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[himanshu-blue-art-pottery]

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[indiantiquest]

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[elkenbulwark]

-what are the effects? what's inside of me? it was never enough.

[hiteshmehtasuspire]

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[afirul-islam-seo-expert]

The Bold and Captivating Light Pink Suit for Men: A Guide to Rocking This Look

[clairekreads]

A Cranberry For Christmas by Charlie Dean @CharlieADean @rararesources #publicationday #blogblitz #spotlight #promo

🎉🎉🎉 Happy Publication Day to Charlie Dean 🎉🎉🎉 A Cranberry For Christmas is out today !!! Continue reading Untitled

[justdillydally]

Will You Still Love Me? (Gwayne Hightower x OFC) 4

Chapter Summary: Rhaella received an unexpected invitation from none other the Queen herself.

Chapter Rating/Trigger Warning for the chapter:  Teen and up audiences

Note: This chapter is shorter compared to the previous one and I thought I should post this because it will take much longer I stick with the original plan. The song I posted in here is originally from ASOIAF and take no credit to it. We have Queen Alicent and a sneak peek of Otto scheming hehe. Let me know your thoughts! Thank you for the likes from the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy this one.

@deniixlovezelda @loverslikeghosts

“Ser.” She bowed to Gwayne, her voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions churning within her, before she walked toward the King who had called for her to perform. As she moved away, she felt the lingering sensation of Gwayne’s gaze on her back, a reminder that their dance was far from over.

A lump formed on her throat with each step she took towards the king. Rhaella held her head high, ignoring Gwayne’s piercing gaze. Taking the space just beside the royal table, she had her hands clasped tightly together. Once the familiar melody was played, she took a deep breath and began to sing.

“Look how the light of the town,

Tlights of the town are shining now,

Tonight I'll be dancing around,

I'm off on the road to Galway now.

Look how she's off on the town,

She's off on a search for sailors though,

There's fine fellas here to be found,

She's never been one to stay at home.

Home you'll go and it's there you'll stay,

And you've work to do in the morning.

Give up your dream of going away,

Forget your sailors in Galway.

Come now and follow me down,

Down to the lights of Galway where,

There's fine sailors walking the town,

And waiting to meet the ladies there.

Watch now he'll soon be along,

He's finer than any sailor so,

Come on now pick up your spoons,

He's waiting to hear you play them.

Here today and she's gone tomorrow,

And next she's going to Galway,

Jiggin' around and off to town,

And won't be back until morning.”

Her voice smooth and melodious capturing all the eyes in the crowd. She bowed once the song was finished; the crowd cheered and gave her a round of applause.

“Thank you Rhaella.”King Viserys clasped a hand on her shoulder.

“ It’s my pleasure, your Grace.” She beamed a smile at him. “The tourney is a success. I’m pleased to be part of it although I’m afraid, I must head to my chambers. I might have drunk more wine than my stomach can carry.”

Viserys laughed merrily. “I bid you good night, niece.”

“Enjoy the rest of the festivities, Your Grace.” She curtsied to the King then to Queen Alicent whose eyes seemed like ready to bore a hole in her head.

She rushed to Qarl’s side, not wasting any second. Walking in haste with her escort to her chamber, she deliberately avoided the crowd, not giving Gwayne a chance to continue their dance.

=x=x=x=x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=

My Dearest Daughter,

After receiving the news particularly your brother and Rhaella, I commend you for raising this concern to me. Gwayne crowning Rhaella as Queen of Love and Beauty may be born of admiration and I shall be surprised if it has not reached Daemon’s ears. You are aware of Gwayne’s lack of interest with politics but with his actions, he is placing himself at the very center of it.

Targaryens are not completely immune to affection and should Gwayne pursue his feelings to Rhaella, it could be turned to our advantage. It is essential to keep Rhaella close keep her away from undue influence that could ruin her. Should she develop fondness to your brother, her allegiance may shift, and we may find an ally to her. She will be better off with his influence than her own father.

Your brother is stubborn and will refuse to play the games in the court of King’s Landing. Do not bid him against his will. You may help foster their relationship in the shadows, mend ways for them to spend time with one another without them realizing they are guided by us.

Though I am far from King’s Landing, know that I am with you in spirit, and I will continue to provide counsel as best I can.

With all my love,

Your father

Alicent threw the parchment onto the fireplace. The fire engulfed the letter, joining the pieces of darkened wood. “Has Lady Rhaella arrived from her morning ride?” She asked her ladies-in-waiting, eyes laid on the parchment that was turning into ash.

 “Yes, your Grace.” A reply came from one of her servants.

Once the Queen was certain that the letter was beyond recovery, she turned around to face her servants. “Have some tea prepared in the gardens and tell Lady Rhaella that I wish to have tea with her this afternoon.”

=x=x=x=x==x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x=x==x=

After dedicating the entire morning to her training, Rhaella was more than ready for a moment of rest. Her pillows and sheets were neatly arranged, and without hesitation, she threw herself onto the bed. Exhaustion was beginning to take over, but she knew she couldn't stay long. Soon, she would have to leave her chamber to visit Princess Rhaenyra, whose babe was due any day now.

Her eyes had just closed when a knock on the door jolted her awake. A frustrated groan escaped her as she forced herself to sit up. “Who is it?” she called, rubbing her temples.

“Lady Genna, my lady. I serve as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen,” a familiar voice replied from behind the door.

Standing up, Rhaella quickly straightened her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame the mess. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror but sighed in defeat; her efforts barely made a difference. "Please come in," she called, resigned.

The door creaked open, and a blonde woman in a blue dress entered. Lady Genna, who looked about the same age as Queen Alicent, curtsied. “Lady Rhaella,” she greeted formally.

Rhaella mirrored the gesture. “Lady Genna.”

“The Queen wishes to have tea with you in the gardens,” Genna announced.

Wishes? Rhaella knew better than to believe it was merely a request. Ser Qarl, who stood near the door, gave Lady Genna a wary glance before turning his gaze to Rhaella. “Tea we shall have, then,” Rhaella said, smiling faintly. “But I will need a moment to prepare. I doubt the Queen would appreciate me arriving in such a state.”

Genna’s lips curled into a polite, tight-lipped smile. “I shall inform Her Majesty.”

“Thank you, Lady Genna,” Rhaella replied, watching as the woman departed. She exchanged a brief, concerned look with Qarl. No words were necessary—they both knew this sudden invitation was more than it seemed.

“Fetch my ladies, Ser Qarl. I’ll need some assistance,” Rhaella instructed with a grimace.

Without a word, Qarl left to fulfill her command. Alone, Rhaella stared at her reflection in the mirror, her brow furrowed in thought. What could the Queen want? What did she know? When her ladies arrived, they helped her dress, braiding her hair and ensuring she looked presentable in the Queen’s presence, knowing full well how much Alicent valued decorum.

When she entered the gardens in her red and black gown, Rhaella carried herself with poise and elegance. A small table and chairs were set up in the corner, and Queen Alicent was already seated, nibbling on a piece of cheese, her green dress blending with the garden’s lush surroundings. Lemon cakes and cheese adorned the table, alongside a teapot and two empty cups.

“Your Grace, thank you for the invitation,” Rhaella said, bending her knee in a respectful curtsy.

Alicent rose, her smile practiced but cordial. “Lady Rhaella, thank you for joining me. I thought it might be pleasant to enjoy the gardens, especially with the weather so fair.”

A servant poured tea as the two women sat. Rhaella clasped her hands together tightly, unsure of how to begin the conversation. Did Gwayne say something to her? Had Rhaella unwittingly angered him? Was she about to be punished?

The Queen broke the silence, to Rhaella’s relief. “It must have been quite the surprise yesterday—my brother crowning you the Queen of Love and Beauty.” Her tone was soft, gentle.

“It was, Your Grace. I am honored that Ser Gwayne bestowed the title upon me,” Rhaella replied, a polite smile matching the Queen’s.

She stirred her tea, avoiding Alicent’s gaze. “I grew up far from Gwayne, but I know he does not play false courtesy like many at court. His actions have garnered attention, along with your name. I hope the attention isn’t overwhelming,” the Queen added, her words seemingly kind, but with an undertone of curiosity.

Does the Queen worry about her brother's attachment? Rhaella chose her words carefully. “Rumors and whispers are part of court life. I appreciate your concern, Your Grace, and I understand if you are worried for Ser Gwayne.” Her violet eyes met the Queen’s, unblinking.

Alicent’s expression softened. “I know how difficult it is to have eyes on your every move, to have people judge your every action.” She sipped her tea, eyeing Rhaella over the rim. “I care for my brother deeply, as I care for you, Rhaella. Navigating the Red Keep without proper guidance can be dangerous, and I would hate for either of you to be caught in rumors that do neither of you justice.”

Rhaella took a slow sip of tea, buying herself time. Her spine straightened as she considered her response. “I assure you, Your Grace, Ser Gwayne and I… we are merely acquaintances. There is nothing more between us.” There could be nothing between us, she thought, forcing the idea away.

Silence lingered again as Rhaella picked up a piece of lemon cake, while the Queen finished her tea. Rhaella knew it would be difficult for Alicent to trust her. After all, she was the daughter of the Rogue Prince, and many at court believed she would follow in his footsteps.

Alicent set her cup down with a gentle clink, breaking the quiet. “I hope you do not find my words too overscrupulous. You are still young, Rhaella, and you have many challenges ahead. I can only imagine what it must be like to be Prince Daemon’s daughter.”

Rhaella smiled, this time more genuinely. “My father is often away, fighting wars or in exile. He may not always be at my side, but he cares for me in his own way. His letters give me strength.” She couldn’t help but notice how Alicent’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of her father’s letters.

“I understand the importance of fathers, even from afar,” Alicent replied, her tone softer now. “My own father is in Oldtown, but we remain in close contact despite the distance.”

The Queen’s words struck a chord. “Daughters often bear a heavy burden, don’t we?” Rhaella said, her shoulders relaxing a bit. It was something her mother had always told her—that daughters were expected to appear strong, especially those in positions of power. Alicent’s father had moved mountains to place her as Queen, while Rhaella’s mother had always instilled in her the importance of duty as Runestone’s heir.

Alicent nodded, a touch of sadness in her smile. “I speak only from experience. Our duties are paramount, and we must tread carefully.”

For the first time since her arrival in King’s Landing, Rhaella glimpsed the woman behind the Queen’s mask. She finished the last of her now-cold tea and set her cup down. “I will take your words to heart, Your Grace.”

Alicent reached out, gently placing her hand over Rhaella’s. “That is all I ask.”

Rhaella met her gaze, unsure whether the Queen’s concern had truly reached her or if this was a subtle warning to stay away from Gwayne. Either way, the message was clear. “Thank you, Your Grace.

=x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x==x=x==x=x=x==x=x=x=x=x=x=x==x=x=x=x

Walking briskly through the corridors of the Red Keep, Rhaella had no time to waste. Word had just reached her that Princess Rhaenyra was in labor. Yet, her thoughts lingered on the Queen’s sudden interest in her, concern clouding her mind. Did the Queen view her as a threat to her brother?

“Lady Rhaella.” If not for the auburn-haired knight blocking her path, she might have missed him.

“S-Ser Gwayne,” she stammered, her eyes flicking to his, drawn to the familiar blue.

“Is something troubling you?” he asked, his voice laced with worry as he bowed his head slightly.

“I—no.” Rhaella shook her head, unwilling to disclose her unsettling conversation with his sister.

Gwayne raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. “Your body is here, but your mind seems elsewhere. Either that, or you’ve been ignoring me.”

Had he been calling for her? Rhaella averted her gaze, scrambling for a response. “You need not worry, Ser. I’m merely concerned for the Princess’ wellbeing. She’s about to give birth.”

The knight sighed, stepping aside to lean against the stone wall. “I didn’t have the chance to bid you farewell last night. You left the festivities in such a rush, I wasn’t able to say goodbye.”

She clasped her hands tightly, summoning the courage to meet his eyes. “My apologies, Ser Gwayne. I had too much wine and couldn’t stay.”

Gwayne scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “You danced quite well for someone claiming to be drunk.”

Biting her tongue, Rhaella resisted the urge to retort, mindful of the secret Gwayne still held over her. She forced a polite smile. “My apologies if I caused any offense.”

“Lady Rhaella—” Gwayne began, but both turned toward the sound of boisterous laughter coming from around the corner. Rhaella’s brow furrowed at the noise.

“You should’ve heard her sing,” a deep voice said. “Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t have silver hair, she’s pretty enough.”

“Don’t forget, dragonless,” added another voice, higher-pitched than the first.

“A Targaryen without a dragon is like a cat without claws. Might be easier to tame her. But who knows?” More laughter followed, and Rhaella’s fists clenched at her sides. They didn’t need to name her; it was obvious who they were talking about.

Gwayne tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword’s pommel.

“No.” Rhaella gently placed a hand on his arm.

“They are—” Gwayne started, his voice tight with restrained anger.

“They’re only speaking the truth,” she cut him off, her voice soft and tinged with sorrow. “I am a Targaryen without a dragon.” Tears welled in her violet eyes.

Gwayne’s posture slackened, his anger giving way to concern. “Lady Rhaella…”

She released his arm, quickly wiping away the tears. “I must go. The Princess needs me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she hurried toward Maegor’s Keep.

Without another word, they parted in silence.

[page-2-ids]

[ID: A flag with nine horizontal stripes, the middle is twice the height of the others. The colors are lighter towards the middle stripe, and darker moving towards the edges. The colors are, from top to bottom, black, dark gray, washed-out purple-violet, soft dusty orange, sof tlight yellow, soft dusty orange, washed-out purple-violet, dark gray, and black. END ID]

Perviotattic: A gender related to tattoos, scars, black eyeliner, needles, lingerie, wicked grins, violent eyes, violence, perversion, dirty thoughts, perverse fascination, possessiveness, kitchen knives, power play, femdom, and just general leather things. It might also be related to the Slipknot song Killpop. Some also may experience this gender through an Eroscoitus and/or Hedoxine lens/as an Eroscoitus and/or Hedoxine gender, though that won’t apply to all users.

The name comes from a mix of per(v) from perverse or perversion, vio from violence, and tattic a suffix for tattoo-related genders

The colors are inspired by my associations with general energy of this term.

No Suggested Pronouns

[pokedogszine]

🐾Contributor S-PAW-tlights!🐾

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Optimalcolibri is a Page Artist with stunning scenic art that's absolutely breathtaking! Orez-Suke is a Page Artist whose style is dynamic and energetic and leaves you wanting more! Pennumbra is a Page Artist with beautiful and bright art that can transport you into the world of Pokemon! Peregyr is our Cover Artist who specializes in mythical creatures and environments! And if their captivating art isn't perfect for our cover, then I don't know what is! Find them here!: Optimalcolibri - Twitter / Instagram Orez-Suke - Twitter / Instagram Pennumbra - @pennumbra / Instagram Peregyr - Twitter / Website

[windsweptfrostbites]

i am THINKING ab(-)ut cr(-)w again and i want y(-)u t(-) see but im already (-)n tumblr n d(-)nt feel like (-)pening disc(-)rd S(-)

cr(-)w is used t(-) being hated. they kn(-)w there's b(-)und t(-) be a reas(-)n : maybe they didnt "live up t(-) standards," maybe they irreversibly screwed up, the c(-)ntext d(-)esnt matter. theyre *used* t(-) this

cr(-)w is used t(-) being hated. what theyre n(-)t used t(-) is being hated by pe(-)ple they l(-)(-)ked up t(-), pe(-)ple they had s(-)me f(-)rm (-)f genuine trust in. it feels wr(-)ng, this time. it hurts t(-) kn(-)w. it *hurts* t(-) be hated

cr(-)w is used t(-) being hated, but theyll grin and bear it f(-)r the safety and reputati(-)n (-)f th(-)se wh(-) still care ab(-)ut them

cr(-)w is used t(-) being hated, s(-) they d(-)nt understand why tricky puts *themselves* in the sp(-)tlight t(-) pr(-)tect them fr(-)m that. they d(-)nt understand.

there's a l(-)t cr(-)w d(-)esnt understand

W(-)(-)(-) RAMBLE (-)VER

omg,, crow lore,, so cool!! <>

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[indiantiquest]

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[jadipose]

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[hiteshmehtasuspire]

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