched you he wondered what brought this along.

Trouble with diplomacy? With your studies or with the court? Perhaps you were still mad at him for the joust a couple weeks ago or maybe something truly was going on between you and Lady Katherine.

He wondered and wondered, his eyes never leaving your elegant form. Even as they trailed over your hair and the way your dress hugged your body he wondered: could he fix whatever made you upset?

“The Queen has found me a suitor.” Your voice was somber and his face fell. “In a few months I’ll be wed and will leave for his kingdom.”

A king. You were going to marry a king.

Price gripped the hilt of his sword and his eyes narrowed. Why wasn’t he informed? The Queen’s judgment trumped all but she hadn’t asked him to visit the kingdom and its king first, to understand who the man was and if he was truly suited for you.

For all he knew, the king could be an incompetent leader who would be putting you in danger.

He should be happy. He would be rid of you, he wouldn’t have to constantly run after you while you made his job infinitely harder and he wouldn’t have to constantly be under your scrutiny.

But instead he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Some other knight would become your bodyguard because even as Queen consort you would find time to run off into places alone that you shouldn’t. He didn’t have any faith that they would be able to keep you safe if they needed to.

He’d have to say goodbye to you and though he supposedly hated you he didn’t want to.

Price was your knight and you were his princess. That was the way things were so supposed to be.

But what say did he have in it? He was a knight and though he owned land he was not a noble by birth. He may be the best in all the kingdom and be the most reliable but he was a soldier, not a diplomat.

He had no choice but to watch you be married off, just as you had no choice but to be married.

He couldn’t imagine what was going on in your head. He’s not sure he ever heard you being interested in any of the suitors the Queen had often mentioned, even if you called them handsome and even if they were nice.

He’s not sure why but he knew he would never found out.

Price cleared his throat and swayed on his feet.

“Would you like to stay out here all day then, your highness?” He asked softer, pushing away the mix of emotions inside him.

“I’ll return soon.” You said almost disconnected from the conversation. “I’d like to wait here for a moment longer.”

Price couldn’t stand the distant look in your eyes, the eyes that usually held some twinkle of life within them even when you often looked at him with distain, and hated that for weeks now you had been so upset.

He couldn’t fight your thoughts, he couldn’t strike them with his blade or shoot them with an arrow. He couldn’t intimidate them or command that they leave you alone. He couldn’t help you in any way that mattered, not that you would accept it from him of all people, even if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

A/n: still trying to figure out who fell first and who fell harder (want it to be reader fell first and price fell harder but we’ll see. They don’t know what they’re feeling are yet still)

Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! I love your blog so much. I'm literally obsessed! I've wanted sub aemond content for so long and your account is like an oasis in the desert.

I was thinking about aemond and how for so long he felt unwanted and unloved, like he didn't have a place among his family. Because of this I think he'd really like reader telling him "Your mine", even more so than being told "im yours". Not in a aggressive or possessive way (although I do think he'd like reader being protective of him) but in the sense that someone loves him so much that they would openly claim him as theirs. That they aren't ashamed of him or for others to know he's all theirs.

I also think it provides him some sense of security. Like he feels so safe knowing he belongs to you so he doesn't have to worry about anyone else.

Idk if this makes sense, hopefully it does😭I just can't stop thinking about this, I've had it on my mind for a while now.

Oh my god I love this!!! This is so perfect everything you wrote here is incredible.

There’s nothing explicit in my answer but it is very clearly sub!Aemond and has some suggestive tones so I’ll hide it under the cut just in case :))

So I think Aemond really struggles with the idea of being anyone’s first choice? He grew up as a second son, always teased and mocked and never taken seriously. He didn’t expect you to be any different.

The first thing you do that really shows Aemond how much you care for him is just how loyal you are? I’m thinking of a situation where you and your family are at the red keep to look for a husband for you, and obviously your family are trying their hardest to secure an betrothal from Aegon because he’s king.

But then Aemond catches your eye? You end up having a very simple conversations with him, and you know pretty much instantly that he’s the one you want. Aemond wants you too of course. He hasn’t felt this accepted in his life and he absolutely loves talking with you. You and him sit together at the far end of the table every dinner, taking amongst yourselves and Aemond doesn’t even acknowledge anyone else. He takes every scrap of your attention that he can, especially because he’s so certain that your parents are angling for Aegon and that once the betrothal is announced he won’t be able to spend time with you like this again.

You put a spanner in the works. After a few weeks at the red keep you tell your family in no uncertain terms that you want Aemond and Aemond only. Your family is hesitant, both because Aemond is the second son and because Aemond is known to be violent and cold.

But you insist.

When your parents go to Aemond to tell him that you have expressed your desire to marry him instead of Aegon, the poor lad just about feints. He says he would be honoured of course, and then the moment they leave he’s sprinting across the castle to your quarters.

You’re confused to see him knocking on your door. You know you shouldn’t open the door because people might see and rumours may start but you couldn’t care less. He is here, so you will let him in.

At first you actually think he looks upset? When you ask what’s going on he just softly asks, “Do you really want me? Did you mean it when you told your parents I was your first choice?”

You don’t even get to finish the word “yes” before he’s barrelling forwards and pulling you into a tight hug. He buries his head in your shoulder and clings to you. He’s so overwhelmed to hear that someone actually chooses him, never mind it being someone he already wishes he could marry.

You hug him back of course, and then when you try to pull away he just grips you tighter. It's like he's afraid if he lets go of you that you'll disappear. You end up having to just rub his back and whisper that you mean it, that you aren't going anywhere.

Aemond truly doesn’t even know what to do with himself when you tell him that you never even considered Aegon, from the moment you saw him no one else came close.

This is definitely where the possessiveness comes in, because there’d be a period between expressing this and actually having the betrothal ironed out and announced.

Until then, all the other male suiters try to get your attention and win your love and it drives Aemond absolutely insane. You actually have to watch him very closely or else he will lure a suitor into the gardens and kill them. He’s threatens to plenty of times.

A big part of this possessive comes from the fact that he honestly is just waiting for the other shoe to drop? He’s so certain that one day you'll wake up and realise what a terrible decision you've made and beg for the betrothal to be canceled.

So every time you talk to another man, he's so so convinced you'll prefer them and tell him that you don't want him anymore. Which is why he absolutely hates seeing you with other people because he thinks every time he's losing his chance.

And so every time you walk back to him and tell him that you can't wait for your parents to officially announce the betrothal he nearly starts crying. He's watching you choose him over and over again and he truly cannot believe it.

As much as he's very traditional and respectful, I think he kinda just falls apart when faced with the fact that you genuinely want him? He tell himself he'll do this the right way, the way that's expected of him but he can't control himself when he's faced with the reality that you actually genuinely want him.

I don't think you two would be able to wait until marriage for that exact reason. He cannot stand the thought of another even considering being with you and honestly he can't even sleep thinking about it.

He ends up knocking on your door most nights and spending hours with you. He can't get enough of you, and he especially can't get enough of hearing you say you love him and want him. How could he ever be expected to spend the night alone knowing that a few floors down there's a woman he absolutely adores who will open her door and let him cuddle her and hear about her day?

He cannot be expected to spend the nights alone and to watch you speak to others and to wait patiently until the betrothal is announced. He never expected to find someone who makes him feel loved and safe and now that he has found you he will never ever let you go.

[chloe-skywalker]

Give Them A Chance - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 1,362

Summary: Robb and Y/n don’t know that their fathers plan to betroth them. But Ned has a reason for not telling. Will his reason work?

Authors Note: Takes place in like the first episode of season 1 Game Of Thrones. Like right after the whole “You got fat” lines.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Y/n watched the exchange between her father and his friend Ned Stark Warden of the North. It was very odd but she thought it was nice that they were such good friends that they still joked around with each other. She didn’t see her father act so freely like this often. It was a rare welcome sight.

“So I take it this is your oldest.” King Robert sighed looking at the eldest of Ned’s children with a scrutinizing gaze before breaking out into a smile.

“Yes, this is Robb.” Ned introduced his oldest son to his friend.

Robert slapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder, smiling widely. “You're a handsome young lad.”

Robb tried to contain his blushing that he was sure he was doing. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“You should meet my oldest. Y/n!” Robert called over his oldest daughter, but not before sparing a knowing glance to Ned. As Y/n came to stand next to her father, smiling politely at the Stark family before her. “This is my oldest. A year younger than you I believe.”

“Princess.” Robb bowed, before looking at the princess. She had caught his eye when she first entered Winterfell on horse back alongside her uncle. He could not deny she was gorgeous, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had started to fall for her.

“Mi’ Lord.” Y/n curtised, biting her cheek. Thus Robb Stark was by far one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. And she had seen a lot of people growing up in KingsLanding. She wondered if his personality was as nice as his looks.

“Would you like a tour of  Winterfell?” Robb asked, offering a way for them to talk and get to know each other a bit. He also was one of the most qualified people to show her around.

“I would love one.” She smiled. Looping her arm through his and the two young adults that in some ways are still kids went off exploring.

While the two went off getting to know each other and everyone else did God knows what, King Robert and Net Stark headed down to the crypts.

“Have you told your son?” Robert asked once they were done talking about Ned’s sister. The King was curious if his friend's son had offered to show his daughter around on his own or out of duty.

“Not yet.” Nod squinted, he didn’t like the idea of taking this choice from his son. But the other part, this was a good alliance, and you don’t deny a king.

“And why not?” Robert had told Ned of the idea to marry their oldest months ago. But to be fair he didn’t tell his daughter either.

“Because I wanted to give them a chance to fall in love before knowing they might be betrothed.” Ned explained his reasonsings, and even though Robert would never admit it he admired Ned’s heart and how he was trying to make this a better situation for their children. It was better than just throwing them together.

“Very well. I didn’t tell my daughter either. She would’ve fought me on coming.” He chuckled. Y/n would’ve tried to fight him or talk him out of it, and it might’ve worked even the slightest. Out of all his children she was the only one that had a somewhat relationship with him.

“They’d be more reluctant if they knew about what we had planned. The two of them being in the dark might lead to them actually gaining feelings for the other.” Ned just hoped that the two would get close and at least see they could make a marriage work. But he was truly hoping that maybe they could fall in love on their own and there wouldn’t be any hard feelings or reluctantness.

^     ^     ^

It had been a few weeks and things seemed to be working out for Y/n and Robb like Ned had hopped. Y/n seemed to fit right into the Stark family. She got along with all his children and they all act as if she’s one of them. Things between Robb and Y/n had taken some people by surprise. The two had been spending almost all their time together. They only separated to sleep it seemed like.

Ned was happy to see they had a lot in common. The two went horseback riding constantly and Y/n seemed to know how to use a bow and a sword no doubt thanks to her uncle. They didn’t even eat apart at meals.

Today Robb and Y/n had gone out riding, once they were far enough away from Winterfell the two dismounted their respective horses walking along next to each other.

“Are you having a good time in Winterfell Princess Y/n?” Robb asked, hoping that the time they’d spent together had been as enjoyable for her as it was for him.

Y/n smiled, nudging him teasingly shoulder to shoulder. “Yes, I am as matter of fact. My favorite part is the company.”

Robb blushed looking down before looking back to her. Robb had no idea why she could so easily make him react like that, but she could and he didn’t mind it. “You flatter me y/n.”

“You’ve been flattering me the whole time I’ve been here. It’s only fair.” Y/n smiled. As they came to the set of trees that they had made their spot over the time she had been in the North.

Robb just stood there watching her for a moment. He never expected to fall in love with her when he first found out the King, Queen, and their children were coming to visit. But he had and he didn’t regret it. “If I may be bold and speak my mind, Princess?”

Y/n nodded, smiling back at him as she turned to face him. She noticed how he wasn’t right next to her and Y/n wondered what had made him stop and if it had to do with what was on his mind. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

“During your time here in Winterfell I have become quite taken with you.” Robb stated walking over to her. He looked in her eye’s trying to notice how his works were being taken.

“And I you.” Y/n blushed, biting her lip at her response back to him admitting his feelings for her. Which she reciprocates.

“I have a proposal for you Princess Y/n Baratheon.” Robb felt an air of convenience hit him at Y/n admitting she feels the same.

Y/n furrowed her brow, it confused her on why he was using her title and first and last name. “Go on Lord Stark.”

Robb took a deep breath, he knew what he wanted he just hoped she wanted it to. “We may not have known each other for very long or very well for the most part. But I would like for us to get to know each other better over time. If you’d like that of course.”

“I would.” Y/n nodded liking where he was going with this so far.

“Would you  also like it if we could become husband and wife, Lord and Lady.” Robb stepped right up to her, reaching out to intertwine their hands. Looking into her eye’s Robb reached up with one hand leaving the other one still in hers, he cupped the side of her face, “Would you do me the great honor and become my wife? For all my days till the end of my days?”

Y/n reached up with her free hand and cupped the back of his neck, while squeezing his hand holding hers. Looking up into his eyes with what could only be happiness and adoration Y/n answered. “I would love to.”

In her short time visiting the North Y/n had really connected with the Starks and of course Robb the most. Yes, she’d miss her siblings (minus Joffrey) and she'd miss her uncles but this felt like the better place for her. And as long as she has Robb, Y/n will always be happy.

Taglist; @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[gd-dollopole]

“In life, you always have a choice. Sometimes, it’s easier to think that you don’t.”

“I don’t want to be brave. I just want to be myself.”

“Some lives have been foretold, Merlin. Take heart, for when Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.”

“There is not right or wrong. Only what is and what isn’t.”

“An half cannot hate what truly makes it whole.”

“No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny.”

“I’m happy to be your servant, until the day I die.”

“Sometimes, you have to do what is right and damn the consequences!”

“You’re a son of the earth, the sea, the sky. Magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic. You are magic itself.”

“Everything here—is so full of life. Every tree, every leaf, every insect. It’s as if the world is… Vibrating. As if everything is much more than itself.”

“I don’t want you to change. I want you, to always—be you.”

“Until then, we go unmarked in death as in life.”

“You’re wrong. Don’t think I don’t understand loyalty just because I’ve got no one left to be loyal to.”

“You’re like two sides of the same coin.”

And in the same show, you’ve got an episode where the entire castle suffers from flatulence, Uther goes bald, the court physician slaps the king across the aforementioned bald head, more than once, while being possessed by a Goblin, the prince Arthur Pendragon gets donkey ears and brays, and another one when Uther, none other than the King of Camelot, marries a Troll.

The duality.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (4)

IV. It is you

MASTERLIST

Summary: Pressures makes wind, earthquakes, and marriages

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.8 k 

Notes: I don;t think this is going to be a love story, this is about politics, and a truly arranged marriage, their relationship will develop of course, but I just wanted to get that out there

“You have done a great job with her”, Cregan raised his eyes to encounter the mythical Jeyne Arryn, cousin to the late Queen Aemma, keeper of the East, Lady of the Eyrie, they both contemplated you as you sat the Iron Throne and gave audiences

“I have done nothing, it’s all her”, he said severely

“You are good with her, for her”, she said then, looking at him with her piercing blue eyes

“I know what you are implying…”

“She needs a husband”, she said

“You should stay here in court, as her hand when I leave”, he said almost at the same time

“You can’t leave her”

“I have to, I have a child…”

“She needs you, the realm needs you”

“The North needs me, she will be fine”

“You know that is not true, she is still too young to differ allies from foes”

“She will learn”

“At the cost of the realms”, Cregan Stark looked at her severely, but he had met her equal, this woman was not going to back down

“What about my son? What about my people? How is that going to work?”, he asked then

“You can come and go”

“A year at a time”

“Maybe”, she said. The small council had been relentless, just as Jeyne was being 

His name was in that alliance

He pledged to take you to wife, you, in name, regardless of who you had become… you were his betrothed. And it’s not like he gave his word lightly, only, like he said, he need a wife and a lady of Winterfell, he did not want to become the King consort of the Seven Kingdoms, he did not want to take care of you… forever…

But he had taken the capital for you

Yes he promised your mother…

But he had done it for you, an unknown princess, on his mind

He found himself looking straight at you

Like the first time he saw you, he thought, again, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Since he took the capital, color had returned to your face, you no longer had darkness under your eyes, your cheeks were fuller, you also filled your dresses more, meaning you were eating more, sleeping longer…

You were better

His eyes then trailed over all the faces of the Lords gathered there in the throne room, lickspittles, asskissers, many of them, without honor, just hunger for power and gold

Did he really care for what happens to the people of the other six Kingdoms? Were you really in danger? Kings had been surrounded by traitors all their lives and nothing major had happened…

Well… until Otto fucking Hightower

No, he couldn’t let that happen again

He thought he only wanted to bring justice to the traitors, but it wasn’t true, he cared about what happened

He cared about what happens to you…

The realization made him shift on his feet

He cared about you 

He did not want you to get married to someone who was going to please the small council and take your place eventually, who was going to manipulate you or worse

He didn’t want you married to someone who…

No… he just didn’t want you married to anyone else… that’s it

The bare thought made him shiver

You felt yourself being watched intensely, and found Cregan Stark’s eyes

You felt your cheeks heated, as you looked away like a little girl who had been caught doing something silly 

You were only a young woman, barely turned eight and ten name days

And Cregan was only a young man who had the power of the biggest country in the seven kingdoms and wanted to use it to avenge his Queen

He was himself impulsive, reckless even, maybe the rest saw him like the greatest choice, but he knew the truth

He wasn’t

What if he tipped you off a ledge? What if he sets you off resulting in the destruction of cities and the annihilation of thousands?

And yet…. He was the only one you trusted

Months on the road, maybe years away from you, years away from his home, his child… There must always be a Stark in Winterfell

But when he leaves you to be in Winterfell, he was going to wish he was in King’s Landing, and when he is here, he wishes he could be in Winterfell, he was already missing it, he wanted to see his son, his five year old son, he had left him in good hands, with his loving half sister, and trusted friends and servants… but still

He was so small, he had it when he was so young, the only thing he had left of his dear friend Arra

If he married you… if…

He was going to give you children, his child, second child, was going to sit the Iron Throne one day… and his oldest was going to be Lord of Winterfell

That was… enticing, to say the least

Too good to be true….

Having children with you, a thought that enticed and scared him in equal measure

A child of Ice and Fire, a child who was going to be a Northerner by blood and a dragon rider as well…

He shifted on his feet again

He wanted it

And he could pretend he had a choice all he wanted, but he didn’t… he had signed the pact… the woman… the Queen seated in the Iron Throne…

Was his betrothed

It didn’t have to be two months, a week long boat ride to White harbor and another week on the road and he could be home quickly…

It had to work

Did you want this?

He gave you the service of ending the courts early, and then you abandoned the throne room.

But before he could reach you, he was intercepted by Celtigar

“I need to talk to you”, he said, Cregan only nodded as they walked together to a hallway of the Keep which seemed to be empty

“What is it?” He asked, his patience long gone

“I can marry her”, he said quickly

Cregan stopped in his tracks, and frowned

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked when he saw his face

“yes, but…”

“I can get you out of the pact… if she is the one to accept”

He should be relieved, he should have said yes immediately, but the thought of you marrying someone else… he didn’t like it.

Not that he didn’t trust his friend, he did, he was the best choice according to him, the day before he had offered himself, the thing is… he had changed in the last 24 hours… 

He wanted it, you, the seat at your side, the children you were going to give him…

But he wouldn’t even accept it himself, this was deep inside of him, he wanted to protect you, none of those southerners had what it took, only him, he didn’t trust anyone else, not really 

Only him…

“My name is in those papers”, he growled

“But perhaps if I speak to her, began to court her…”

“I’ll talk to her”, he cut him 

“I really think I should be the one…”, with only one look Cregan makes his friend stop speaking. He had just realized what he truly wanted to do, and he did not need to be contradicted now. “You are marrying her, aren’t you?”, he said, a smile sneaking on his friend’s face

“I don’t know yet, I don’t want to pressure her”, Celtigar only hummed

“I want to marry her too”, he said then. Cregan looked at his friend and he understood him, he was challenging him…

“May the best man win her affections then”, Cregan said.

He was not going to lose

And as he walked away Celtigar only smiled, having pushed his friend in the right direction by only pretending to want your hand in marriage

Cregan had asked Lord Redwyne for help and together they had set you up with young ladies, that shared your age, your ladies in waiting as it were. But instead he found you alone in the Red Keep garden, walking and escorted by one of your white cloaks

“What happened with your ladies in waiting?”, he asked point blank as he approached you, the lack of property, referring to you not as “your grace”, and it made your guard almost wince  

“I send them on their way”, you said simply, leaning in to smell a beautiful flower, barely acknowledging him

“I don’t want you to be lonely”, he said gently, you raised your eyes to look at him 

“yes, I know but they are so… vain… “this lord looked at me”, or “have you seen the dress she was wearing…”, Cregan only smiled condescendingly at you, “and I…”

“You are thinking about the wellness of millions”, he said, “concerned about the future of the entire realm, I understand”

“I understand the need to be distracted for a while, but…”, he only nodded

“I understand”, he said shortly

“Why are you here?”, you asked, nervous, he didn’t understand the change in your dynamic, you had felt confident and calm enough to cry in front of him, but now you were evading his gaze, and shifting in your feet in nerves

In your mind was a bit more clearer

You realized you liked him, you found yourself feeling butterflies in your belly when you saw his handsome face, and you wanted to punch yourself, for being so childish, you were not a young girl in front of her knight in shining armor, you were a Queen now, he was your hand, your advisor, and the head of one of the most important houses on the entire realm.

But you felt your legs shake, and your breath caught in your throat every time you saw him approach you

And every time he was near, you wanted him to stay near you, you felt your chest strangle your heart each time he walked away from you.

Gods this was strange even for you

“I want to ask you something”, he said slowly, you looked at him then, concerned 

“You are leaving”, you said.

You were not an idiot, you knew he had a son, he was the Lord of Winterfell, he needed to rule his home. You couldn’t expect of him to stay here forever 

That took him by surprise

“No”, he said softly

“But you have to go one day, don’t you?”

“That is what I wanted to talk about”, he said softly, your attention was on him then, you tried to pull on those dark feelings that would make you mad at him when he did decided to leave, he could not see that wide-eyed little girl who had a crush on him, not now, and you will not beg when he tells you it was going to be time for him to return home…

“... the marriage offers”, you were lost for a second but that certainly brought you back to attention

“Uh?”, you asked

“You had been offered several hands of many lords over these past few days”

“Did the small council put you up to this?”, you asked, bored

“You need to get married”, he said severely, “we need to make your family strong again, you need to settle your line…”

“I understand”, you said, looking down. You knew he had signed a pact to marry you, but you also did not want to hold him to it, there were different times, it was naive for you to think he was going to hold up his part, he had done enough already 

“A marriage is also an alliance”, he continued, “you need someone who will help you and guide you, but not manipulate you…”

You only nodded

“A strong person, with a powerful family name…”

“If you say Tyland Lannister I swear…”, he chuckled, and shook his head

“No…”, he said. He then stopped all his movements, you felt his gaze on you, so you stopped as well and raised your head and eyes to look at him, “who do you want?”, he asked then

“I’m not sure”, you said, but you did… you wanted him

For the doubt in your mind made him question his own decision. He thought you were going to name him, but you were truly doubtful

You didn’t think he was an option

“I don’t know any of those men”, you said then in a whisper 

“You know some…”, he tried, you looked at him

He felt even guilty for wanting it

He gave in to his deepest desire, of power and lust.

“Yes you are right”, you whispered, looking away from him again, “I just…. need to think this through”, you said with a low voice, you wanted to end this chat

But he didn’t, he needed you to say it

He had heard the small council ask him to, he had heard Lady Jayne Arryn… but he needed to hear it from you.

“There must be someone in your mind”, he said softly, with a gentle, soothing voice

“There was”, you admitted

“Talk to me, I’m your hand”, he continued, “I am here to advice you”

“Until you leave me”, you say then, without thinking, it was barely a whisper

So that’s it, he thought, you resented him for even the mere thought of him abandoning you

“I can come back”, he said then, with a hint of amusement on his voice 

You only hummed, you didn’t believe him, and you were going to feel terribly lost without him, again, alone, like you had been before he saved you…. before he took the city in your name and put you on the throne

He did all of that

There was nobody else you wanted by your side but him

You shared a longing look, a long gaze

What did he want? you asked yourself. He looked like he wanted to listen to you but also to speak, at the same time. You didn’t know what else to say

“What does that mean?”, you asked then. He sighed, loudly

“I signed a pact…”, he said

“Yes, my brother offered my hand in marriage in exchange for your allegiance and your swords”, you said lowly

“No”, he answered back, you looked at him intently, “he asked for my loyalty, he had it already, but he negotiated our union for the simple fact he was scared of something befalling you, he wanted to send you North under my protection to keep you safe from harm, from the war, and from the Greens”

Ah yes, safe from Aemond and Aegon

“That sounds like my brother”, you said, melancholy tainting your voice 

“He wanted to keep you safe”

“In more than one way you had kept your promise”, you assured him, “you took the city, took control…”

“I did”, he said softly, “for you”

“You are going to put a crown in my head”, you said

“In three days”, he said then, “and then you should announced your betrothal”

“I don’t have one”

“You do”, he said finally, his eyes, piercing eyes bore into yours, he dwarfed you in size, and even though he had left his fur cloak behind… he still look big and imposing

“Cregan…”, you called

“Say it”, he encouraged 

“You signed the pact…”, you said.

As you looked at him, you grew angry

What did he want from you? to beg? you didn’t even know. He had signed that past, to marry you one day, and yet, he dodged that part at every turn, he needed to return home, you understood that he had a son, a little boy who needed his father, so why was he here? talking to you in this way? 

“You promised to marry me”, you said softly, he barely nodded, his eyes looking intently at you, “but I understand…”, he frowned then, and you started walking away from him. Letting him standing in the garden

You called in a small council meeting, on your own accord

They were right, you needed to make your family bigger and stronger…

“I called in this meeting because I have to make a demand”, you said firmly, your small council looking amongst each other, Cregan was silent, playing with the dragon eye in front of him

“Tomorrow the Barahteon will present themselves to me, and I want to tell you my intentions so you’ll be prepared”, you said firmly, “It is to my understanding that princess Jahaera, daughter of Aegon the Usurper, is still in Storm’s End…”

“As a guest”, said lord Lannister

“As a hostage”, you said then, “It is to my understanding that she was on her way here, when Aegon was poisoned”, you said softly, “I know because it was discussed at the dinner table in front of me, yet, she is not here, I understand they are trying to keep her safe as some sort of leverage, but…”, you continued, and then you soften your gaze, “I want her here, she is a little girl, a Targaryen, daughter to my lovely aunt Helaena, and she should be with me and Aegon, with family”, you said softly

“Your grace is most graceful”, muttered the Maester, the others murmured their affirmations

“Tomorrow I will demand of the Baratheons to bring little Jahaera back to me, when she is here, we will betrothed her to Aegon, to finally solidify the family and end this madness”, yous aid with a soft smile

Aemond, Aegon, Alicent and Otto are and will burn in hell

But not Helaena and her children

She was an angel, so were the little boys that lost her lives

Jahaera was the only one left, you owe it to Helaena to keep her safe

After the affirmation and support of your small council, you walked towards your little brother’s chambers

He had become so quiet and sad, which was expected, but still, you tried to keep his mind busy, you would put Septas and maesters to teach him and accompany him, at all ours, soon, one of your King’s guards will teach him the art of the sword.

Now you make sure to sit and dine with him

Even though he barely spoke

“Jahaera will come to court soon”, you whispered to him as you served yourself a cup of wine

“Who was Jahaera?”, he asked innocently, of course he didn’t remember 

“Helaena’s child”, you said, “she is your age, you can have fun together”

“Oh”, it's the only thing he said, while continue to have little pieces of bread and meat 

“Maybe one day you can get married”, you said lightly

“When are you getting married?”, he asked then and made you laugh

“Soon, but I don’t know with whom!”, you said as it was a joke, it was sad that it was true

“Marry Cregan”, he said simply

“WHy?”, you asked him, amazed

“I see the way he looks at you”, he said simply

“How does he look at me?”, you asked him

“As papa looked at mama”, he said, and you got quiet

“He has to go back North”, yous aid lightly

“You can command him to stay, you are the Queen”, he said, still not looking at you

“If I only command without listening to reason I’m a Tyrant”, you said softly, “not a queen”

“He wants to stay”, he said

“I don’t know if he does, you know Northerners don’t fare well here in the south”, you joked 

“Command him”, he insisted

“Aren’t you a little tyrant?”, you teased, reaching over the table and tickling his side until he squealed in a laugh

But gods if that made you think…

“He looks at you they way papa looked at mama”

Daemon Targaryen wasn’t much of a communicative man, he didn’t need to speak, it was all in his eyes…

He could make men tremble with just his gaze, he could make his children giggle with a wink, and he could make your mother swoon with that sparkle in his eyes.

Even little Aegon could tell 

Even if the nannies took control over your little brother, you were by his side until he fell asleep, and then you went to your own room

You served yourself a cup of wine, another cup of wine.

“Call in Lord Stark please”, you asked Eryk, and he nodded and went to fulfill your requirement 

It was inappropriate, to say the least, to summon a man to your chambers at this late… but you needn't to worry about such matters… Or you did

Your brother was right, you were a Queen, you had to begin to act like one 

Cregan foud you seated by the fire, in a relaxed stance, with a goblet of wine in your hand

“Your grace”, he greeted, he seemed serious, but you believed you found a glint in his eye… you were started to get to know him and his facial expressions, as cold as they may seem

“My Lord Hand”

“You will summon me and believe me, I will attend to your calling, but I must say, if someone sees me coming into your chambers at the hour of the owl, where we are going to be alone…”

“I’m aware”, you said, smiling at him

“What do you need?”, he asked gently, with a smirk on his lips

“Today in the garden…”, you started, “you mentioned the pact you sign”

“Yes I did”, he said

“Why?”, you asked him

“Why?”, he asked back

“Why would you bring it up?”, you asked again, “it seems that you do not intent to honor it”, he got quiet then, analyzing you

“I meant…”

“There is no one else…”, you said, “it is you”, you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling. He softened his gaze

“Is that a command?”, he asked, amusement in his voice, it was like he was playing a game.

“Marry me”, you said, “honor the pact of Ice and Fire… you can come back home, on the condition of course that you come back…”

“To you”, he said

“To me”, you agreed. “Everyone will be at ease, well, except for the Hightowers, when you sit at my side in the throne…”, you said, he barely nodded, still smiling 

“I don’t think so…”, he said finally, you stopped all your movements, was he rejecting you? he was not going to marry you? you had to command him, if he refused, you could fall through, you couldn’t make a man marry you… you started feeling ashamed of even summoning him here… you were starting to feel like an idiot

He turned his back to you and went to the small table in the corner and served himself a goblet of wine.

“I think they will feel threatened..”, he continued, you smiled then, taking a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “you and me together…”, he continued, taking a sip, “soon they’ll realize… the dragon and the wolf sat together… and they are all sheep”

You both smiled widely at each other 

this is the vibe I was going for jajaja

Cregan is... complex... everyone wanted a tougher Cregan, i'm giving a gray one. He has ambitions, and wants power, and he is not indiferent to us, the beautiful young Queen... of what I read about Cregan, it is what I perceive... anyways... hope you like... maybe I moved it a bit too quickly but I want to get to the good part

taglist! ❤️

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos 

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hiii! I was wondering if u could do a royalty au with the yandere Mikaelsons! It can either be human or vampire but like image THE AESTHETICS OF IT!! And can u somehow include rebekah as well!! I can leave the rest of the plot up to u or if u want I can also send ideas :)

I Don’t Want a Crown -Klaus M.

For something like this I could see going vampire but no, I’m going human on this. I’m excited to try it out!

Part 2

Your father thought it was an insult.

You were your fathers youngest daughter, the only one currently unmarried as he had married off your sisters already to make necessary alliances. The Mikaelson family was a very powerful ally, they were close with the king and queen but your father only wanted you to be married to the eldest, Elijah. Elijah however is already betrothed.

Elijah was happy to marry you to his younger brother, Niklaus, who you hadn’t met but you had heard some truly horrific stories of him beheading and gutting his enemies.

Your father dismissed you so that he could talk to Elijah alone and you happily exited the stuffy room, exploring the castle before making your way outside. You were enjoying the overcast sky before coming across a man leaning against a tree and seemingly sketching something in a book. You paused as you walked passed him to look and see him drawing an image of your horse that was by the stables.

‘That’s very good…are you an artist or something?’ You questioned and he paused to look down at you before smiling.

‘Or something, it’s a nice hobby. I’m glad you like it. I’m Nik, lovely to meet you.’ He took your hand, kissing your knuckle softly and bowing as he did which made you smile. Many men that greeted you didn’t think they had to bow to anyone but your parents, this man was a stranger and showing you more respect than your regular suitors.

‘I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure. Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you Nik.’ You turned to walk away when he quickly fell into step beside you.

‘I can’t leave a beautiful girl to walk alone now can I? What kind of a man would I be?’ He held out his arm and you took it as you walked through the gardens. ‘So, why are you taking a stroll alone on such a dreary day?’

‘Oh I love days like these, and I love walking in the rain…much to my fathers dismay but that somehow makes it better.’ You teased and he seemed to like it. ‘Rainy days are the best kind. And I suppose I needed to get away. My father has been trying to marry me off to some rich family, though which one is anyone’s guess. It’s exhausting meeting potential husbands every day, and not one of them actually interested in meeting me. Just my father because it’s his choice and I will do what I’m told. Then I’ll get married to a man who is cold and cruel and just as happy to make me do what I’m told. I’m not ignorant enough to think I should be free to fall in love, the world isn’t that kind but shouldn’t we at least like each other? I don’t want to become my sister, married to a man who beats her with only the intention of filling her with a son…and now I’m ranting my problems to a stranger who only asked about the weather. I’m so sorry Nik-‘

‘I asked why you were walking, you answered. And I don’t think it’s an outrageous request to want to get along or a husband who will not beat you. A man should respect his wife, she is the one who will raise his children and give him a happy home to come back to every day, warm his bed yes but that should be more than one sided as well.’ You tried to hide your blush at the topic but he definitely noticed. ‘You’re a lovely women. You should be taken care of, and regardless of what a man is like with other men he should be a gentleman with his family. I’m sure your husband will prove to be a good man, at least to you.’ You smiled at that, his optimism being refreshing.

‘It’s a nice sentiment, though the man my father is meeting with now is trying to marry me off to an apparent madman. Of course those are just rumors, everyone deserves a fair chance.’ He looked stunned by your words as you sat yourself on the rock wall overlooking the ocean. It’s where you came to read often, it was peaceful and you loved watching the waves when it stormed.

‘You have a refreshing outlook on life. I like how sweet you are Y/n. Any man should be honored to have you, I know I would be.’ He sat beside you, kissing your hand once again, his blue eyes being the kind you want to get lost in for hours.

‘Well, I’m an optimist I guess. Besides, it’s not just him that’s a possibility. My father is meeting with someone else today, I suppose he feels slighted that I’ve been offered a second son, dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life but my father is nothing if not sensitive.’ You joked and while he laughed he looked…angry? He hid it quickly before standing and holding out his hand.

‘We should get you inside, it’s going to rain any second Princess.’ He walked you back to the castle in silence and while it wasn’t uncomfortable, you felt the need to ask as you got inside.

‘Have I offended you? If I have, you have my sincerest apologies my Lord, I don’t-‘

‘Nonsense! You have done nothing of the sort.’ He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and the way he looked at you was so…heavy. ‘Now, you go get yourself warmed up and dressed for dinner. I’m sure I will see you again in a bit.’ With that he bowed and was gone, leaving you to realize how late it really was and rush to get ready for dinner.

When you arrived you were greeted by your mother as your father spoke to a man who must be in his early 40s. Very close to his age at least. ‘Y/n, your father has invited both of your suitors, Lord Aslan and Lord Mikaelson to dinner tonight. He would like to speak with both of them freely and see which is the best match, please be on your best behavior?’ Your mother begged.

‘Please tell me that old man is my suitors father?’ Your mother looked at you with hard eyes and you knew to shut up as you all sat down to eat.

‘Should we wait for the Mikaelson’s?’ Your mother asked and father rolled his eyes.

‘Can’t even be on time for a potential alliance. How disgraceful.’ Lord Aslan spoke and now you rolled your eyes.

‘Apologies my Lord, my brother has had to leave, our sister is having a bit of trouble. I’m sorry for my tardiness.’ You know that voice.

‘We can understand that. Young women are a handful, I should know, my wife gave me 5.’ Everyone knows your father hates that your mother gave him so many girls before a boy but he still brings it up. You looked up to see Nik sitting in the chair across from you and smiled politely, but you’re sure he could see it didn’t reach your eyes. ‘Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/n.’ You waved politely, Nik smiling while the man beside your father leered at you.

‘The pleasure is mine Princess.’ Lord Mikaelson greeted, the other man laughing suddenly and gaining everyone’s attention.

‘She’s not a Princess. A Lady, maybe, and a lovely one at that.’ You cringed, taking a drink from your cup and trying to ignore his eyes on you.

‘Every women should be treated as a Princess by her husband. Do you not agree my Lord? I’ve met many Princesses, they don’t hold a candle to you Darling.’ The blush is back and this time you can’t even pretend to hide it.

‘Thank you my Lord, you are sweet.’

The rest of dinner was your father speaking to Lord Aslan while he leered at you and you spoke to Nik back and forth, finding the rumors about him to be insane. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Or so you thought.

After they had left and you were getting ready for bed your father knocked on your door, letting himself in with a stern look on his face. ‘You behaved very rudely at dinner. You didn’t once try to speak to Lord Aslan.’

‘He was staring at my chest all night and he didn’t speak to me either, just you. He wants me to be his wife and doesn’t even want to know anything about me? No thank you. Besides, I loved speaking with Niklaus, he was sweet and he wanted to know me. I would much rather-‘ you were about to finish when your father cut you off with a hand around your throat, eyes angry and determined.

‘You think I care what you want? Your opinion means nothing to me child, it’s the men that matter and I will not be offended by being offered a second son for my youngest girl. I’m being given land and an army by Lord Aslan, plus a dowry that is worth much more than you. You’ll make yourself happy where ever I put you like a good daughter and a good wife! You are set to marry Lord Aslan in a fort night. That is all I will hear on the matter.’ When he stopped speaking he finally allowed you to breathe, pulling his hand away and watching you collapse to the floor, gasping for air. ‘Sleep daughter. You have lunch with your husband tomorrow and you must be presentable.’ With that he was gone and you were left alone to change into your night gown, holding a cold compress to the quickly forming bruises on your throat.

You were in too much pain to relax and sleep, every time you moved your neck or swallowed pain shot through your throat and didn’t leave you with the ability to get comfortable. You had finally given up trying and ended up on the loveseat with a book and an inability to stop the tears despite your pain. You were going to spend the rest of your life with a man who doesn’t care for you at all. Niklaus would move on and find a new wife, some lucky girl to have a good husband and a good life and you hate her. You were trying to calm yourself when you heard a knock on your French doors making you look up before it happened again. Quickly you wiped your face before moving to the doors to see a familiar face, waving casually.

‘What are you doing?’ You asked, opening the doors and allowing him to slip in and watching as he looked around your plain room.

‘I am to be your husband, I’m allowed to see my wife, aren’t I? I want to get to know you better before-we…why are you crying?’ You quickly wiped your face again and he stopped you, taking your hands in his and brushing the tears away.

‘Niklaus, you have to go. You can’t be here-‘

‘I will not have you cry, why are you upset, I can-‘

‘You can’t fix it! You are not going to be my husband! I told you, I’m not going to be married to a second son and what I want doesn’t matter! You need to leave, please? You’ll be killed if you’re found in here!’ You pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, pulling you close and tilting your head up, inspecting the bruises on your neck gently. ‘My Lord-‘

‘Husband.’ He cut you off, clearly angry but not acting on it. ‘I’m sorry if you got confused Princess, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, your father seems to want to irritate me. There was no chance of any other man marrying you, I have already decided that you’re mine. You are not to worry about that, do you understand?’ He asked it so softly you felt like you were dreaming.

‘But my father-‘

‘Do. You. Understand?’ His eyes were a stormy blue, like a raging sea, impossible to tame but he never once made you feel like you were in danger with him.

‘I understand. But my father will never agree. He’s stubborn and cruel-‘

‘You haven’t seen cruel Princess…and you never will. I promise you that. And this-‘ he touched your neck softly, his eyes hardening when he looked at the bruises. ‘This will never happen to you again. Not in this lifetime, you are my wife, my Princess to protect and no one will ever harm you. No one will get close enough to try. Tomorrow you’ll go about your day like normal and not speak a word of this, then you will get the news that you are being married to me. Now come, Princess’ need sleep.’ He suddenly lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bed, tucking you into the blankets and holding your hand.

‘I can’t sleep. My neck hurts and I-‘

‘Shh.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle, reaching up to open your mouth and you didn’t fight him as he pored it onto your tongue, making you swallow. ‘Now relax, you’ll sleep just fine my darling. Don’t you worry about that.’ He pressed your hand to his face, kissing your palm and sighing, his stubble scratching your hand roughly. As he began standing your eyes fell, heavy with sleep and you felt a kiss on your cheek before you fell asleep.

You slept well into the next day and you were awoken by a maid just before lunch, helping you into a dress that covered the marks on your neck. You went to the gardens for your lunch but Lord Aslan never showed up.

Your father was furious for the rest of the day and you didn’t see him at dinner but your mother told you that he was in a meeting. Walking back to your bedroom that night you turned to see familiar blue eyes looking down at you, waiting outside your door. ‘Nik?’

‘Hello my darling wife.’ He pulled you close to his chest and into your room, the door shutting behind him. ‘Our wedding will be held in 2 days time, everything is being taken care of, you won’t have to lift one little finger. I want you to have the best wedding day ever.’

You pulled back, looking up at him confused. ‘I’m engaged already, he told me-‘

‘Your father is an idiot, and he knew not to cross me yet he did so anyway after finding out that I wanted you as my wife. That’s his problem. The other…I hesitate to call him a man, isn’t an issue anymore. He was found dead in his home this morning for looking at things that didn’t belong to him.’ You stared up at him in shock, not sure what to do. ‘I told you, I like how sweet you are and any man should feel honored to have you. I do, and I always will. I will protect my sweet girl until my dying day, and not once will your innocent eyes be forced to see anything even resembling violent. I know I’m not the best man, but I will take care of you love, and I will love you for the rest of eternity…do you want to be mine?’

You didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I’m already yours-‘

‘I will see to it that you live like a nun for the rest of your life if that’s what you choose, but I would much prefer you be mine. I love you Y/n, but it’s your choice.’ His honesty spoke volumes and I nodded my head without hesitation.

‘Yes. I want to be your wife…I love you too Nik.’

Klaus was the best husband she could have ever dreamed of and he was true to his word, she never saw any violence…even when she ordered it.

I Don’t Want a Crown Moodboard

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (4) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you realize that there is more to this than snow just wanting a bride.

word count: 2,548

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: jealous!coryo, manipulative!coryo, not proofread

It brought you an inexplicable about of joy to get on Snow’s nerves. This was certainly a positive if you had effectively no choice but to marry him. It was fair, though, wasn’t it? He gets you as a bride, and you get to drive him up the wall. And, oh, how you’ve annoyed him. The way his jaw ticked, the narrowing of his eyes when you declared that the beautiful kitten he got you would be named Coriolanus. Just after you denied calling him by his name! If you weren’t intent on seeing how far you could push him, you might have cackled in that moment. 

The joy, however, was short-lived when Snow actually agreed that Coriolanus the Cat was your first son with him. If you would have known that he’d agree, you certainly never would have made the joke in the first place. Now—with Snow and your mother as witnesses to your agreement—you had to behave when around Snow. Granted, you did make the caveat that you would only behave to the best of your ability, which could be as little or as much as you wanted on any given day. Snow would not let you live the agreement down, though, you knew that much. Any time you could think about stepping a toe out of line, you were sure Snow would be quick to bring up the agreement.

You should have known better. 

“What do you think of Snow?” you asked your lady’s maid as she helped you get ready for the day. 

She paused as she tied the laces of your corset. “He would take very good care of you, ma’am,” she said.

You hummed, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Tigris had made you a pale pink dress. Snow favored red, but your mother would kill you if you wore a color as scandalous as red before you were married. Pink, though, was a close alternative. “In the sense that I would want for nothing, yes, he would. But do you think I could grow to love him?”

She bowed her head, but that did not stop you from seeing the face she made. “He can be charming.”

“When it suits him,” you finish. You sighed. “I apologize. I know you cannot speak ill of the King. I just…am so tired of people acting like I should kiss his feet for showing interest in me.”

As she finished helping you into your dress, she said, “I know nothing of marriage, ma’am, but I know enough to say it is not without its struggles. Even if you could have a love match, there would be days you hate him for the most mundane things.”

“But if it was a love match, then it would all be worth it.” A frown settled on your face. “Or perhaps I’m being naïve. Mama and Papa were once a love match, and their scheming to have me married off to Snow is the first time they have truly spoken to each other in years.”

Your lady’s maid squeezed your hand. “All will be well, ma’am. If you can never love His Majesty, you will find something else to pour your affections into. Now, we should head downstairs. His Majesty is never late.”

You laughed. Well, that was certainly not true. Though, you supposed she didn’t know that. “Sometimes he is.”

But, after checking your reflection one last time, you turned and left your room. Your room was at the top of the stairs, so when you walked out, you could see Snow, holding Coriolanus the Cat, as he spoke with your mother. The sight made you giggle. He looked so uncomfortable holding the little kitten. One would think that he had been made to hold a pile of garbage than a sweet kitty. 

Almost like he heard you, Snow looked up to where you stood. You clenched your teeth, knowing now that you would have to put on an act. Because of the agreement, you no longer could revel in the private moments where you could do everything in your power to annoy Snow. Now, he expected perfection, and he would receive it. 

Slowly, you descended the stairs, your hand dragging along the bannister. The closer you got to him, the more a smirk grew on his face. Oh, you were sure he was reveling in this. 

His eyes never left yours. It was unnerving. Any other man in his position would be staring at your body—treating you completely like an object, just a pretty thing to hang off of his arm. But Snow…You weren’t sure. It was almost like he enjoyed tearing you apart, acknowledging your humanity and your independence just so he could squash any hope you had. 

Snow passed Coriolanus the Cat off to your mother, who looked even more comfortable than him, when you reached the bottom of the stairs. He held his hand out for you, which you reluctantly took. “That dress looks beautiful on you. Did Tigris make it?”

“She’s the only modiste I trust,” you said. 

He smiled. It almost looked twisted. “Then I suppose I should be paying her handsomely for your wedding gown?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Your Majesty—” your mother cut in. 

Her words died in her throat as Snow narrowed his eyes at her. At least he also was not fond of her. If you couldn’t like him as a person, at least you might be able to bond over hating your mother. “Do you think you have the authority to tell me how I should and should not spend my money? I shall spoil my bride however I see fit.”

“Of course. I just meant—”

Snow ignored her, and held his arm out for you to take. “Let us promenade?”

A hint of a smile danced across your face. If all of your conversations were limited to despising your mother, then this might not be so awful. You held onto his bicep. “Let’s.”

Snow led you out of the house, letting your mother scramble to pass off Coriolanus the Cat to the butler so that the two of you wouldn’t get too far without a chaperone. “I think she is going to loathe you by the time you propose if you keep this up,” you said. 

He snorted. “You think it will take that long?”

“Not all of us are smart enough to despise you at first meeting,” you said. “She likely still has delusions of grandeur, that you are only acting this way in an attempt to sweeten me up to you and after we wed, you will be kinder.”

“Ah. Is it working then?”

You frowned, looking up at him. He was already watching you. Did he ever stop staring? “Is what working?”

“Sweetening you up, as you say,” Snow clarified. He offered you a small smile. “Contrary to what you think, I do not wish for you to be unhappy.”

“No, you only wish for me to be a mindless pawn in your pursuit of power. Snow…If you are trying to make me warm up to you, to even just tolerate your existence as opposed to hating it, you will be disappointed. I will not act out. I will not cause a scene. If you wish for me to provide you an heir, I shall. But I will not, and I cannot, pretend that I am happy with this. You have gotten me a kitten. You have offered me a library. You will give me one of the highest titles in Panem. But you cannot provide me with what I want.”

Snow looked away from you. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. For a moment, you wondered if you touched a nerve. You would not care if you did, but Snow also held your entire life in his hands. He could make you as miserable as he wished. Though you may not like it, this was him being kind in whatever way he could manage. “Would it truly be so awful? Loving me?”

By now, you had reached the square. As your eyes swept through the park, you took note of how well-populated the area was. It was not uncommon at this point in the season for the many courting couples to spend their afternoons in the square. It was certainly better than stuffy teas and tense luncheons. With that, though, came the lack of privacy. Unlike a ball, where the music and the dancing and the overlapping conversations drowned everything out, you were in the open. Anything you said, any wrong move you made, could easily be noticed. It was why, you supposed, Snow liked to ask you to promenade. It was one of the few times you would hold your tongue. 

But you could not be silent about your true thoughts now.

Dropping your voice to a near-whisper, you said, “You cannot force love, Snow. It happens organically, with time. With people who do not go at each other’s throats over every disagreement. We are too different. I have told you, I will not sacrifice my ideals to play a happy little wife.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice who you are. Your ideals, your resoluteness, your inability to ever let something go…That is why I chose you. All I want is your cooperation. If you give me that, I will make everything else worthwhile.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. What more did he want from you? Was it not enough for you to allow him to show you off like you were some doll, to stake his claim on you and say little to anyone about how unwilling a participant you were? “Am I not cooperating now?”

“You are.”

“Then why do you need my love too?”

Snow finally looked at you again. Now, though, his pale blue eyes had darkened. You sucked in a breath. He almost looked…possessed? Was that the right word? He certainly didn’t look himself, the perfect picture of composure. You spared a glance at the couples around you. If anyone saw the way he looked at you, like he might just eat you, no one revealed it. 

“I want all of you, and I cannot settle for anything less.”

Why did he insist on this? Why did it matter so much to him? Snow was getting everything he wanted. He would get a wife. He would get an heir. You were from a good family. You were intelligent enough for his standards. You would even refrain from acting out in public. You would play the role he wanted in the eyes of Panem. Why was all of that not enough? What was so important about receiving your love too? 

Unless…

You dropped Snow’s arm. He looked at you almost like you slapped him. As the two of you stopped in the middle of the walkway, the other couples started to look more closely. You could hardly blame them. It would certainly be entertaining if you and Snow had a lover’s quarrel (or whatever way they decided to paint this picture) in the middle of the square. But you could hardly focus on them. 

“Sejanus was right,” you said. 

Snow’s jaw ticked. Oh. You definitely touched a nerve there. But that hardly made any sense. Him and Sejanus were friends. Of course, you supposed in telling Snow that if you had to marry anyone for social status, you would marry Sejanus, it would put a strain on their friendship. Snow sucked in a breath, as if trying to calm himself. Yet, when he spoke, his tone was clipped. “Do not say his name around me.” 

“But he, Lord Plinth, I mean, was right,” you repeated. It was hard to take heed in his words when all you could focus on what the revelation at hand. 

“I do not care about what he said and whether it was truthful. I would like to promenade, and so that is what we shall do.”

“Snow—”

He grabbed your hand. You nearly jumped away from him. But between his tight grip and the eyes of the ton, you forced yourself to stay still. Snow brought your hand back to his arm, forced your fingers to curl around his bicep. Some of the tension in his shoulders melted away when you touched him. 

“There,” he said. He let out another breath. “You promised me you would behave, yes?”

“I—Yes, I did.”

“Then stop talking, and let us promenade.”

Was this the life you were going to live now? Placating a King whose mood could flip at the drop of a name? You had never seen someone become so angry so quickly. All you had done was say Sejanus’s name, and Snow had acted like you committed treason. Was it treason for him? Did he truly view it that way? If you had known he would be so adverse to even hearing you speak about Sejanus, you would have never admitted to him that you thought Sejanus would be an easy man to love. At the time, though, you thought it wouldn’t matter. Snow already had you where he wanted you. The only person truly standing in your way to pursue other matches was Snow himself. Why would you think that admitting your true desires change anything? 

Not seeing a way out of this, you bowed your head and did not say another word. You feared what he might do if you stepped out of line. If he was so angry at you saying Sejanus’s name, what could he do if you disobeyed him?

Snow stared at you for a long moment, trying to determine what you might do. When he was satisfied with your compliance, he began walking again, acting as if the spat never occurred. You had been prepared for the rest of the walk to be in silence. You certainly didn’t plan on saying anything else. There was no winning if you did. 

“I am going to meet with your father at the end of the week,” Snow said. You sucked in a breath. If he noticed, he didn’t react. “We will need to discuss the terms of our engagement.”

Not knowing what to say, you hummed in acknowledgment. 

Snow, however, was not happy with that. “Tell me you cannot wait to marry me.”

Tears began to prick at your eyes. How could your life be stolen from you in just a matter of weeks? How could Coriolanus Snow come in and ruin everything you wanted for yourself? How could he keep demanding more? You considered repeating the same sentence he said, but you knew he would not be satisfied with that. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I cannot wait to become Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

His chest puffed out and a smirk settled on his face. Well, at least you knew the right things to say to placate him. That might at least make the marriage easier to manage. 

Snow leaned into you, pressed his nose into your hair. It was hardly appropriate, especially in public, especially between two unmarried people. But he was King, and no one would stop him from doing what he pleased, societal expectations be damned.

“Good girl,” he whispered. 

[thought--bubble]

In Need Of An Heir Pt 4

Aemond (Canon Era) X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,874

In Need of an Heir Master List

Aemond (Canon Era) Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: mentions of forced marriage, Religious guilt.

Aemond watches you and Royce make a hasty exit from the dinner after being excused. As soon as the doors shut behind you, Aegon breaks out into a hearty laugh.

"I see you have charmed your betrothed brother. She seems truly smitten!"

Aemond looks straight at Aegon. Face stoic and cold. "So it seems." This just makes Aegon laugh harder.

"I'm sure that she is just nervous. A marriage is a big step. She is leaving her home and living somewhere new. With people she hardly knows, we would all do well to try and make her feel more comfortable. " Alicent looks at Aemond as she says this. Her usual way of asking him to do something without actually asking him.

His face remains still. There are a lot of things he will do if his mother so wishes. Going out of his way to make this girl comfortable is not one of them. Making people comfortable isn't something that he excels at, and he's self-aware.

He already has plans for the coming week. Ignore everyone and everything as much as possible. Train and attend councils as necessary and assist Criston, who is the current hand of the king, in keeping an ever watchful eye on Aegon, and that's it. Nowhere in that schedule is there room to spend time with this girl and make her comfortable. He will have to spend enough of his life with her. He should at least enjoy what time he has left.

So that is exactly what he does. The whole week goes by pretty quickly. His mother didn't bother him with much of the wedding plans, though she did ask him to meet with the jeweler to choose a necklace for his bride.

"Make sure to choose something special. This will be your first gift to her." She had said.

The jeweler has several necklaces laid out for Aemond to choose from. Most being beautiful rubies or emeralds. He spots a beautiful citrine necklace. He picks it up, turning the jewel between his fingers a few times. Maybe the yellow color will remind her of home. Make her more comfortable as his mother had suggested.

He holds the citrine necklace in his hand as he continues to peruse the other available choices when his eye stops on a beautiful sapphire necklace. His hand involuntarily passes over his eye patch.

"Make a connection" more words of wisdom from his mother.

He puts the citrine necklace down and picks up the sapphire. "This one," he rubs his thumb over the flat surface of the stone before handing it to the jeweler.

He leaves the room quickly after that, heading to his mother's chambers. She wanted to have a brief meeting with him before the wedding, which he has been putting off all week. Seeing as the wedding was tomorrow, he couldn't put it off any longer, so reluctantly, he makes the trip through the winding corridors to his mother's apartments.

As he rounds the corner, he spots your small frame. Hunched over arm outstretched on the wall, no doubt supporting your weight.

He can hear you groan out loud as he gets closer.

"Is everything alright, my lady?" He knows the true answer to this is an unequivocal no. You are being forced to marry him tomorrow after all.

When you turn and look at him, he doesn't see the fear he had seen at dinner. He can't quite place exactly what it is he sees. Your big eyes travel up and down his body.

He hates to be seen. Truly seen. Looked at gawked at like some sort of beast. What does she see? A man? A prince? A monster? He can't be sure, and it's that thought that terrifies him.

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

"Hmmm," he clicks his tongue as he observes you, as if trying to find any sort of sign that will tell him what it is you were thinking. What was really going on in your head.

"Are you due to visit my mother?"

"Oh no, just left her company, actually," he tries to think of some way to keep the conversation going. Maybe have a brief conversation before being wed in front of the gods.

His mind is blank and quickly gives up on this idea. "Very well then, I will keep you no longer." he walks towards his mother's door quickly and gently knocks on the door.

Never before has he wished for his mother to answer the door quickly the way he does in this moment.

You curtsy and walk off. He sees this out of the corner of his eye, but he keeps his head straightforward.

His mind is racing as he waits for his mother to answer the door, he hates not knowing things. He prides himself on knowing more than anyone else in the room. But with this. His marriage, his bride, he knows next to nothing.

Finally a chambermaid opens the door, before she has a chance to greet or curtsy Aemond walks briskly past her and into his mothers apartments.

"Mother..." his demeanor is cold but his mother knows him better than anyone. His cool facade never works on her.

"Sit Aemond, there are a few things i wish to discuss before tomorrow" she gestures to the chair directly across from her.

He sits down curling his fingers over the end of the armrest. Scratching briefly at the wood with his fingernails.

"so, as you know tomorrow you are to be married"

he sighs and looks up at the ceiling "I'm aware"

"I want to review the process, where you will stand all of those things...... but first, I want to speak to you regarding the wedding night."

He rolls his eye and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "There is no need to discuss this mother, I know what is expected of me and will see it done"

"There is another person in this equation Aemond, I have been exactly where she is. I just mean to bring that to your attention. How you treat her on your wedding night may effect the way your entire marriage plays out. Mutual respect and care, gentleness and understanding. This isn't simply a duty to be done." She is looking at him with a solemn expression. "I just ask that you take this into consideration. That she will most likely be scared and as her husband it is part of your duty to make her feel safe"

he simply nods in understanding. Not wanting to discuss this topic any further.

"You will have some work to do in regards to showing her that you are in fact a decent man" she says this with some disdain. A tone she rarely uses when she speaks to him. A tone she uses when she talks about one particular subject. A subject he again would rather not discuss.

"Is that so? Have I already wronged her in some way?" He chuckles as he leans back in his chair. He knows exactly what his mother is referring to and it irritates him. he fancies himself a patient man though others may disagree. He does not however have any patience for being judged, right or wrong what he has done, the sins he has committed are between him and the gods and he will not explain himself to another person. That includes his mother and his soon to be wife.

"You had already made a promise to wed her and be a loyal dutiful husband when you..... took part in certain activities, so yes in a manner of speaking you have in fact wronged her in a way. But not just her. The gods of which you are about to stand in front of and be wed." She gives him that scalding look of disappointment he hates so much.

"I see" He hates that his mother is right. He prides himself on fulfilling his duties, keeping his oaths. "Well seeing as the ability to travel back in time escapes me, it seems she will have to make do."

"Just something to be mindful of" she says gently, and from there the conversation breaks out into the specifics of the wedding. Where to be and when, how the procession will take place who will do what.

Once his mother finally dismisses him he exits her apartments swiftly making his way back to his chambers. He intends to spend the rest of the day there. In his solitude, a book in hand, and that is exactly what he does. He has his supper alone in his chambers and lays down to rest much earlier than usual.

Though he is laying down sleep does not come. Tomorrow ever watchful eyes will be on him. The eyes of his mother, his brother, his bride, so many others, but most of all the gods.

The gods he knows he has no doubt disappointed. He is a kin slayer, a murderer, he has been lustful, violent, driven by revenge and hate, and now he is to stand before those same gods who's principles he has betrayed and ask them to bless the union of his marriage.

He can only hope his bride has enough goodness for the both of them.

When the morning finally comes he moves swiftly. This is what he is best at. Being given a duty to fulfill and seeing it done through to completion. He dawns some of his best attire makes his way down to the sept earlier than anticipated.

He enters the large hall of the Sept and runs his hand over the corners of the benches as he walks through. It is decorated beautifully as his mother no doubt commissioned. It seems so frivolous. To spend the money on such an affair when the common folk are suffering after the war. Especially those trying to rebuild in the Riverlands.

It needs to be done. So it will be done.

Aemond waits patiently while the others make their way to the Sept. The hall fills with people as he is directed to his post. His battle station. The voices that were filling the sept are being quieted as everyone makes their way to their assigned positions. Aemond stares ahead at the empty space where his bride will soon stand and waits.

He turns and nods his head only when his brother is carried in and placed at the front of the observers. his eyes on Aemond a lazy smile on his face.

After that he stares blankly ahead and waits for the sound of those big doors opening. The sound of his bride making her way to him.

When he hears the doors open he closes his eye and takes a deep breath, not turning his head but remaining forward facing.

it's not long before she is stationed before him. Her hair looks beautiful, her dress looks beautiful, but she looks frightened.

"she will most likely be scared and as her husband it is part of your duty to make her feel safe" his mothers words play through his head.

He gives her a small smile.

As with all of his duties he shall see this completed.

Part 5

To be added to taglist click here

[opiopal]

I need to ramble a little about this,

about how solmare makes mc in canon pisses me off sometimes. like how easily they can just let themself be cruel and mean to the brothers and other characters. I can't be the only one who gets BAFFLED seeing the options of either be mean or be meaner when it comes to chats or lessons.

and I dont mean "boo hoo i cant take a joke:(((", I mean the fact that Mc constantly joins in on teasing other characters. like, ik mc doesnt have to be a sweet mary sue all the time, and they can have personality, but the whole "we love mc because they are kind ad caring" thing falls apart when we as the players aren't able to let Mc BE KING AND CARING.

the thing it: I got HYPED when I saw we could slap lucifer after he saves us from his damn dog for the first time, because that fucker NEEDED to be hit after all the shit he did. HOWEVER. when there are options to drag down asmo, or mammon, or levi, or ANY of the brothers for NO reason at all and it sucks, they could be minding their own business and all of a sudden mc is given the choice to be like "haha mammon you really are a scum bag" or "asmo I dont like you and you aren't attractive at all."

also, mc isn't even given the option to flirt back with or be romantic with the brothers as often as lucifer. I wouldn't be surprised if lucifer was randomly like "remember when we got married mc" when the player is actively dating literally ANYONE else than him. like seriously, I'll be pushing so hard to have a single flirty message with mammon, and lucifer over here is randomly alluding to mc and him doing the devils tango for 5 hours straight in the library out of the blue.

I personally get frustrated because in game mc is so different to my own mc, which obviously it will be hard to have everyones mc be accommodated and I am aware of that, but can't we have more dialogue diversity when it comes to mc? as in like, a max of four different things. be sassy, be nice, be a little mean, be timid, that kind of stuff. I have it so then my mc doesn't have a single mean bone in their body. they are in anyone and everyones corner. they are 100% someone you could go to for support! someone who is kind and patient!! HOWEVER. they will still call people out, just because she cares about someone does not mean she'll lie to them and tell them the bad thing they did was right. truly caring for someone means being honest with them no matter if the truth hurts or not. so sometimes I do actually appreciate the chance to be a little straight forwards and a bit brutally honest at times! but I still want the chance to tell the brothers to stop picking on mammon, or to tell lucifer to leave belphie alone and that he can't help but be tired, or to tell anyone at all to stop picking on luke, or literally ANYTHING that doesn't lead to a character being targeted by another person they love/care for.

YES. they are demons. they are clearly used to being nasty and mean. and yes they are BROTHERS, and siblings are nasty to each other(trust me, I know. I'm the second youngest of four. I get it.). but that doesn't mean they should have to handle arguments and belittlement from the only people who understand who they are as a person.

idk, it just angers me to think about Mc easily being able to hurt the brothers emotionally and physically just because they felt like it.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #12

[Mermay Special Part 2 a/n This is an interactive story, your choice continues it, so choose wisely!]

"No, we are not! What are you saying?!"

Confused and appalled by your friend's statement, you flinched as they swam closer, placed their arm around your waist, and pulled you towards them. You were about to push them away when the room suddenly burst into loud, merry laughter. It was both a symphony and a cacophony, catching you off-guard and only allowing your friend to press you against them more. And still shaken with surprise, you clung to them.

As frustrating as it was, they were still the safe anchor in all of this, even though you had doubts about how safe they truly were. 

"Well, this is great!" the king, your friend's father, cheered, swimming down from his throne and right up to you, giving you a big hug. "We are so glad our little guppy found his mate!"

You wanted to protest, but his arms around you were so tight that you were scared they'd smash you if you said anything wrong. When you were finally released, you noticed that all of the mermaids had come closer, even the queen, who remained silent. Most were patting your friend on the back, telling them, "Well done!" and you felt some of the merfolks' hands gliding through your hair and touching your hands or shoulders in fleeting motions. It was unbearable. 

Perhaps through your closeness or the way your breathing turned into gasps, gills flaring, your friend noticed the tension shaking through you, gracefully commanding the attention of everyone as they announced, "It's been quite a day of travel to come here. I think we'll retreat for today but thank you all so much for the kind welcome!"

Everyone seemed to buy the excuse your friend was dishing to them. You looked into many warm and kind eyes, giving you only a tiny bit of solace, but it didn't matter right then. All that mattered was your friend guiding you away, pulling you through the water when the tension made it too hard to focus on using your own tail. It wasn't until the door to your room was shut behind you that you felt like you could breathe again, and the mood shifted from panic to anger.

"What was that?! Why did you lie and say we are in love and marrying soon?!"

Your apparent anger fell on deaf ears when your friend simply cocked his head in confusion, unsure how to reply to your accusations. Sighing, you shook your head, feeling a huge headache spread as you rubbed your temples; your attention suddenly diverted to the jewelry on your wrists, countless beaded bracelets and golden hoops now adorning you, and even around your shoulders were strings of pearls, and intricately made necklaces. They were all in places you had been touched before but you hadn't noticed. Immediately, the confusion returned to you, your emotions being thrown for a loop that day.

"I never said we were," he finally replied, swimming down to where you sat on the sandy floor of the room and cupping your cheek. "We're friends, right? I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and less out of place. That's why I told my family we are best friends."

"No, I heard it. You said we are in love, and your father asked about my intentions to marry you! I'm sure about it!"

They chuckled, adorable dimples forming on their face, and seemingly completely relaxed even when you felt quite the opposite. "Were you that nervous? Our language does sound a little different than yours. Maybe you misinterpreted it?"

There was no getting through to your friend, who kept denying what you heard! That and the headache made you feel miserable, and you barely listened as your friend babbled on. "I want to go home," you mumbled, exhaustion washing over you. 

"Oh, I know a place! It's great for sunbathing, and everyone there enjoys the waves rushing around them! We should go and check it out!"

It was so hard to follow your friend's words, but that wasn't at all what you wanted. You wanted to go home! Or at least... rest. This had all been too much for you, and the headache was tiring you out. But should you really rest in this unfamiliar place? Home was just a portal jump away, should you insist on leaving? 

A hand fell into your vision, outstretched and inviting. Your friend was smiling down at you, entirely at peace, even though your inner conflict raked at your nerves. Their shoulders were relaxed, expression kind and compassionate as they looked at the sorry state you were in. 

"I should really go home," you mumbled and they gave you an understanding nod. 

"Right away. We'll check out the sunspot, and then we'll go home, I promise. It's not far, I'll guide you."

Their hand popped up again, inviting you to take it, although you were conflicted about what to do. You wanted to insist on leaving now, but they also promised to take you home afterward. It could be the little adventure in this supernatural world that you could tell your future children. You took a deep breath through your gills, bracing yourself, the headache subsiding a little as you gathered all your strength.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[silvery-orchid]

my vices are slow and steady.

neuvillete let you make your choice once. and now you are standing in front of him again after your divorce. you should be glad his patience takes on a special shape when with you.

possessive! neuvillete x gn! reader. (a small gift to thank the neuvillette lovers from my inbox.)

his office rings with an all familiar sound. it is two o'clock in the afternoon. four years ago when he bought this clock, you said you hated the sound it made.

'for such an extravagant clock, it doesn't sound cute at all.' neuvillette did not understand what you meant until two years later. the chimes of this clock sounded like the bells that were in your wedding. and he had to agree with you that it was a horrible sound.

neuvillette always thought that patience was one of his virtues but while he was sitting there (in the middle of the row because sitting up front would have been dangerous), he finally realized that it was a vice when applied to you.

he was too patient; too lenient some would say. he held you in such a high light that when you started dating the foolish man, he thought it was a simple phase. extending you his grace and waiting for you to come to your senses seemed like the best option. and sometimes he considers the rest a blur. while he was busy dealing with fontaine's court and the underground rebellion, that foolish man worth less than the dust on his shelves slipped a ring on your finger.

neuvillete voiced with resounding reason to try and get you to reconsider. he was your dear friend after all. tough love has never been a stranger to your conversations with him. because of it, he felt no issue saying that you should break it off.

'i asked you for your opinion about my happiness, but it seems you consider me incapable of choosing.' were your exact words. thinking of it now, you said them to him while this same clock was chiming away. he remembers the way you walked out and the wedding invite he got only a few days later. you attached a small note next to it. - i asked you once and you said what you had to say. allow me to prove that this is not a mistake. -

he still has that same note in his desk on the very bottom. he threw out the invite as soon as your wedding was over but would showing you the note now be far too cruel?

neuvillette did not consider his patience to be a waste however. deciding that he was too patient only made him realize he had to continue with it a bit more until you came around.

oh, and after only 2 years of a shaky marriage, he can hear your footsteps on the tiles in front of his office hallway.

truly, your choice was utterly idiotic. it was bound to fail. marrying a simple toy maker? really? you needed someone far better than that. and now you were coming back to him. he knows those footsteps belong to you. the click-clack of your shoes is unmistakable to his heart. the slower third step you take makes his chest heave. he reminds himself that this is relief and that anger existed when your steps were echoing on the way to the isle.

he decides not to show you the note; he decides not to be angry. as long as you are walking in his direction, he can find it in himself to forgive your foolishness. but he can feel his patience has hit a limit as your hand turn the doorknob.

he has waited long enough for you too be back here; long enough until your dumb decision expired. would he speak first or would you? he did visit you a few times after you got married but he hadn't seen you for half a year now. he takes a deep breath as you take the first step inside the room of chessboard tiles. he refuses to take any other role in your life from now on. no rooks or bishops or knights - he will be your king. and he is afraid this is the one decision you cannot make because he knows better.

he straightens up, makes sure it seems like he is writing his signature down. only you are allowed to enter his office without knocking but why should you know that? you have no right to know all of the exceptions he gives you.

'i see you still have that ugly clock in here.' typical, of course you would lead with that. it causes his face to relax as a small smile shows. 'if i said it reminds me of you, would you hold it against me'

you are halfway through his office. you halt on the white tile. your arms are halfway outstretched. they make it clear you had the intention of embracing him. when they fall back down as you stop, he has to keep it in himself not to tsk. instead, he puts down the pen and gets up.

'would i hold it against you that you said i remind you of an ugly clock?'

neuvillette is already in front of you, he makes sure to take up all your visual space. he stands on the black tile as he continues what you failed to do. he puts one hand on your back, holds your waist with the other as he brings you in for a hug. he can feel his line of patience start to diminish once your bodies are so close to one another. he was right to wait, from now on he will ensure you two become even closer.

your body warmth and your scent should all belong to him. he breaks the embrace once he realizes the ugly truth he hated to imagine; you were even closer with another man. neuvillette can feel copper in his throat at the images that flood his mind. for a second while moving away, his gloved fingers hold onto your hip with some roughness but it is immediately gone once he takes a deep breath.

it isn't anything that cannot be fixed.

'how could i hold it against you when you were the reason i managed to get those divorce papers and hearings approved so fast?'

you truly have no idea how lucky you are to have him. wait, no; you had no idea how lucky you were to have him. but now you do and he will make sure to use it to his advantage.

'i am glad you sent me a letter asking for my help when you did. it is unfortunate that our laws and procedures change so fast that even those like you, who abandoned our service, have trouble navigating them.'

lying comes easy to him now. it was an oh so fortunate thing that brought you right back here. he can see his words sting and make your shoulders tense up but you have to be reminded of your mistake. he said he was patient, he never said he wouldn't hold it against you with remarks like these.

until you live, neuvillette will keep reminding you of your failure; of the idiotic man you choose and how you went against his advice.

you bite your lower lip for a second. it is on the left side. the left corner means you want to ask a question. the right corner means you are hesitating with a remark. of course he knows your patterns.

'neu...did you perhaps know what would happen? and that is why you were against me marrying him?'

he has to hold back his laughter deep inside. you look so cute asking him a question like that. it doesn't really matter what he knew about that man. all that matters is that he knew no other man would be good for you. his vices always had a way of slowly growing. there is no need for you to know the lengths he went to to keep his patience up. take the new legislation he introduced to ensure only certain toy makers would be kept afloat. or, take that bar worker that your ex-husband cheated on you with. he spent 5 hours choosing the perfect candidate based on the stack of papers with the name and image of foolish choice.

'have i ever had anything besides your best interests in my mind? come, we shouldn't be late to the magic show. lynette and lyney have improved drastically since the last time you saw them.'

perhaps it is another vice of his. but he refuses to have you come back to him only to speak of another. there is a time and a place for everything and neuvillette is patient enough to wait for the right moments to use your weaknesses against you.