#we love a sympathetic queen

[duramaters]

still thinking about that time my best friend of 18 years ditched me for good because i needed to sit down at a harry styles concert lol

[incoherentbabblings]

It really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things but something I always found ??? about the Queen Charlotte Bridgerton series is the refusal to engage with why Charlotte and George's daughters were so late to marry and, yeah, it was partially Charlotte needing her daughters as emotional crutches when George completely lost his mind but also George's sisters and aunts were beaten abused and humiliated by their husbands and yes that really did colour his engagement in discussions for potential matches.

His aunt Mary was frequently beaten in Hesse, his sister Caroline Matilda's story in Denmark was so bad she was dead by 23 and his great aunt Sophia Dorothea in Prussia once watched her daughter nearly be murdered by her father during one of his rages to the point where it was the servants dragging him off her, not to mention her repeatedly trying and failing to protect her son from his father too. These were well known and publicised moments, these were not secrets. People knew.

So like... British princesses did not do well on the continent and George knew that was was extremely cautious about where he would be sending his daughters. This is the guy after-all who was known for being rather out of step for how much he enjoyed being a father.

I know Bridgerton is dumb fluff but it's still really teeth grinding in its erasure of George's caution when it came to safeguarding his daughters before he became incapable of making arrangements. And that in itself led to them being taken advantage by older men in their households because they were the only men the girls knew. They never stood a chance.

That's more interesting and heartbreaking than the girls meekly saying they wanted to stay with their mum to be her personal punching bags. Charlotte did need her daughters, and they resented her for it and turned to less than stellar men offering them a way out. Not the other way around. George loved the girls and had seen his own family be abused and beaten. His over-protectiveness led to them being taken advantage of.

Idk. This is just a ramble, but giving the daughter's this selfless motivation to stick by their mother when they had well and truly been failed by their parents (never intentionally!!) I guess makes for a less complicated tv story.

[moonlightrafe]

The Albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[agoodflyting]

Why Aziraphale is completely ridiculous in the Bastille scene (and I love him so much for it)

A while ago I posted a comparison of Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes in the 1793 flashback in Good Omens and I wanted to add these little tidbits. (Because they haunt me.)

I feel like most people know this but IF YOU DON'T, Paris in 1793 is right in the middle of something called La Terreur.

HISTORY LESSON If you didn't learn this in school the French Revolution was when, after years of escalating social tension, a coalition representing the working classes of France revolted against the monarchy, violently overthrew King Louis XVI, and declared France to be a republic.

The new National Convention governing France ruled that King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette were traitors to the people of France because of how they had spent ridiculous amounts of money on luxuries for themselves while vast numbers of the lower classes were literally starving to death. (keep the bold in mind - wealth and class disparities were one of the key causes of the whole-ass revolution)

In 1793 (year of the flashback) both the King and Queen were executed by guillotine for their crimes.

This kicks of something called The Reign of Terror (La Terreur if you want to be French about it). A multi-year-long period in which the National Convention goes on a bloody witch hunt for any and every member of the middle or upper classes who could even possibly be considered a traitor by those same standards.

If you A) had money or privilege, and B) had ever used your money or privilege to treat yourself, you were getting executed. Over 25,000 people died during the Reign of Terror, half of them by guillotine. In fact, the iconic guillotine was used because it was physically impossible to keep up with the sheer number of people they were executing in Paris every single day.

Some things that could get you killed (actually and completely seriously) during the Reign of Terror:

Implying in any way you were sympathetic to the monarchy

Having a noble title

Having expensive things

Wearing expensive, luxurious clothes (*cough* AZIRAPHALE)

helping or sympathizing with anyone who did any of the above

a working-class person saying you were mean to them once

And then there's this bitch...

I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME So we have established that Paris in 1793 is in the middle of a frenzied, state-sanctioned bloodbath in which the working classes are massacring everyone even remotely nobility-adjacent. And in the middle of this frenzy, Aziraphale proceeds to roll up in Paris in this outfit:

How will this outfit get him killed? Let me count the ways...

First off- at this point everyone with even the tiniest shred of self- preservation is hiding the fact that they are in any way associated with the monarchy. The wealthy are straight-up abandoning mansions. The middle-class are plastering over decorations to make their house look 'poor'. The only people dressed remotely decent are the guys leading the National Convention and that's just because nobody can stop them. Everyone else is in 24/7 peasant cosplay or else they are covering themselves in cockades and sashes on to show they're pro-Republic.

Aziraphale is basically a giant shiny white sign saying I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME.

First off the lace jabot and lace cuffs are both associated with the old-school wealthy in the 1790's.

His coat is also decorated in gold braid and silver buttons, which are both marks of wealth and luxury.

He basically looks like he works for Louis XIV - not just rich, but old school rich.

We know it's his natural hair color, but hair powdering (with clay and starch) had been a big trend with the rich all throughout the 18th century to get that clean white venerable look . To someone who doesn't know it's natural, it would very much look like he's wearing hair powder.

He's wearing shades of cream and white, which are very hard to keep clean and clearly states that the wearer is rich and can afford the upkeep necessary to keep an outfit like that stain-free.

He's wearing white knee-breeches and stockings, also called culottes. See above about laundry and how rich you had to be to wear white, but also working-class men wore long pants like this:

A large faction involved in the Revolution were the Sans-Culottes (no-culottes aka we wear long pants LIKE GOOD OLD WORKING MEN). Culottes are specifically associated with everything the revolution hated. That's right - Aziraphale is literally wearing The Fanciest of Fancy Pants in a city where a group called The Men Against Fancy Pants are running around murdering people.

And then there are his shoes.

Oh god his shoes

I could do a whole post about Aziraphale's blessed little white satin pumps and how ridiculous they are.

Actually I might just do that because this is getting so long and I still have to talk about the brioche.

So I can't remember if it's in the script book or if it's from Neil Gaiman's tumblr, but it's apparently canon (?) that Aziraphale was going around in that outfit asking people where he could get crepes and brioche when he was arrested.

The Affair of the Brioches

So... uh... we've all heard the line attributed to Marie Antoinette- how when she was told that her people were starving because there was no bread left in Paris, she famously said...

It's morphed into 'let them eat cake', but the line is first recorded as, "Then let them eat brioches."

While it's unlikely she ever actually said it, the important thing is that... people in 1793 would have thought she said it. It was used as political smear to show how arrogant and out of touch the monarchy was. Marie Antoinette in particular was reviled by the people of France, who thought she was the main cause of their economic problems. That's why she was executed too.

Bread and brioche and the lines between poverty and privilege were a big thing in Revolutionary France. There was a lot of political connotation to what you ate. The French Revolution came about because of decades of suffering among the lower classes of France. It wasn't something that some dudes just decided to do. The people of Paris have been through years of the absolute worst, most oppressive poverty and starvation you can imagine, all while watching the rich throw money around crazy.

So let us recap.

Aziraphale is dressed so ridiculously posh that he looks like a joke parody of a nobleman... and he is bumbling around Paris during the Reign of Terror. Asking people. For brioche. How I imagine everyone looked at him:

It is so astoundingly tone deaf and tactless. He is basically cosplaying as Marie Antoinette and then going around asking the poor for cake.

I just.... Aziraphale. babygirl. no. oh no. You're lucky they even bothered to take you to prison. I am amazed Crowley ever let him live that down.

I have no conclusion other than this. Aziraphale is ridiculous and I love him so much.

YES YOU REALLY SHOULD SIR.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Our sweet sister ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aemond has been waiting for years to marry his favourite sister, Aegon agreed it was the only way of keeping her close of making sure she only belonged to them. But her being given away to a dornish prince changes everything.

Warnings: NSFW, +18 mdni, targcest, murder, threesome (my first), making out, mastrubation, grinding, fingering, oral (both m and f receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, mommy kink, titty sucking, creampie, switch Aegon, dom Aemond and Aegon being drunk as always.

Word count: 3.3k

The early morning rays shone through your window in the Red Keep as your handmaiden finished up with your hair. She always had a need to have your hair perfect, not one strand out of place. With some pins she adjusted the headpiece with the sheer black fabric and green and gold details. Your mother, Queen Alicent, could arrive any moment with your twin sister Heleana, to pick you up for prayer at the sept. 

You absolutely despised it but you could never disobey your mother. You were her favourite daughter after all. She always tried to get close to Heleana but you knew your twin preferred to keep her distance from everyone. Even though you were twins, you didn’t really look alike. Both of you of course had the silver hair and lilac eyes of house Targaryen but your facial features were different from hers.

The door opened and your mother and sister entered your chamber. “My dear, how did you sleep?” Alicent asked as she adjusted your headpiece a bit, at which your handmaiden frowned. “Fine, shall we leave?” You stood up and Alicent stopped fussing with your hair, following you out instead. Strolling through the halls with your mother and sister in front of you, Aemond walked passed giving you a small smile. To which you mouthed a silent “Help me”, he chuckled as he gave you one last sympathetic smile over his shoulder. 

You thanked the gods the morning passed swiftly, for you were already on your way back to the Red Keep. When you reached the door of your bedchamber you hurriedly went inside as your handmaiden stood at the ready for your, often daily, dragon ride with Aemond. She helped you quickly change into your dragon riding attire. You and Aemond have always been extremely close, always there for each other, both the favourite children. But ever since Aemond started to grasp for more power, he started to lose the favour of his mother, her now fully turning her attention to you. 

Your eldest brother, Aegon, had never been much loved by your mother. And because of your maturity and grace, he started to cling to you instead. This was the root of your complicated but deep connection with your older brother, everytime he got scolded or drunk he would turn to you. Now this used to be in an innocent way but lately the winds started to shift, Heleana was more distant from him then ever, his mother had just been ignoring him and his father on the doorstep of death. You hadn’t seen him yet today, so you assumed he was still asleep, you would check on him later. 

As for now, you would take to the skies with your other brother. You couldn’t admit it but the way people were terrified when the two of you flew together made you feel so powerful. Yes the two biggest dragons of the realm were a godly sight indeed. You claimed Vermithor, The Bronze Fury, at age ten and two. That evening at Dragon Stone with your family was an interesting one. Everyone either preparing for bed or still drinking and talking was disrupted by the notice of your absence and the terrifying screeches and roars from the Bronze Fury below. Your mother demanded you to be rescued at once, for Vermithor was known to be relentless and fierce, having not accepted a rider after the old king died. But you were much like the dragon when it came to fierceness, you weren’t afraid. And so when the guards, dragon keepers and your family arrived at the cave where the dragons resided. You stood there, in your nightgown, hand on Vermithor’s nose. After years the Bronze Fury had been claimed... by a little girl.

Aemond joined you in the training yard where your horses were waiting to take you to the outskirts of the city, for Vermithor and Vhagar were both too big for the Dragon Pit. You were both quick to mount and race through the city to get to your dragons. When you arrived, Vermithor and Vhagar were both resting next to each other, they too, formed a close bond, as they only had each other outside the dragon pit. Both of them lifted their heads and grumbled and roared at the sight of the two of you, knowing they could fly with their riders again. You both climbed on your mounts and took to the sky, frightening the shit out of towns beneath you. 

It felt good to be with Aemond, natural but powerful at the same time. You knew his desperate want for the throne but that still couldn’t change how you saw him. By the time you came back the sun had begun to set and you both knew supper would be soon. So you returned with your brother to the Red Keep where two guards were waiting to take you to the dining room. As you both entered your mother wore a disapproving look on her face, she didn’t like the two of you flying for so long but when it also cut into her time with her family she really got annoyed. “You stink of dragon.” She began. “We only just got back mother, time gets away from us on dragon back.” Aemond defended. You took your seats next to each other, Aemond to your right. Aegon to your left. Heleana to his left. Her head down as she mumbled to herself. Aegon slumped in his seat as always, probably already drunk and waiting for supper to end so he could sneak out to his whores. 

There was a tension in the air, your mothers and grandfather's eyes were on you. Only then did you really take in your mother, teary eyed, red cheeks, looking down. Weird. You thought, you looked at your grandfather, the hand of the king, questioningly. “You are twenty years old already,” He began, you still looked at him confused but deep down you knew where this was heading, again. “For 4 years I have been searching for a good match for you, I have tried again and again to match you with someone you could grow to like, maybe even love and yet, you refuse them.” Otto stood up from his chair, “Alas, I have had enough. Your father, sadly, cannot make these decisions anymore, so I have. Now an opportunity has arisen, one that I have been waiting for.”

“House Martell is looking for a fine lady to marry their second son, prince Robyn. I sent a letter a while ago and they have agreed to accept your hand.” Two hands slammed on the table as Aemond stood up in rage. “You will do no such thing! She is a Targaryen princess! She will not be married off to some Dorne cunt!” He yelled, you could only look down. You knew this day would come, where they would be fed up with your defiance and force you to marry. But it seemed your brother would not give up without a fight. 

What you didn’t expect was for Aegon to stand up as well. “My sister is the most beautiful and fine Targaryen princess of the realm, I stand with Aemond. You will not marry her off to some plain man of house Martell.” You were taken by surprise, Aemond’s reaction was expected but you didn’t know Aegon cared so much too. Otto Hightower leaned slightly over the table. “She will marry him, he and his family should be here on the morrow. End of discussion!” He sneered. You stood up and left without a word. You went to bed that night knowing your calm, easy life in King’s Landing was alas over. Aemond however, thought otherwise. 

After everyone had gone to bed he was still awake, mauling over the dinner. In a fit of rage at the memory he left his chambers and almost ran to his older brothers. He could hear the disturbance inside yet he did not care, not when his beloved sister was about to be sold off like a broodmare. He passed the guards and pushed open the door. Aegon's bedchambers were completely destroyed, cups, tapestries, pillows, blankets were everywhere, glass and wine splayed on the grounds and walls. Aegon was standing over a small table that used to hold his wine. “Brother.” Aemond urged. Aegon looked up, his eyes bloodshot and fist balled up. “There is only one way to stop this, to keep her here.” Aegon didn’t even respond, he just nodded. They were very different from each other but they both had one thing in common, they loved you.

You woke up from a restless sleep to the entire Red Keep in disarray, you could hear shouting and arguing from inside your bedchamber and just as you were about to open the door. Heleana entered your bedchamber, hands covering her ears. You knew if Heleana looked to hide with you, it was bad. “What is it? Hel, what happened? Tell me.” She looked at the ground and muttered. “They’re dead.” Fear struck your heart as you thought the worst, her children? Your brothers? “What?! Who is Heleana?” You grabbed her hands and sat her down on your settee. “House Martell, at least, the prince and his father. Qoren Martell is now to be their new king.” You couldn’t help but smile. “How did they die?” Heleana finally looked at you, “They say Aegon and Aemond left in the middle of the night. No one could stop them as Aegon mounted Sunfyre and Aemond mounted Vhagar, they burned them on the Fork Road until nothing but ashes were left. Grandfather is furious as you might have heard.” 

That was the end of a short betrothal between you and the prince of Dorne. It took two weeks for things to finally calm in the Red Keep. But the two brothers' plans to keep you here were not completed. Sure their enemy was dead but it would be sooner or later the hand found a new match so they had to make sure you couldn’t marry. You were sitting in your bedchamber on your settee, in your nightgown, your long silver hair down while reading a book about The First Men. When all of a sudden your bedchamber creaked open, as you looked up from your book both Aegon and Aemond entered your bedchamber. You weren’t allowed to speak to them, for two weeks you hadn’t been able to leave other than to pray by your mothers request. You couldn’t help but smile as both of them entered with a mischievous grin on their faces. You also noticed the guards outside were gone. 

“You know you aren’t allowed to be here.” You said closing your book. They didn’t say a word as Aegon went and sat down on the settee in front of you, while Aemond settled next to you. “For two weeks we have lived in agony of not seeing you, not speaking to you. But as you know, Aegon and I have taken matters into our own hands. You, are ours. And we will do anything and burn anyone to keep you here.” Aemond spoke as he moved your hair behind your ear, placing a featherlight kiss on your neck making your eyes flutter shut. A fire started to burn inside you, heart thumping in your chest and a tingling feeling in your abdomen. When you opened your eyes you saw Aegon looking at you through half lidded eyes, his lips parted as you noticed a bulge in his pants. You weren’t stupid, you knew what sex was and you knew what they wanted and oh did you want it too.

“You, I think, know how we can keep you here. If your innocence is ruined, you’ll have no choice but to marry Aemond. You’ll stay here and have his children and of course you can keep taking care of me as well, right sister?” Aegon spoke, now standing up and moving to sit at your right side. You could only nod as Aemond groaned and moved his hand up your thigh, while Aegon grabbed your chin and smashed his lips on yours. Moving his lips feverishly against yours. Teeth clashing, tongue entwining and hands moving to rip off any clothes that were on you in the first place. Aemond finally had you bare next to him as his hand moved between your thighs, his lips and tongue moving over your neck. You moaned in Aegon's mouth, even your filthiest fantasies couldn’t compare to the real thing.

“Need you so bad mommy.” Aegon whined against your lips. You could hear a faint chuckle from Aemond who now used two fingers to tease your wet folds. “Listen to him, you haven’t even touched him yet and he’s already begging for it.” You couldn’t even speak as Aegon refused to stop kissing you. Aemond now circling your clit with his fingers making your free hands grip the fabric of the settee. Aegon started to remove his own clothes while never leaving your lips as Aemond paused to take off his as well. Both men now in their breeches, their hard ons evident between their legs. The effect you had on them made you feel like a goddess. You had them wrapped around your finger and they had you wrapped around theirs.

Aemond moved off the settee and kneeled between your legs, you looked down at him as he undid the clasp of his eyepatch, the sapphire in his eye socket twinkling in the candlelight. Aegon moved his lips down towards your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and suckling on it like a babe. Aemond started to kiss between your thighs moving further until he reached your aching cunt. Tongue darted out as he began to lap at your folds. You could barely breathe as pleasure consumed you. Aegon sucked and licked at your breast hungrily, holding the other in his hand and using his right hand to pull down his breeches enough to free his cock. As Aemond continued to eat you like a starved man making you moan and whine, Aegon started to pump his cock, eager for that pure bliss. "Fuck- mommy-" Aegon mumbled.

Both brothers groaned and panted against you, Aemond now palming himself through his breeches. He couldn’t help it, he was too impatient. Precum started to leak from Aegon’s tip, he moaned and whined around your nipple. You couldn’t take it anymore, the erotic sounds, the feeling of one brother fucking you with his tongue and the other sucking on your breast while he was pleasuring himself, with a gasp and a plead you reached your peak. Seeing spots of how hard you squeezed your eyes shut. Your thighs clamping together around Aemonds head, which he forced right open before he stood back up. You hadn’t even noticed he removed his breeches as well. His cock stood proud, also leaking from the mere sight of you bare before him.

Aemond eyed Aegon hungrily, also seemingly turned on by the noises he made. Not to mention the sight of him at your breast while fucking his own fist. Aemond pulled Aegon of your nipple by his jaw and forced him to face his brother, before pulling him in a harsh kiss. Aegon made a strangled noise at the action and stopped pleasuring himself to hold the back of Aemond’s head, not wanting to let go of him. Then Aemond pushed his knee between Aegon's legs right against his hard cock. 

Aegon gasped against his brother's lips, you whined at the sight, never had you seen such an erotic scene before you and you were begging the gods to not let it stop. Aemond didn’t stop there but started to move with more pressure against Aegon’s cock, capturing his moans in his mouth. Aegon removed himself from Aemond’s lips for a moment. “Please- don’t stop- feel so good.” He mumbled. Your hand unconsciously slid down your body, touching yourself was the only way to relieve that nagging ache that returned again. But to Aegon and to your surprise, Aemond did stop. Making Aegon whine at the removal of the contact. “On the bed, both of you.” Aemond commanded, and both of you scrambled towards your bed. 

Aemond followed, positioning you like you weighed nothing. Putting you on your hands and knees, commanding Aegon to move towards your head while he stayed behind you. Aegon knew exactly what Aemond wanted and already held the base of his cock to smear his precum across your parted lips. Aemond grazed your other lips with his cock, smearing your arousal around. He reached out his hand to Aegon. “Spit.” Aegon did as told immediately and let his saliva drop onto his little brother's hand. Which Aemond used to coat his cock making it easier to breach your maidenhead. Aegon entered your mouth and hissed at the feeling, somehow this was better then any whores cunt. His sister and his brother sharing the bed with him was better than a thousand whores. 

You softly sucked on Aegon’s cock while Aemond pushed the head of his into your cunt. You whined around Aegon while Aemond sank further into you, a shuddering breath leaving his lips at the feeling of his sister's tight hole around him. He had waited so long, feeling sure that the two of you would be wed but that day never came, and it would never unless he took the matter into his own hands. Moans, gasps and panting filled the moonlit room, it was almost an ethereal sight. Three silver haired bodies becoming one. When Aemond felt you relax and Aegon started to carefully fuck your mouth, he started to move as well. Wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed that would hopefully take root so he could finally make you his wife and mother of his children. "Oh mommy feels so good-" Aegon whined.

As your moans grew louder, Aemond started to fuck into you harder. Gripping your hips so he could move you against him as well. Aegon was the first to finish, being already so pent up and horny he didn’t last long in your warm wet mouth. With a gasp of your name he filled your throat with his cum, fingers entangled in your hair for support. He pulled his softening dick out and laid down next to you catching his breath. Aemond started to now pound into you like a wild animal, it seemed as if he was so lost in pleasure he couldn’t hear or see anything else but you. Aegon however, with a clearer mind, sat up and moved closer to you. Letting his hand trace your body to where you and Aemond were connected. 

Moving his fingers until he found your clit, you confirmed with a moan. He let his fingers rub against your sweet spot adding to the pleasure of your building orgasm. You pleaded for more, and Aegon started to move his fingers in rhythm with Aemond. This was all you needed, all you needed to scream out their names while gripping the sheets in ecstasy. Your walls clenched around Aemond, making him see stars. Aegon removed his fingers and watched in awe as his brother fucked you relentlessly. 

However Aemond’s thrusts were getting sloppier. And his cursing and groaning made it clear he was about to peak as well. With a couple of final thrusts he came hard. Making sure to go as deep as possible, he spurted his cum right against your cervix. Surely filling your womb with his spent. Giving you a couple of lazy trusts he made sure to be completely milked empty before pulling out. Letting himself fall on the bed next to you so he could pull you against his side. Aegon, not wanting to be left out of it, crawled against your other side, cuddling up next to you. What you didn’t notice, was how the door was accidentally left ajar. Your brothers made sure the entire Red Keep knew of your bedding. Surely they can’t deny Aemond his sister now?

[blasphemousclaw]

ok I keep seeing takes that shadow of the erdtree fumbled the hornsent because they made them too unlikeable and unsympathetic and enabled all those “total hornsent death” weirdos but I wholeheartedly believe that the writers have been portraying the hornsent sympathetically from the very beginning. like just because the story spends time on the darker aspects of hornsent society doesn’t mean that it’s arguing that Marika and Messmer were in the right? in fact I think it’s pretty obviously arguing the opposite? 

some of the first sights you’ll see in the Shadow Lands are the scorched ruins, which are surrounded by hornsent grave markers — wooden stakes each with a horn affixed to it, horns being seen as sacred objects in hornsent society. the victims’ shades (by the look of them, ordinary people; farmers, merchants, and laborers) can be found wandering around the Shadow Lands and are often non-hostile; they can be found kneeling, weeping, stacking small stones, or clasping their hands in silent prayer.

there’s a courtyard in Belurat completely filled with hornsent graves, and it’s also the place where Queelign invades you… the sheer number of graves here is horribly sad, and the fact that Queelign attacks here even after all those people were killed honestly makes him seem like an absolute monster

just look at this menace. knocking over the graves of the people he murdered. shame on you Queelign

further into Belurat there’s a very small, missable room where you can pick up the Dried Bouquet talisman: 

“A quaint bouquet of dried flowers, offered to a small grave. Raises attack power when a spirit you have summoned dies. The sorrow that flows from the untimely demise of a loved one is a tenderness shared by all, regardless of birthplace.” 

this description is pretty directly saying like, “hey, these people are human beings just like you who grieved the loved ones they lost, who couldn’t sympathize with that?”

my personal favorite examples here are the scorpion stews, which are given to you by Hornsent Grandam after defeating Divine Beast and wearing its head: 

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores HP. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.” 

Gourmet Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. An exquisite dish chock-full of mouth-watering scorpion claws. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores a great amount of HP. The thoughts and feelings of the cook melt and blend into the stew, but those who can distinguish the taste of love are few and far between. "Partake, partake, until thou art sated.”” 

how can you claim that the hornsent are dehumanized when grandma literally cooks you a traditional hornsent meal made with love!!! how heartbreakingly sweet is that!!! especially with the dialogue you get from Hornsent if you share the stew with him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

we’re presented with the image of a delicious traditional meal that hornsent families used to cook and eat together, and then we remember, Hornsent Grandam is all alone, she has no one but us to cook stew for, and Hornsent has no family anymore to share his stew with. 

before wrapping this up I want to mention Leda’s dialogue about the hornsent because I think it describes the situation pretty well (surprisingly well maybe, given what she’s like): 

“Long ago, Queen Marika commanded Sir Messmer to purge the tower folk. A cleansing by fire. It’s no wonder the hornsent holds the Erdtree in contempt. That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. And in this regard, the tower folk are no different. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. But it’s still a wretched shame.”

the hornsent were not a perfect society. far from it. but no society is perfect, and the hornsent need not have all been saints for what happened to them to have been wrong. no person has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner for an entire civilization of human beings. if people want to take the very worst of hornsent society as representative of their entire population and argue that every single one of them deserved to die then I’m afraid that’s their problem, because the game absolutely does not agree with them

[sectumsempraaa]

Luck & Stardust

Pairing: they’re all in love with you 🤭 x fem!reader (not house-specific)

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo

Word count: 2.4k

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: none lol welcome to fluff city

Summary: With February 14th quickly approaching, the Slytherin boys fight for your affection in pursuit of being crowned your valentine. Some attempts are better than others, but only one can be the best… and it’s one that you never saw coming.

“Don’t even think about it, Diggory.” Theo snaps, giving the Hufflepuff a look of utter doom.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, your favorite group of Slytherins have taken it upon themselves to act as your own personal Queen’s Guard.

Many of the Hogwarts boys are scrambling to make you their valentine, each attempt failing as miserably as the last, not unlike this one. The boys can’t fathom sharing you, and they won’t. It’s them, or no one. Cedric silently backs away with his hands raised in surrender.

Mattheo’s got his eyes buried in a book, keeping his stare down as the next suitor approaches you from behind. His voice is threatening enough, there’s no need for him to make eye contact.

“I wouldn’t, McLaggen, if you’d like to keep your neck straight.” Mattheo says, lethally monotone. Cormac scoffs and opens his mouth to retaliate, but not before Mattheo can interrupt him.

“Neck. Straight.” He spits, absent-mindedly making a fist with his right hand. It’s safe to say McLaggen got the message. Theo and Mattheo share a look, shaking their heads in annoyance.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Draco groans, standing from his position to size up one of the Weasley brothers headed your way. “Try and see how quick I’ll make Fred an only-twin.”

“I am Fred, you filthy snake.” He replies, an uncommon bitterness in his voice. His retort admittedly makes you laugh, no one is usually brave enough to fight back. Draco notices your reaction, a muscle flinching in his jaw.

“I care less about your identity than I do about the slugs you’ll be coughing up if you even entertain the idea of asking her.” Draco says, the tension reaching a high.

They stare at each other for a long moment, performing the standoff of a lifetime. You decide it’s time to interfere.

“Sorry, Fred. Maybe next year?” You say apologetically, giving the boy a sympathetic look.

“Over my dead body.” Draco mutters.

When Fred walks away, you glare at each of the boys, rolling your eyes in irritation. “You know, this is why we don’t get invited to things.”

“The missing out is worth knowing you won’t end up with a bloody Gryffindor.” Draco grunts, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a scowl. Theo chimes in, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Sorry, amore. This is what happens when you’re under our wing.” He laughs, placing a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. Lorenzo nearly spits out his tea, giving the boys a baffled expression.

“You lot are mental if you think we’re not the ones under her wing.” He exclaims, nudging your arm with his. Theo argues with him, listing off all the instances where they’ve protected you.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, mate. You’re literally wearing a bracelet, that you made because she asked you to, with her name on it.” Lorenzo gives Theo a smug smile and laughs to himself.

You shrug to Theo and stand up to leave, taking your bag with you. Mattheo grabs it from you, always being the one to carry your things. You don’t even think about it anymore, it’s just what he does.

Draco walks you to your next class, stopping you at the doorway and turning to you with a defeated look. You already know what’s bothering him.

“You’ll survive.”

“I can’t stop them when I’m in another room.” He grumbles, glaring at the handful of boys entering the classroom. You take his face in your hands, directing his gaze to yours.

“It will take a lot more than a couple of heart-eyes to be my valentine.” You assure him, pinching his cheek before pushing past him into the classroom.

“Oh, if you only knew what’s coming,” he starts, his words dragging on with satisfaction. You whip your head around in suspicion.

“What’d you say?” you ask.

“Oh nothing, love. Go on.” He sends you off with a small wave and a smirk that tells you trouble is coming.

—

The day has finally arrived and you have long since forgotten Draco’s little quip from that day before class.

You’re all dressed up, your hair styled your favorite way, a glow emitting from your face. You clasp a heart-shaped necklace around your neck, laying it gently on your chest.

Upon entering the Great Hall, you’re immediately swarmed with dozens of boys holding cards and candy, yelling and reaching out to you in desperation. Your eyes widen with panic, your feet staying frozen in place from shock, your books fall to the floor, mixing in with other lost belongings.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mattheo shoving through the small crowd, pulling you into him when he finally gets to you. The rest of the boys go utterly silent at his intimidating presence.

“Go.” A single word, yet you’ve never heard him so threatening before, a look like hell in his stare. His arm snakes around your waist, your heart still coming down from the sudden attention.

Neville throws you a small smile and a subtle wave as he picks up his blue quill and his wand, before he disbands with the rest of the group.

Mattheo turns to you, the bitter glare melting into a nurturing gaze. “I’ll really do it.” he says, you have a feeling you know what he’s implying.

“I don’t doubt that.” You smile up at him, grabbing his hand and letting him lead you to the Slytherin table where Theo, Draco, and Lorenzo have taken place already. They give you your space, creating a seat for you between Draco and Theo.

You look down to the table to discover all your favorite breakfast foods laid out before you, a tiny gasp escaping your mouth. The surprise comes to you pleasantly after the overwhelming ambush. A blushing Theo presents you with a cup of steaming liquid.

“Your favorite meal, and your favorite drink.” He murmurs, carefully placing it in front of you.

“You’re kidding. The coffee we had in Rome?” You asked, your voice coated in disbelief, your eyes still running over every pastry and fruit before you.

“Had it delivered here just for you, bella. And maybe I bribed the house elves to make your breakfast extra special.” He brags. Before you take a bite of your danish, you plant a long, dramatic kiss on his cheek.

“Buon San Valentino, cara mia.” He whispers near your ear, taking in the grin of joy on your face. The other boys start scoffing, making disgusted faces and pretending to be sick as they dig into the treats.

“Let me get this straight- you’re asking our beloved and most precious Y/N to be your valentine by making her scrambled eggs?” Lorenzo jokes, shaking his head in disbelief. Draco’s laugh chimes in, earning a grimace from Theo in return.

“Grazie, love. You’re the best.” You hum, finishing your meal and getting up to leave, Mattheo once again carrying your belongings. You run a hand through Theo’s hair, bidding him a gracious goodbye.

—

“Who on Merlin’s sacred earth…” a student’s voice echoes behind you as you take in the spectacle.

“The only one who can afford it.” You respond, your voice full of knowing and awe. One minute you were in the hallway, sending Seamus Finnigan away with another valentine rejection.

The next, you were in your common room, every inch of which was adorned with white violets, yours and Draco’s mutual favorite flower.

You feel a presence behind you, a pair of arms wrap around your torso, pulling your back against him.

“Draco, how?” you turn your head up at him to ask, his grip on you tightening until you’re snug against his chest.

“I’d make anything happen for you. It doesn’t matter how. Happy Valentine’s, you perfect pretty thing.” He squeezes you extra hard, earning a bout of laughter from you. The satisfaction on his face is evident by a warm expression.

“I think they make me look rather ravishing,” Lorenzo appears, a handful of the white violets tucked into his hair. Draco sighs in frustration, the moment tarnished by his friend. “It’s too bad they’ll all be dead in two days.”

You release yourself from Draco’s hold, his eyes filled with anger and defeat. He takes an aggressive stride towards Lorenzo, teeth gritted.

“Good, I can bury them with you seeing as you’ll be sharing an expiration date.” Draco retorts.

“You think she’s gonna fall into your arms because of some bloody plants?” Lorenzo mocks.

You let the two boys fight it out, throwing empty threats and cheap insults at each other. In the meantime, you sit on the couch, braiding some flower crowns for you and your friends.

When you brought one to Professor Sprout after lunch, it made her entire day.

—

Later, your group is sitting in the courtyard enjoying a rare sunny winter day. The heat gives you chills, your skin basking in every second of sunlight.

The boys sit around you in a circle, facing you while sharing gossip on the day’s blossoming couples. Your ears pick up their conversation.

“Yeah, well not everyone wants a damn teddy bear, Theo. It’s not very original.” Mattheo snickers. You find it quite adorable, the sound of them arguing over what makes a sentimental gift.

“Original, hmm. You mean like this?” Lorenzo straightens up while handing you a gift-wrapped box. “Open it, baby.”

Lorenzo may be sweet, but he loves to cross the line, purely for the personal fulfillment of bothering the others. The nickname earns him an immediate smack on the back of his head from Draco, but he only laughs at the blow.

You open the gift wrap to reveal a moving picture frame, the first photo taken a couple summers ago when he was carrying you on his back into the lake by his family’s estate. The way your head is thrown back, and the way his cheeks are marked with sunburn takes you back to a happy time.

You hear an envious whisper come from behind you, no doubt belonging to Theo. “Fuck, that’s a good idea.”

Draco leans his head over your shoulder, giving him a better vantage point. Then, the photos begin to cycle through a gallery of… well, mostly just Lorenzo.

“How are you this thick, Enz? These are just pictures of your putrid face,” Draco jabs, causing Mattheo to grab hold of the frame. He literally falls over laughing, his hands covering his face.

You turn to Lorenzo, a slight embarrassment hinted in his eyes, but proud, nonetheless. “I will treasure this forever. It really screams… you.” You joke, brushing a thumb over his cheek and giving his arm a squeeze, appreciating the attempt.

He mumbles to himself, swatting at Mattheo. “Foul gits.”

The frame later finds a spot on your bookshelf. You meant what you said.

—

After dinner that evening, Mattheo leads the group out to the pitch bleachers and sits behind you, placing a leg on either side of you. He wraps his robe around you, keeping you warm in the February night, leaning your back on his chest.

A sudden gust of wind blows, knocking over your book bag. Draco scrambles for your stuff, stowing the items away.

A stray piece of crumpled parchment lands next to you, your hand grasping and smoothing it out before it can fly off.

Just as your eyes read the words, an eruption of light explodes in the sky, the colorful shards falling gracefully down. The next few are heart-shaped, reds and pinks illuminating the clouds.

“Are you a firework? Because you make my heart burst.” Mattheo says playfully, nudging his head into the crook of your neck. You scoff at the lame joke, shaking your head.

“You’re the worst and I love you for it.” You poke fun at him before planting a kiss on his temple. “This is really gorgeous, Mattheo. If only my valentine were here to see it.”

“Yeah. Wait, what?!” He exclaims, surprise etched on his every feature.

The others quickly look to you for direction as you beckon them closer. “Look,” you say.

You unfold the piece of paper you found before. “I think my books got mixed with someone else’s when I was flocked this morning.”

Lorenzo grabs the paper, then Draco. He stands up and reads it to himself, his face filled with jealousy and resentment. “It’s got her bloody initials on it.” He states before passing it around, each one reading the passage to themselves:

your heart is cosmic fire

wicked stardust

and I am but pieces of you

“It’s… poetry.” Theo remarks, earning a questioning look from the others, like they’ve never heard of it before. “Romantic poetry. From who?”

“Which one of you did this?!” Mattheo yells, giving each boy dagger eyes.

“It was me, Y/N.” Theo admits, followed by a brief and tense moment of silence.

“With no due respect Nott, you couldn’t even write your own name this nice.” Draco drags. “The handwriting is nearly better than my mum’s. Weird though, quill ink is usually black. This one is blue.”

And then it hits you. The Great Hall. The books on the floor. Everyone’s things getting mixed up from the crowd crush. Mattheo’s rescue, the blue quill, and that soft, endearing glance from…

“Longbottom.” You whisper. The name rolls off your lips, bringing you arguably the biggest smile you’ve worn today. The thing is, the boys know you’re right. Neville the sensitive, Neville the sweet.

“Well that’s just diabolical.” Lorenzo sneers, the group huffing and puffing in defeat.

You read the words again and again, every word imprinting in your memory. He probably didn’t mean for this to get in your hands. In fact, he’s probably off somewhere right now frantically worrying that you found it.

So you won’t tell him. Neville: the unwitting valentine.

You fold the paper up, storing it in your pocket. One by one, you pull each of the boy’s arms towards you, creating a huddle in the bitter cold. Their body heat keeps you warm, their heads all resting on your shoulders and lap.

“I love you guys.” You say, meaning each word as you all continue to watch the fireworks above you. Their collective bitterness was quickly replaced by the desire to be near you.

“And we are very lucky to be loved by you, Y/N.” Draco professes.

As you watch the colorful display, the best memories you have with the boys start to play like a film reel in your head.

All the brawls they’ve gotten in for you, all the times you rescued them from detention, all the pranks you’ve pulled on each other and the countless times they fought over who would marry you… and all the times they promised to keep you safe.

The glow of the fireworks reflects on their faces, unknowing of your loving gaze on each of them. You repeat the sentiment to yourself, the altered phrase hitting closer to home this time.

and I am but pieces of them.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[taurasiluvr]

WE GOT A DOPE LOVE, WE GOT A BOND THAT THEY SPOKE OF / TWO GUNS WE DON'T GIVE THEM HATERS NO LOVE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine part one part two

★ i got a some requests for a last part for my paige fic, so here it is!! ★ "girlyy u shld add another part to ur paige fic where reader finally breaks up w her bf and ends up giving back to paige?? (p receives) queen ur literally feeding us rn🙇🏽‍♀️" /// "and NOW i think you should do a final third part of the paige x reader where reader leaves that bum ass boyfriend and finally gets with paige 😜😜"

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. homophobia (from ex), arguing, singular physical altercation (if you can even call it that), oral + fingering (r giving), lovey-dovey sex, break-ups.

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.8k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

you and your boyfriend walk hand-in-hand into the crowded gymnasium, paige's jersey clad on your body. as you made your way to the bleachers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. again, you were wearing paige's jersey, a silent testament to the bond you shared, and you knew it would be noticed by everyone, including your boyfriend.

he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you're really supporting her, huh?"

"mhm," you replied, squeezing his hand. "she's important to me, you know that."

he nodded, his expression softening. "yeah sometimes i wish i played basketball so you could support me like you do her," he joked as you gave him a nervous laugh.

the worst part of that was – you kind wish he did, too.

you found a spot in the bleachers, settling in as the players warmed up on the court. the sound of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking against the floor filled the gym. you scanned the court, your eyes quickly finding paige; she looked focused and determined, her movements fluid and confident. you felt your lips curve up into a subconscious smile as you watched her, and it filled you with adoration knowing how much she loved this sport, it made you fall in love with her even more.

as the game began, you cheered along with the rest of the crowd, your excitement growing with each play. paige was on fire (per usual), her skill on full display. you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time she made a basket or a crucial play. your boyfriend cheered too, his competitive nature coming out as he got into the game.

at halftime, the score was close, and the tension in the gym was palpable. you turned to your boyfriend, who was animatedly discussing the game with the dad next to him. he seemed to be enjoying himself, and you felt a small sense of relief. maybe things were starting to settle down.

as the second half began, the intensity ramped up. UConn was behind by a few points, and the pressure was on. you watched her closely, her determination evident in every move she made. with just a few minutes left on the clock, she made a play, stealing the ball and driving it down the court for a layup that brought the crowd to its feet.

you jumped up, cheering loudly, your heart pounding with excitement. your boyfriend joined in, his enthusiasm matching yours. as the final buzzer sounded, UConn emerged victorious, the gym erupting in cheers and applause.

you made your way down to the court, weaving through the throngs of celebrating fans. paige spotted you and jogged over, a huge smile on her face. she looked radiant, her eyes shining with triumph.

"my god, that was insane!" you exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

"i know!" paige replied, her breath still coming in short gasps from the exertion. she glanced at your boyfriend and gave him a nod.

he smiled, watching the interaction between you two. "you played a hell of a game, never thought women's basketball could be that entertaining."

you cleared your throat, nudging him slightly as you gave paige a sympathetic smile. "babe," you gave him a sigh, earning a shrug from him.

paige laughed, ignoring the comment. "well uh, maybe that's your sign to watch more."

"yeah, maybe."

there was a moment of awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. you felt caught between the two people who meant so much to you, each with their own place in your heart (at least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself).

paige's teammates called her over for a group photo, and she glanced behind her. "aaliyah's boyfriend is hosting an after-party, if you're down," she didn't really acknowledge your boyfriend, her gaze fixed on you.

your lips curved up into a genuine smile as you nodded, and it felt like it was just the two of you for a moment. "yeah, we're down."

"okay, perfect." paige grinned before she turned around toward the team. you watched her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions.

your boyfriend squeezed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. "babe, we have my function tomorrow morning, remember?"

"yeah, we won't stay out too late." your gaze stayed on the blonde before you glanced at your boyfriend, forcing a smile.

he nodded, though his expression remained wary. "okay, just don't want you to be too tired."

the drive to aaliyah's boyfriend's house was filled with a tense silence, your boyfriend focused on the road while you stared out the window, lost in thought. when you arrived, the house was already crowded, music and laughter spilling out into the neighborhood.

you spotted paige as soon as you walked in, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. she waved you over, her smile bright and inviting. "hey! so glad you guys could make it,"

"of course," you replied, returning her smile. "wouldn't miss it."

your boyfriend trailed behind you, glancing around the crowded room. "nice place," he commented, his tone neutral.

paige nodded, her attention shifting to him briefly before returning to you. "yeah, it's pretty great. come on, let's get you some drinks."

as your boyfriend found some of his friends, paige led you to the kitchen where a variety of beverages were spread out on the counter. as you poured yourself a drink, paige leaned in closer, her voice low. "you okay? you seem a little tense."

you gave her a small smile, grateful for her concern. "yeah, just a lot on my mind."

paige's eyes softened, and she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "i'm here if you wanna talk."

"thanks, p," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at her touch.

the evening wore on, and you found yourself relaxing more and more as you mingled with friends and enjoyed the party. however, there was an underlying tension that you couldn't quite shake, a constant reminder of the complicated situation you were in.

toward the end of the night, you found yourself alone on the back porch, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. paige soon joined you, her presence a calming balm to your nerves.

"needed a break?" she asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

"yeah, just a little overwhelmed," you admitted, staring up at the stars.

paige nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "i get it. tonight's been a lot."

you turned to her, the unspoken tension between you palpable. "paige, you know i... i think that, um..."

paige's attention was fully fixed on you now, her eyes never leaving your face. "you think what?"

before you could finish, the door to the porch opened, and your boyfriend stumbled out, his expression exhausted but he immediately straightened up as he saw how close you and paige were. "hey, there you are. everything okay, what's goin' on?"

you sighed, your frustration bubbling over as you glanced back at him. "yeah," you muttered, annoyance taking over. with a scoff, you shook your head and began walking back into the house.

your boyfriend seemed confused and maybe even a little angry as he glanced toward you and paige. "the fuck is up with your attitude all of a sudden?"

"god, nothing," you retorted, rolling your eyes as you tried to push past him. "get outta my way."

"no! you think i'm fucking stupid?" his voice grew louder, anger seeping into his tone. he blocked your path, his presence imposing.

"just let me through," you insisted, trying to sidestep him.

"you've been acting weird all night, and now i find you out here with her?" he jabbed a finger towards paige, who had been watching the exchange with a concerned expression.

"jesus, you're overreacting!" you snapped, the tension in the air thickening. "it's not what you think-"

"oh, really? cus it sure as hell doesn't look like it," he spat back, his voice rising. he grabbed your arm and pushed you back outside, his grip tight as you let out a yelp.

the force of his grip was jarring, and the sharp yank backward sent you stumbling. your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to regain your balance, the pain from his grip making your arm throb. paige's eyes widened in alarm, and she took a step forward, her voice urgent.

"hey, asshole, let go of her!" paige shouted, her tone steely as she tried to pull you out of your boyfriend's grasp.

his grip tightened around your arm, his eyes locked onto paige's as his face contorted with anger. "don't fucking touch her," he hissed through gritted teeth. "you think you can just waltz in and steal her from me? you're a fuckin' girl and you're over here, corrupting her."

"corrupting her?" paige scoffed, her voice firm, her hands raised defensively. "what is this, the fuckin' 60s? are you kidding me?"

your boyfriend's grip on your arm tightened once more, and he turned to face paige, his eyes flashing with rage. "stay outta of this, you little bitch."

the insult hit you like a physical blow, and you flinched, your heart pounding in your chest. "don't call her that!" you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. "let go of me!"

"or what?" he sneered, his grip still unyielding. "think you can just walk away from me?"

you could feel your anger and frustration reaching a boiling point. "god, just shut up! you're acting like a complete asshole."

"yeah, and who's the one sneaking around with this bitch?" he shot back, his words dripping with venom.

"i told you to not call her that!" you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion.

"or what?" he stepped closer to you, his face twisted in rage. "you gonna leave me for her? is that it?"

before you could respond, paige stepped between you, her gaze locked onto your boyfriend's. "you need to fuck off!"

"oh, so you're her knight in shining armor now?" he sneered as he finally let your arm go with a push, causing you to stumble backward. "fuckin' pathetic. you think you can take her from me? you're just a sad, desperate bitch who can't stand that she'll never want you like she wants me."

paige's jaw clenched, but she didn't move. "i don't need to take her from you. you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

"fuck you," he growled, pushing paige back roughly.

"don't fucking touch her!" you screamed, before getting his face.

the aggression in his actions was the final straw for you. "we are done," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt.

he turned back to you, his eyes wide with shock. "what?"

"you heard me," you said, stepping away from him. "i'm done with this. i'm done with you, no more breaks no more... no more of this, i'm done."

your boyfriend stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. "you think this is over? you think you can just walk away like this?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet night. "for a girl?!"

paige stepped forward, her expression nothing short of pissed. "yeah, it is. you needa leave her alone, seriously, this shit is getting bad."

he glared at paige, his jaw clenched. "you think you're so tough, don’t you? just wait. you'll see what happens when i get back inside."

"oh yeah? i'm not fucking scared of you, i don't care who you think you are," paige snapped, she'd had enough of this guy the moment she met him – this was her last straw. "but what you're not gonna do, is step into my fucking place and threaten me or my girl."

"your girl? you gotta me fuckin' with me," he let out a bitter laugh as he took a menacing step toward paige, his eyes blazing with fury.

paige didn't flinch, her stance firm and unyielding. "yeah, my girl," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "and if you think i'm just gonna stand by and let you grab her like that, you're fucking crazy."

he sneered, his face contorting with contempt. "you really think she wants you? you're just a pathetic rebound, a distraction."

paige's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching at her sides. "this isn't about what you think. this is about you being an abusive asshole who can't handle the fact that she deserves better."

the words hit like a slap, and he recoiled, his face twisted with rage and denial. "you're fucking delusional," he spat. "she'll come crawling back to me. you'll see."

"not if i have anything to say about it," paige retorted, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "now get the fuck out."

the air thick with unspoken threats and barely contained anger. you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling torn and overwhelmed. this confrontation had been brewing for a long time, and now it was finally coming to a head.

he glanced at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of betrayal and desperation. "is this what you want? to be with her?" he demanded, his voice breaking with emotion.

you took a deep breath, your hands trembling. "i wanna be happy. i want to feel safe. and after tonight, i-i don't feel that with you."

for a moment, the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of the party still going on inside. your boyfriend stared at you, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief, before finally turning on his heel and storming back into the house. the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang, the noise echoing in the quiet night.

you let out a shuddering breath, your knees feeling weak. paige wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "it's okay," she murmured, her voice soothing. "he's gone."

you clung to paige, the reality of what had just happened crashing down on you. the fear, the anger, the confusion – it all seemed so overwhelming.

"he'd... he's never grabbed me like that before," you murmured, your voice trembling as you clung to her. "never put a hand on me, ever."

paige held you tighter, her hand gently rubbing your back. "i'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered. "now you know his true colors,"

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally breaking free. "don't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "i don't know if i can handle this."

paige pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes. "you're stronger than you think," she said softly. "and you're not alone. i'm here for you, always."

you nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "thank you, p," you whispered.

she pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth and strength surrounding you. "you don't have to thank me," she murmured. "i care about you. and i won't let anyone hurt you, especially a 5"8 frat guy,"

you let out a tearful laugh, shaking your head as your grip tightened around her.

she gave you a small, reassuring smile. "come on, let's get you home and away from all this shit,"

you nodded again, allowing her to guide you back into the house. the noise of the party seemed louder now, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the porch. as you walked through the crowd, you felt the weight of curious eyes on you, but paige's steady presence beside you gave you the strength to keep moving.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

"i'm sorry," you buried your face in paige's neck, the warmth of her bed comforting. the events of the night had left you emotionally drained, but here, wrapped in paige's embrace, you felt a sense of safety.

paige's hand gently stroked your back, her touch soothing. "you don't have to apologize," she said softly. "none of this is your fault, i promise."

you sighed, the tears still threatening to spill. "i just feel so stupid. i should have seen the signs, should have ended it sooner. i should have listened to everyone when they said he was toxic,"

paige pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "hey, don't blame yourself," she said firmly. "it's not easy to see things clearly when you're in the middle of it. what's important is that you're safe now."

you nodded, grateful for her understanding. "thank you for being there," you whispered. "don't know what would have done without you tonight."

"you don't have to think about what could've happened," paige's expression softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i'll always be here for you," she promised.

you felt a surge of warmth at her words, the sincerity in her voice reassuring. you looked up at the blonde, the warmth in her eyes making you feel fuzzy inside. "i have to find a way to repay you for everything."

"nah, you don't have to, princess." her lips curved into a smile. "you know i woulda killed him right then and there if you weren't there, baby."

the petname made your face flush as you smiled up at paige, your heart beginning to race. "not just for tonight... i meant all the times you fucked me good,"

paige let out a breathless at the vulgarity in your words, her own face flushing as she licked her lips as they curved into a smirk. "really, princess? you're gonna make me blush," she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper.

"mhm," you batted your eyelashes up at her, making paige let out a laugh. your hands travelled to her naked stomach, your hand flush against it. "let me make it up to you, p,"

paige's breath hitched as your hands moved against her stomach, your touch sending shivers through her body. her eyes darkened with desire as she looked down at you, her smirk widening. "oh, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with anticipation. "what do you have in mind?"

you grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her collarbone, your lips trailing a path of fire down her skin. "think you deserve a little pampering," you whispered against her skin, your hands sliding lower, teasing the edge of her waistband.

paige let out a low moan, her hands tangling in your hair as she arched into your touch. "fuck, you drive me crazy," she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

you continued your slow exploration, your lips and hands working in tandem to elicit more sounds of pleasure from her. you could feel the heat building between you, the air thick with anticipation. "relax and let me take care of you," you murmured, your voice soothing.

paige's eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you continued your ministrations. your heart raced at her sounds, a surge of desire flooding through you. your moved with purpose, paige's hands roamed over your back, her nails digging into your skin as she struggled to hold on.

you moved downward, finding your place in between her legs. her hand was weaving through your hair, her eyes fixed on your face. you moved her underwear to the side as you licked a stripe against slick pussy, earning a low groan from the blonde.

"fuck, keep lookin' at me like that," paige let out a breathless laugh as she gripped your head.

you looked up at paige, maintaining eye contact as your tongue moved against her. her breath hitched, and her grip on your hair tightened. "god, you're so good at this," she moaned, her voice breaking with pleasure.

encouraged by her reaction, you continued your movements, your tongue and fingers working perfectly to bring her to the edge. the taste of her arousal and the sight of her coming undone because of you sent waves of desire coursing through your body.

paige's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control. "don't stop, baby," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "fuck yeah, princess, oh fuck,"

you had no intention of stopping, your focus solely on her and the pleasure you were giving her. you increased your pace, your efforts rewarded by the way her hips bucked against you and the cries of pleasure that escaped her lips.

she was close, you could feel it in the way her body tensed and the desperate sounds she made. you began flickering your tongue against her clit, quickly pushing her over the edge. paige's entire body shuddered, her back arching off the bed as she came with a loud, guttural groan.

you kept going, drawing out her orgasm for as long as possible until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her body limp and trembling. you moved back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach and chest as she caught her breath.

"fuck, that was incredible," paige managed to say, her voice hoarse. she pulled you up to her, capturing your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss. "you're incredible."

you smiled against her lips, your heart swelling with pride and affection. "love making you feel good," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

paige's eyes softened, and she cupped your face in her hands. "and i love you," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "more than anything."

"i love you too, p."

paige's eyes glistened with a mix of love and contentment, and she pulled you into another tender embrace. you nestled into her warmth, feeling a sense of peace wash over you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"let's just stay like this for a while," you murmured, your voice muffled against her skin.

"absolutely," Paige whispered back, her hand gently stroking your hair. "just you and me, no one else."

the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading into insignificance. in that moment, it felt like nothing could touch you, like you were both cocooned in a bubble of safety and love.

after a while, Paige shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your arm. "how about we get some sleep?" she suggested softly. "its been a long night."

you nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the evening catching up with you. "yeah, that sounds good."

paige helped you settle into the bed, her movements gentle and caring. she tucked the blanket around you, then slid in beside you, pulling you close once more. you could feel her heartbeat against your back, a steady, comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security.

"goodnight, princess," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"goodnight, p," you replied, your eyes already drifting shut.

as you lay there, on the cusp of sleep, you felt a profound sense of gratefulness. despite the turmoil, you knew you had someone by your side who truly cared for you, someone who would stand by you no matter what.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[cdragons]

I'm Yours, But You Can't Be Mine | Dark!Robb Stark x fem Knight!Reader

Summary: The Freys and the Boltons were so close in their attempt to assassinate Robb Stark and switch the tides in favor of the Lannisters. But a knight's devotion to her king should never be tested. Her loyalty always remains true, even if she breaks the heart of the man she loves in order to protect him.

Trigger Warning(s): MDNI 18+, blood, gore, graphic violence, forced abortion, violence against women, canon character deaths (not Robb or Starks), graphic smut, more hurt than comfort, Talisa is a spy (and a ho), Reader has post-murder clarity and guilt

A/N: A couple of days ago, I woke up and chose violence (emotionally and "literature"-ally) ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ. Also, Theon Greyjoy never betrayed Robb in this fic bc I said so - HOORAY! Also, if anyone can tell me how I can use different fonts in my posts, that would be great.

Walking out from the tent where the emergency council meeting was held, you steeled yourself for the information you would have to discuss with your king. With each step falling to the ground, bringing you closer to his tent, the boulder in your stomach grew more and more heavy.

“This is a bad idea,” you thought to yourself. “This is a bad idea and a mistake; he will never forgive you if you go through this.”

But you made a promise – and as Ned Stark taught you, you would keep it because it was right and honorable. Because when choosing between what is right and what is easy…you must always choose what is right.

You stopped before the two Northmen who stood outside your king’s tent as guardsmen. Their postures straightened and appeared as imposing as possible when facing you.

“Turn back, Ser (Y/N),” one guard said. “No matter how familiar with King Robb, we are on strict orders from Lady Catelyn that no one but her and Princess Arya are permitted to enter His Grace’s tent.”

“I need to speak with the King,” you spoke in your best militant and authoritative tone. “His lords and I just held an emergency council meeting to discuss House Frey’s betrayal. I need to ensure that no information is held from him.”

“Perhaps it be best you let His Grace rest,” the other guard spat out. “He had just lost his queen and future heir at the hands of Walder Frey – even if his wife was a spying, traitorous cunt sent by Tywin Lannister. We could all use some time to mourn.”

You snarled and grabbed your dagger when you saw the sigil sewn on her sheath. He belonged to House Blackwood. Your eyes softened as you recognized him as Bywin Blackwood, cousin to Lucas Blackwood, one of the four hundred casualties slain by Hosteen Frey. Taking a deep breath, you tried to appeal to their sympathetic natures.

“I concur, Ser Bywin,” you said. “But you cannot deny that time is of the essence. Three days have passed since the failed Red Wedding, and word has surely reached Tywin Lannister and the rest of the Red Keep of their failure. I fear for Princess Sansa’s life if we do not take action soon. Her well-being is entirely dependent on King Joffery and his bitch mother’s whims and wishes. The faster I can bring our king up to speed, the faster we can retaliate and bring our former liege lord’s daughter back.”

You watched them glance at one another before delivering the final blow. “And then we can all go home so that we may finally properly mourn and honor the lives lost in this war.”

They let you through, and you entered your king’s tent. Seeing your friend lying so still on his cot broke your heart. His chest was wrapped entirely in gauze and bandages, and the memory of seeing the arrows puncture his body swept chills down your back. Grey Wind sat beside him as dutifully as ever and did not even turn his head to look at you when you entered. Like his master, Grey Wind was a beast of discipline and strength. He and Robb shared the same qualities of holding the stoic appearance of a leader – even when the world around them came crumbling down. But here, at this moment, Grey Wind was neither a beast nor a leader. At this moment, he was simply the pet whose mind was running rampant with worry from fear of his dearest friend never waking up.

You held out your hand and called out his name. “Grey Wind.”

His head finally turned to face you. You often wondered if he was more man than beast, sometimes based on how soulful his eyes looked alone. You crouched on the ground and beckoned him to you.

“Come here, boy. Are you thirsty? I brought you water.”

He immediately trotted to you and showed his joy in seeing you were alive by licking your face and nudging you with his wet nose. You softly laughed at his eagerness to shower you in love while also inspecting your body to see if you were injured or carrying weapons. His body stilled, and his fur stood as he stopped to sniff the sword resting on your hip. He took a sniff and bared his teeth to let out a low growl when he recognized the scent of Talisa’s blood soaking the metal of your blade underneath the leather sheath.

You petted him and spoke in low whispers to calm him down. “It’s alright, boy. She met her end – you and I both ensured that.”

A pained voice rasped out. “I don’t suppose you got any information out of it?”

Your eyes widened at the only other voice in the room, and Grey Wind immediately returned to Robb’s side.

Tears filled your eyes as relief flooded your body. “Robb,” you sobbed out.

Before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself to hug him. “You’re alive! Oh gods – you’re alive!”

Returning your embrace, Robb held you close. “I am, and so are my mother and most of our men—all thanks to you.”

But the happy atmosphere became sour and somber when he looked down at your sword. The memory of your hands covered in his wife’s blood as you stormed into Frey’s Great Hall with the rest of his men was fresh in his mind. Fury swirled and thundered inside him as he learned he had been played as a fool by Tywin Lannister. Using one of his vassal house’s daughters as a spy while disguised as a healer so that she could seduce him was a low he never thought those fucking lions would stoop down to, but they had, and he will have their heads on spikes.

His grip on your arms grew harder. “Did she suffer?” he asked.

You looked him straight in the eyes. “Every second until she had her last breath.”

“Good,” was his only response.

“Robb,” you started. What you were about to tell him was cruel, but he needed to know. “I tore her child out from her womb…it had blonde hair.”

Robb let out a bitter laugh and clenched his fists. “So not only was she a spy, but she was also a whore.” He shook his head. “I was a fool.”

You took his hand in yours. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She had us all fooled.”

Robb shook his head. “Not you. She never fooled you. You hated her the minute you saw her, and you were right, too.”

You never once hid your distrust and dislike for her from the moment she and Robb locked eyes, a distrust that only grew more intense when Robb decided to marry her, thus breaking the vow he made with Walder Frey. But despite your skepticism of Talisa Maegyr, you never suspected she was a spy under Tywin Lannister. Eventually, though, you began to trust her after observing her for countless hours.

She wasn’t a Frey girl, but she might be good to Robb. Maybe she would make him happy.

Robb tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Who would’ve thought that your natural hatred and distrust for anything pretty would come in so handy?”

“I do not hate all things ‘pretty,’” you scoffed. “I just have a natural distrust for things that seem too good to be true that happen to be pretty. Why do you think I ran away from you for so long?”

Robb smirked. “But you always trusted my father?” he chuckled.

"Ned Stark was someone who was born into privilege and knew it," you shrugged. “Besides, he was old and fat when he found me. And I didn’t think it would be useful until now.”

You thought it strange to see her leave the feast so early, claiming that she felt ill, and one of Bolton’s soldiers escorted her to her chambers. You whispered to Theon that you needed some air before quietly following them. You found them discussing how everything was set and how House Stark would fall that night. Talisa’s true name was Joy Marband, one of House Lannister’s vassal houses in the Westerlands. Tal- Joy ensured Lord Bolton that House Lannister would reward him for his loyalty to the crown. Horrified by this revelation, you rushed to where Grey Wind was locked up and freed him after slaying the guards that stood in front of his kennel.

“Grey Wind, gather the men,” you ordered. “Gather as many as possible and lead them to the Great Hall! We don’t have much time!” Grey Wind howled before doing exactly as you ordered. When he parted, you set off to find the spying whore. On your way to find her, you slew every son, guard, knight, squire, and steward that came across you.

You found her all right – found her in her chambers getting fucked from behind by one of Lord Frey’s many bastard sons. You took out your dagger and gutted him from balls to the chest before cutting off his pathetic cock. It gave you a sick amount of pleasure to see how his blood sprayed across the room – from the walls to the bed, on the traitorous cunt’s back he was fucking to on your clothes. His body went limp as a massive puddle of blood surrounded him. After watching him die, you turned your attention to her.

“Please,” she cried while clutching a blood-splattered sheet close to her chest. “Please, I am with child – Robb’s child!”

You reached out, and your hand squeezed around her throat as she tried to claw her way out of your grasp. Anger being your drive, you slammed her head against the headboard of the bed and watched as her lips turned blue from lack of air.

“Don’t you say his name,” you growled. “Don’t you EVER say his name!”

You flung her like she was a simple ragdoll as her body slammed against the stone wall adjacent to the bed. She coughed and gasped for air while rubbing her throat – the bruises were already forming. You stalked towards her before she could crawl away.

“Robb trusted you!” you thundered. “Lady Stark trusted you! The North trusted you – I TRUSTED YOU!”

You towered over her, grabbed a fistful of her umber-shaded locks, and forcefully yanked it until her face was only inches from yours. “AND WHAT DID YOU DO? YOU TOOK THAT TRUST AND REPAID IT WITH BETRAYAL!”

She tried to crawl away before you stomped on her hand and felt it being crushed underneath the sole of your boot. Your former queen wailed in agony from the pain that almost hid the sound of her bones cracking. The dagger you used to fill the bleeding corpse was still in your other hand, and you knelt to trace Lady Marband’s pretty face with its tip.

“W-w-what are you going to do to me?” she pathetically sniffled.

“I have – STOP CRYING! I have only one question for you,” you harshly whispered. “Did my king truly sire the child in your womb?”

“YES!” she cried out quickly…too quickly. Your jaw clenched so hard you thought your teeth would break from all the pressure.

“…Liar,” you hissed.

With nothing left to stop you, you took your dagger and stabbed it into her body. Dragging the blade until her insides were spilling out into your hands, you dug your find to find the child. Her screams howled louder than any beast at night, and you were almost worried that her wails would give away your position. But all those worries went away when you tore the fetus from her womb. Pouring water on it, you found tiny wisps of hair…straight, blond wisps of hair that more resembled the color of golden wheat than Robb’s dark, russet curls.

Hearing Grey Wind’s howl outside the window, you knew it was time. Still holding the whore’s limb and bloodied bastard in your hand, you raced to find Grey Wind. If your suspicions were true, most of the archers for House Frey were already inside the Great Hall while the feast was happening. If you didn’t hurry, you and the men Grey Wind gathered would be too late. You managed to locate him quickly and were relieved to find thousands of men behind him as he immediately trotted to your side.

“Queen Talisa Maegyr is a traitor working for the Lannisters!” you loudly roared. “She belongs to House Marband—one of their vassal houses! Tywin Lannister had sent her to spy on and seduce your king!”

You raised the dead babe high above your head for all the men to see. “The babe in her stomach is not even Robb’s! If you wish for proof, see for yourself!”

You flung its body to the nearest man. He picked it up, and you can see his eyes widen and fill with rage before confirming your words as truth.

“BLONDE!” he bellowed for all his comrades to hear. “BLONDE LIKE JOFFERY AND HIS WHORE MOTHER, HIDING IN THEIR RED SHIT-STAINED CASTLE!”

Cries and shouts of outrage and anger amongst the men. You watched with bated breath as the surge of revenge and the need for bloodshed filled their hearts. You then revealed that Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were also in a secret allegiance with House Lannister and watched as enraged spirits filled the men with enough fury to take down an army of ten thousand. The North needed something to boost morale, and here it was. You looked down at Grey Wind. He stared back into your eyes with the same loyalty he gives Robb, and you know what you must do.

With one swipe, you unsheathe your blade, ‘Purge,’ and raise it above your head as the men go silent.

You shouted before leading the charge into the keep. “COME WITH ME AND LET’S TAKE THESE FUCKING FREYS TO THEIR GRAVES!”

Grey Wind howled to the sky, and the men raised their weapons to let out their battle cries as they followed you, storming into the keep. You shouted orders for the Riverland archers to run to the upper levels to take down the Freys perched there. Your king’s direwolf raced ahead and took down any soldier that tried to cross him. By the time you and the men reached the doors leading to the Great Hall, all of Grey Wind’s face was soaked with spilled red liquid life save for his golden eyes.  

You pushed the door open just in time to see Robb stagger back from the arrows piercing his chest. Just when Roose Bolton tried to deliver the final blow, Grey Wind let out a booming bark before dashing to Lord Bolton and clamping his teeth into his neck. Meanwhile, you went to where Theon was held and removed the heads of the men who were pinning him down with a single swing. You grabbed him by his doublet’s collar, yanked him to his feet, and shoved a spare sword in his hand.

“Grab Robb and his mother, and get out of here!” you ordered.

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you–”

“Dammit Theon! Don’t argue with me!” you shouted. “Just get Robb and Lady Catelyn somewhere safe!”

Theon looked at the chaos unfolding around him. “What about Queen Talisa?”

“She’s dead! I killed her!” you answered.

 “WHAT?!” Theon’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

You rolled your eyes. “Tywin Lannister sent her to spy and fuck Robb – NOW, GO!”

Once you saw Theon take Lady Stark and they dragged Robb’s bleeding body to safety, you could finally focus on the fight. You focused your sights on every man who wore a Frey or Bolton sigil and didn’t stop until each one was lying at your feet. The blood spilled from each slash, stab, and chop from Purge soaked your clothes and caked your face. But it was as if a dark ritual had taken place, as their blood only seemed to empower each and every one of your attacks. Before long, it was too late for House Frey and House Bolton. Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were bleeding at the Northmen’s feet, and any reinforcements called were immediately subdued and taken into custody.

As far as you were concerned, the only Frey left in the hall was Roslin—but whether she and the rest of her sisters would keep their heads after their surviving brothers would soon lose theirs didn’t really matter to you.

“I’m alive,” Robb began while cupping your cheek, “because of you. The North survived because of you. How can I ever repay you?”

You held his hand. “I didn’t save you for your gratitude, Robb. I didn’t save you so that you could repay me with titles, money, or lands. I saved you because it was my duty. I saved you because I swore to that night Joffery called for your father’s head, and we named you ‘King of the North.’ I saved you because I…”

Robb titled his head. “Because you what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” you whispered.

“Because you love me?” he softly asked. Pressing his forehead to yours, he continued. “Because I do…you know I do.”

You shook your head. “No, Robb – please. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t say things you don’t mean to make me look less foolish.”

You tried to move back and away from the man you’ve longed after for as long as you could remember. But Robb took your hands and pressed them close to his chest as he implored you to remain by his side.

“That night, after they named me ‘King of the North.’ Do you remember? We were in my tent. I told you I wanted to be alone, but you refused to leave me. I cried and lashed like a screaming child, but you never left.”

This was getting too far. This wasn’t why you came here. “Robb, you need to listen to me–”

But Robb didn’t stop talking. “You just stood there – taking it until you finally took me in your arms and held me. You didn’t say a word; you just let me cry out my pain. Like that time when we captured the Kingslayer, you held my hand when I kneeled in front of the Whispering Wood to mourn the men I lost. You didn’t speak of how brilliant I was or how the lives lost were for a good cause; you let me be me and mourn.”

“Robb–”

“That’s when I knew I loved you – that I’ve always loved you. And then, when we kissed–”

“I’m leaving,” you blurted out, “to Maidenpool tomorrow morning.”

The silence between you two seemed to echo louder than any wind that howled during the fiercest storms. Shock was the first thing on Robb’s face before complete and utter horror took over.

You may have spoken too quickly. “Well, no…technically, I and…a few other riders will be headed to Maidenpool tomorrow morning. We need to prepare a ship for your voyage to Dragonstone.”

“…What?” His voice sounded so broken that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You combed your fingers through the stray hairs in front of your face. Then, you took a deep breath to prepare for the little speech you had prepared for this moment. This was the plan you and all lords agreed on. It was a good plan, and it was going to work. That’s all you needed to believe to convince Robb.

“Stannis is the realm’s best chance for peace. Perhaps he’s too stubborn but needs more people on his council. Your lords and I decided it was best if you traveled to Dragonstone to try and convince him to become allies with us. But you still need a few more days to recover. So, by the time you arrive at the docks, the ship will be ready. That’s why I – we’re traveling to Maidenpool… to travel to Dragonstone.”

“And after?” Robb breathily asked. His grip on you tightened in desperate hopes of keeping you close. “After we speak with Stannis, we’ll come back? You and me—we’re coming back together?”

You looked away. “You’ll be coming back…along with everyone else. But I…I won’t be coming with you.”

“But I…I won’t be coming with you.”

Robb dropped his hands as if you burned him. You were lying. You had to be – you weren’t genuinely thinking about…about leaving him.

“No,” he panted with terrified eyes. “No, no, no, please.”

You cupped his face. “Robb, please understand–”

“What’s there to understand?!” he cried out. “I love you! And you love me – and yet you’re leaving me! Why?”

“You don’t love me,” you countered. “You’re only saying you love me because you’re angry and hurt by Talisa–”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that whore,” he spat out.

You rolled your eyes. “Robb, please. You married her. You took her as your wife and nearly ruined the North because of that choice. Of course, you loved her. And, understandably, you’re lashing out because she betrayed you. But don’t lie to me and say you didn’t love her.”

“(Y/N), love,” he beseechingly thought, “you have no idea how wrong you are.”

Robb snarled like the wolf he was at your words. “I married her because I thought she was carrying my child, and I didn’t want my future heir to be a bastard.”

“Even so, that doesn’t explain why–”

You were going to hate him for what he was about to say. “Because you refused me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his shameful reveal. Robb never felt more rueful and penitent of his naivety than now. The last thing he wanted was your disgust and hatred, but he needed you to understand how long he’s loved you. He needed you to realize that you were always the one who held his heart and sanity – without you, he was nothing, as was proven by the Freys and Boltons’ betrayal.

“Robb, I…I don’t – I don’t understand,” you stammered. Your eyes showed that your mind was running amok with questions and a desperate need for clarification. “Wha-…what are you talking about?”

Robb took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump lodged in his throat.

“That night when my bannermen named me ‘King,’ you followed me to my tent. I kept lashing at you like an angry child, but you never left my side. And then…we kissed, and it led to more. The following day, I wanted to find you – to declare my love for you fully. But every time I got near you…you turned away like I was poison. That’s why I turned to Talisa…to try to forget about you.”

Your eyes widened in horror as your chest moved up and down with shaky breaths. “You broke your vows with Walder Frey…was because of me? You bedded and married Talisa because of me? …I hurt you… a-a-and–” You let out a trembling sob. “–Oh gods, this is all my fault! I-i-if I hadn’t confused you that night–”

Robb could feel you slipping away and continued to try to tether you to him.

“No, my love,” he cooed. “You never confused me. You’re not listening to me. I’ve always loved you, even before that night.”

Robb tried to hold you close, but you harshly shoved him back and stood. He watched as tears continued to fill your eyes, and your face carried an expression that could only be described as overwhelming guilt. Robb flung the covers off him and tried to walk towards you, but each step he took closer to you made you step further back.

You stared at him with a shameful expression. “Robb, I…I was wrong to let things escalate between us. You had just been declared king and were grieving for your father, and I took advantage of your grief and vulnerability–”

Robb tenderly held your face. “No, no, no—you didn’t, though. (Y/N) That night…you gave me your love. You didn’t say it, but you gave me your love, and I gave you mine. I never regretted that night or laying with you. How you spurned my attempts to connect with you afterward—that was what hurt me the most.”

“Robb…” you sobbed his name as tears strolled down your cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted…I thought if I weren’t beside you…I’d also be protecting you from distractions from the war and your duty to the Freys – oh gods, I’m so sorry.”

You put your hand over your face. “Robb, if that night never happened…if I never followed you to your tent then…then, we wouldn’t be in this mess! All of this is my fault! Talisa, the Lannisters, the broken vow with Walder Frey – the North is more vulnerable than ever, and it’s because of me! …I mutilated a pregnant woman and murdered her unborn child.”

Robb helplessly watched as you continued to blame yourself for his foolishness. Knowing you would want your privacy, he sent Grey Wind away to guard his tent. Gods, his father would be so ashamed of him if he saw him now. He watched as you fell to the ground and began to weep out apologies to every soldier who was murdered by the Boltons and Freys at the Red Wedding.

…Lucas Blackwood…Dacey Mormont…Patrek Mallister…Robin Flint…Ser Wendel Manderly…Owen Norrey…And over three hundred other men and soldiers whose blood were spilled that night.

You even begged for forgiveness from the old gods and new ones, for the blood that belonged to Joy Marband that will forever remain on your hands, along with the stolen breaths of her unborn son.

But then the tears stopped…and an eerie calm cloaked the tent. Your eyes were red and swollen, but a spark of mad clarity was dancing in them. Very slowly, you stood with your head still bowed.

“I have to leave,” you whispered. “I have to leave and never come back. If I stay, I’ll only continue to ruin you and our cause more than I already have.”

You turned away to leave, but Robb reached out to stop you before you could take another step. He begged you to look at him, pleading for you to listen to reason before making any rash decisions. When you stubbornly refused, he grabbed your jaw and forcefully turned your head to face him. His crystal-blue eyes were wide with fear and misty from anguish. He had to make you understand that your leaving was not an option.

“(Y/N), look at me—please, love,” Robb implored. " If you leave me, I will never recover. If you dare leave my side, I will tear all of Westeros apart—leaving no stone unturned, no cave unsearched, no village left unplundered. We belong together. You and me – ruling the North, side-by-side in Winterfell. Us, together, spending every night in each other’s arms, with each morning beginning by being greeted by our children.”

He pulled your face closer until your lips were only a few inches away, and your individual breaths intermingled to become one. You want that life with him—just as he wants that life with you. So why can’t you embrace it and share it with him?

You shut your gaze from him and tried to choke down the pain. “It doesn’t matter what either of us wants. All that matters right now is what we need. What matters is how we can gather ourselves from these losses and try to form allies. And if me being here distracts you from that, then…then I need to leave.”

Robb determinedly shakes his head. “No, no – I don’t accept that.”

“Robb–” you tried to reason, but all of your pleas were cut off when he pressed his lips against yours.

And just like that – all words floated away like debris falling into a steady river.

A warm and tingling sensation ran down (Y/N)’s body as their lips met, and she closed her eyes to fully succumb to the sensation. She knew that she should have pushed him away immediately. But as Robb continued to hold her face gently to deepen the kiss, all sense of reason fled from (Y/N)’s mind when his lips moved against hers with gentle and firm urgency. In that moment, nothing mattered – not the messy past, the unstable present, or the uncertain future. At that moment, (Y/N) felt completely free of all worries and fears as Robb’s hands began to trail down to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her closer while (Y/N) wrapped her arms over his neck.

Despite the constriction of their lungs, neither wanted to part. If they could die in this embrace, then so be it. (Y/N) felt every hard, warm muscle of Robb’s body pressed against hers as they began to walk back until the back of his knees hit his cot’s edge. They tumbled onto the cot, and the fall caused Robb to fall on his back with (Y/N)’s soft and supple frame to press further against him. He slightly winced in pain, which caused the two lovers to finally part. As (Y/N) stared down at her king with a concerned expression, Robb thought an angel was with him.

He stared at her flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes with naked longing. Her (h/c) strands tumbled to form a curtain hiding their faces. Staring at the mythic beauty over him, Robb knew he wanted this with (Y/N) forever. Meanwhile, (Y/N) gently swept his curls from his face before trailing her hands down his bandaged chest to search if any wounds had been opened.

“Do you need me to stop?” she asked, her heart beating a hundred miles a minute. “You’re still healing, it might be best if we–”

“If you even think of finishing that sentence with ‘stop,’” Robb interjected. “I’ll bind your hands and take you from behind over and over until the only word you can say is my name – just to show you and everyone else that I could be dying from a cut-off leg if it means I can have you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and giggled. “You’re so dramatic sometimes. I just don’t want you bleeding out and dying before I finish.”

Robb sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and forced her to straddle him. The sudden realization that Robb had been naked this entire time had somehow escaped (Y/N)’s attention as she felt the evidence of his heavily growing arousal against her body. His lips hovered as his warm breath hit her skin, and his low-timber voice whispered into her ear.

“At least you know where this night will take us,” he huskily growled. “Because I don’t plan on stopping until your womb is so full of my seed – it leaks from your cunt.”

He lowered his hands to grasp her hips before trailing them down to sink his hands over her ass. Showing his canines with a lecherous grin, Robb teasingly ground his hips against hers. He rubbed his hardening manhood against her warm core and reveled in the gasps and whimpers escaping her plumped lips. (Y/N) threw her head back as she could no longer hold back her cries of ecstasy. Taking full advantage of her exposed neck, Robb latched his lips just under her and traced the column of her neck with his soft, hot lips.  The feeling of his lips combined with the scruff of his beard against her skin was nothing less than euphoric.

“Oh, Robb,” she breathily panted as their bodies rocked together in sync. “Gods, don’t stop!”

Her hands roamed until her fingers fisted around his dark copper curls. (Y/N) felt her lower body clench when he bit on a pulse point before giving languid strokes of his tongue on it. The contrast between his hot, wet tongue and the chill of his breath when he blew on it gave her goosebumps. (Y/N) softly pushed him back as she longingly gazed into his sapphire-ice pools with her (e/c) eyes and twirled one of his russet curls with her finger. Robb leaned forward and pressed a small peck on her lips as an overwhelming feeling of love encompassed him at her smile.

“I love you,” he sighed out, “do you know that? I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”

(Y/N) wanted so desperately to say it back, but the words failed. Seeing how much his love struggled, Robb cupped her cheek and reveled in her warmth as she nuzzled into his palm.

“You don’t have to say now,” he reassured her. “I just—I just want you to know that. Promise me no matter what, you know that.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I promise,” she said with a trembling voice. “I…I want it to say back. But I just…with everything that’s happened—I can’t help but feel like…if Red Wedding wasn’t going to be the thing that causes us to lose this war, I’m so scared of what will.”

Robb pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “Don’t be scared. I know we’ll make it. We will win this war and take King’s Landing from the Lannisters. And when we do, Sansa will finally be free, and we can all return home.”

“To where you’ll rule the North as King in Winterfell,” (Y/N) mused in a wistful tone. “It feels like a sin to even dream of it now.”

Robb stroked his thumb over her cheek. “It’ll be your home, too.”

(Y/N) gave her beautiful king a genuine but sad smile. “I don’t want to talk about the future right now.”

Robb’s brow furrowed at her foreboding words. “What do you want to talk about?”

When (Y/N) pulled away and stepped off his lap, Robb was prepared to chase her through the camp naked if she dared run away while he was in this state. But she just stepped to the center of the space before removing her boots, followed by her stripping the dark leather breeches slowly down until the bare skin of her legs was revealed. She then lifted her tunic over her head along with her chest binder.

Robb was so painfully hard just from looking at her. He cursed himself for thinking he could ever be happy with Talisa, knowing that perfection was standing before him in his tent. His eyes drank in the sight of (Y/N)’s naked body as if looking away would kill him. He took it all in, from every scar that faded to a pale sliver to every beauty mark unique to her. He wondered if she truly knew how beautiful she was…if she understood how much she had completely and utterly bewitched his soul just with her presence. He wondered if she knew how much he wanted to kneel at her feet so that he could beg for her permission to let him worship her for the rest of his life.

(Y/N) began to walk toward him, and it felt as if the world around them was fading into incoherence, and only the two of them were left. When she finally reached him, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. She wanted him to feel it racing from his touch, from his gaze. Then, she lowered herself until her eyes leveled with his as she sat on the cot’s blankets. With her hands, she cupped his face and poured all her love for her king from her eyes.

“I’m tired,” she sighed. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this…of pretending I don’t want you. But most of all…I’m so tired of pretending that I…that I don’t love you.”

It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders as (Y/N) finally confessed her love for her king, Robb Stark. The man she marched with from Winterfell when Joffery first imprisoned his father. The man whom she fought beside and watched mourn for every good man who fell fighting for him. The man she’s loved since before she knew what love meant.

(Y/N) let out a heavy sob. “Because I do, Robb. I do love you. Gods, I love you so much – not just as a soldier loves their king, but as a woman who loves a man.”

Robb hadn’t realized he was crying until (Y/N) wiped a tear with her thumb. He took his hand from her chest and pulled her face towards him until their lips met again. Wet laughter mixed with tears and kisses made for a strange sight for an outsider, but it was a moment filled with more love and happiness than these two dared to hope. The way their bodies moved and swayed before (Y/N) fell on her back underneath Robb Stark as he hovered above her looked more akin to an awkward entanglement of limbs than an impassioned embrace. But for the two lovers, kissing each other seemed as easy as breathing and soothing like a gently falling summer snow. (Y/N) marveled at how easy it was to kiss Robb. It almost felt organic, with how naturally drunk they became by the taste of the other.

Soon, the kiss became more heated as (Y/N) and Robb grew more hungry to explore more of each other’s bodies. The more heated Robb kissed her, the more eager (Y/N)’s hands grew to explore his strong, muscular body. Her hands caressed his warm skin, and her fingers softly traced the scars that made him all the more desirable. His lips trailed to her chin and traveled down her neck until he had just reached the tops of her breasts. Grinning at how hard she was breathing, he took one breast in his hand and twisted her nipple. A needy cry left her lips at his harsh tugging before turning into a high-pitched whine when he bit the other.

Pleasure coursed through (Y/N)’s body like blue-hot lightning as her back arched into his body, and her entire frame felt paralyzed from it. She felt her core leaking from arousal as Robb’s hard, throbbing member was pressed against her stomach. Deciding that if he waited any longer, then he would likely burst, Robb used one hand to roam down (Y/N)’s body until he settled in the special place between her legs. He then took the other breast and tugged its nipple between his teeth before using his other hand to tug and twist the one previously in his mouth. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s mind was so clouded in lust that she could not feel Robb stroking her clit with one finger before sinking two fingers inside her walls.

“Fuck…your walls are so tight on my fingers,” he huskily groaned as (Y/N) wept in ecstasy. “Such a wicked girl…avoiding your king and keeping this sweet cunt away from me. Every time I laid with that whore, I had to fight the urge to call out your name when I spilled into her. But you won’t do that anymore, will you? You know better to run now, right?”

“I-I-I won’t run! I’m yours, Robb! I only belong to you!” She stammered as Robb began to rub tight circles with his now-soaked fingers on her clit. She thrashed against the covers, fisting the furs on his bed to somehow anchor her. Her core tightened, and no matter how much she wanted to close her legs, his hips prevented her from doing so. As a result, (Y/N) had to take it and continue drowning in the pleasure that was Robb Stark’s love.

“Good girl,” Robb darkly chuckled as he straightened his back and placed his hands on the back of her thighs to spread them wide. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed its leaking tip against her folds. “Are you ready for me to take you? Are you ready to know how a wolf breeds his mate?”

(Y/N) quickly nodded. She couldn’t take the waiting any longer. “Please, Robb,” she begged. “Please take me—make me yours!”

With a single thrust, Robb plunged his entire length inside until he bottomed out, and the tip of his manhood kissed the entrance of her womb. The stretch of his thick, hard member against her walls gave the most delicious burn that made (Y/N) peak from the feeling of how deep he was inside her.  Meanwhile, Robb’s face snarled at how warm and tight (Y/N)’s cunt felt around him. As her walls tightly clamped down on his length, he bit inside his cheek so hard that the coppery taste of blood coated his tongue to prevent him from erupting right then and there. His hand traveled to her hair and sharply tugged it back so that he could roughly kiss her. His blood only further aroused (Y/N)’s lust for the man inside her as she considered it another sign that she had tasted more of her king and another piece was inside her. Emboldened by this action, she wrapped her tights around his hips to further mold their bodies as one.

The way (Y/N)’s body was pressed against his inflamed Robb’s ardor as he pulled out until only the tip was still inside before roughly thrusting himself in fully. Each time he pulled out and pushed back in, she gave him a symphony of cries and begging that could be heard throughout the camp. The slapping of their skin from each thrust inside of (Y/N) made him grip her hips so tightly that she could already feel the bruises forming on her skin as a steady pace had been reached.

Sweat built on both the lovers’ bodies as (Y/N) began to dig her nails into Robb’s skin and claw long scratches down his back. The twinge of pain only made the young king want to sink deeper and deeper into her until they became one inseparable being. Robb tried to remind himself to go slower to avoid harm (Y/N), but one look in her eyes told him there was no need to hold back.

“Take me,” her eyes begged. “Make me completely yours from this day until my last days.”

Upon her request, it felt as if a dormant beast had taken over Robb, as all he could think about was how much he wanted to take her faster, harder, and rougher – until the only word she could say was his name. As he set off at a new pace, (Y/N)’s eyes rolled back as she began to babble out incoherent cries and moans. It felt like there was no part of her mind, body, and soul that wasn’t wholly drowning from waves of pleasure crashing into her.

She was sure the following day, she would do everything in her power to avoid everyone’s eyes, as they all likely heard her moaning for their king like a common whore. But for now, at this moment, she wanted to only exist for Robb and continue drowning in his love.

Soon, it wasn’t long before the familiar feeling of a knot tightening inside her began to coil more tautly as Robb continued to lavish her in his adoration. (Y/N) could feel her pleasure climbing higher and higher until the knot grew so tight that it snapped. It felt as if a dam had burst, and a heavy flood of pleasure crashed into every muscle of her body. The release had made her feel as if her body had reached new heights of pleasure so immense that it became almost painful as tears started to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N)’s eyes shot wide, and she opened her mouth as her back arched into him, but no sound was made. There was nothing that could adequately convey the

Feeling (Y/N) release on his cock, Robb growled as he felt the last vestiges of his sanity snap and lost all composure. He began to increase his pace until his thrusts became rough and frantic to chase his end. He pushed her thighs until they were pressed against her chest before wildly thrusting deeper inside her walls to feel more of her heat. He was able to fuck into her once, thrice, ten more times before his body went taut, and he spilled his seed into (Y/N)’s womb. Her soaked, vice walls gripped around him and tried to milk all of him in desperate want to carry his child.

As Robb felt the last of his cum leave him, a wave of exhaustion crashed into him, and his arms were no longer able to prevent his body from falling atop (Y/N). Panting for air and resting his head in the crook of her neck, Robb turned to rest on his side while making sure her body was still connected to his. His touch became soothing and gentle as he whispered his dreams and hopes for a child with her hair and his eyes to be borne from this night. She tiredly giggles as he delicately kisses her cheeks, nose, temple, and brow while he talks.

He wanted to weep tears of joy. He felt almost…blessed. After aimlessly wandering in a barren wasteland with no clear end, Robb felt as close to peace as the first time he shared a bed with (Y/N). Robb wraps his arms around her frame and brings furs to cover them as a chilling breeze enters the tent, and (Y/N) shivers from the chill. He tightens his embrace as sleep takes over him.

He whispers in her ear, “I love you, (Y/N). We will be so happy together. I know we will.”

She slightly hesitates before replying. “I am yours, Robb. I swear this to you.”

Her king was so lost in his bliss that he didn’t notice the sadness in her eyes and the tremble in her voice.

A gentle stream of light stirred Robb awake. He stretched his arms and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Based on how loud it was outside his tent, it was late in the day. He reached out to hold you once more…when he felt your side of his bed feel cold. Immediately alarmed, Robb shot up and looked around his surroundings.

There was no sign of you anywhere.

Your clothes…your bag…your sword…even your bloody scent was gone!

Robb shot out of bed and hastily dressed himself in only his breeches and doublet to begin searching for you. But just as he was about to leave after putting on his boots, a small scroll had been placed in the middle of his desk. He dashed over and quickly opened it. The instant relief from recognizing your handwriting cruelly died as he read over your words, and he could feel his heart breaking.

Every word I said last night holds true – from this day to my last day. I am yours, Robb Stark. But you cannot be mine.

Also, I plan to make this a...3 part series? Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Please comment your thoughts and reblog if you think more people would like to read this!

Tagging: @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @llonelygoddess, @arcielee, @countrymusiclover, @yns-world, @axelsagewrites, @bre99, @katzoinks, @asongofrhaenyra, @rise-my-angel, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @anewpersonthatexists, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @sylasthegrim, @writingsofwesteros, @julessworldd , @dipperscavern

[marzipanandminutiae]

I have a question, where would gnc/trans people get their clotges in the days before the selling of premade clothes? I assume some was stealing from relatives, and that soem of them did know how to make clothes, but that doesn't seem at all likely to be the most common method

That is an amazing question!

Unfortunately for a lot of people, we don't really know- many trans folks flew under the radar and as such details of their lives are unclear. Legendary stagecoach driver Charley Parkhurst, for example, left no sort of record as to where he got his clothes (especially since he lived in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for many years of his life). And figures like Mary Jones, a Black trans sex worker from the early 19th century, flit into and out of the pages of history so quickly that there's barely enough info to get their vital statistics, let alone shopping habits.

However, my guesses would be as follows:

Secondhand shops. These have existed for a very long time, and if you already have at least one outfit that makes you read as the correct gender, nobody would question you going through that section of the store/market/whatever.

Sympathetic conventional tailors or dressmakers. This is almost certainly where middle- and upper-class GNC or trans people got their clothing- one can hardly imagine legendary writer George Sand buying her suits secondhand, after all. And since humans have always been human, and Let People Dress How They Please; They Aren't Hurting Anyone is a sentiment I've seen at least as far back as the 19th century, I suspect there were far more of these than many people might think.

Clothing workshops catering to the demimonde- that is, to theatrical companies for costumes, or to sex workers. Certainly this is where drag performers got their stage gear, and one imagines people for whom gender variance crossed the line from performance to identity- like Fanny Park and Stella Boulton -might have turned to their costumers for everyday attire, too. And catering to sex workers probably got all sorts of requests that were seen as outre for the time (in a roleplay capacity- most sex workers dressed conventionally while not actively Doing Sex), but their money was as good as anyone else's.

Friends and relatives. Some families knowingly supported their crossdressing or trans loved ones. Even partners who married the person in question as the binary opposite gender could fall into this category- Lili Elbe (though she lived after premade dresses began to rise in popularity) first experimented with feminine attire in dresses and jewelry loaned by her enthusiastically supportive wife Gerta Gottlieb. In fact, Gottlieb was bisexual, and their marriage was only annulled because Lili was a woman now and same-gender marriage was illegal in Denmark at the time.

Also yes stealing from your relatives was also an option, of course. if they were less than sympathetic

The king of France???? this is the wildcard, and my absolute favorite: the Chevaliere d'Eon, when she transitioned in the 1770s, got the king to not only formally state that she had been assigned female at birth (there had been speculation about her physical sex for years at this point) but to pay for her new wardrobe of gowns. Absolute Queen.

"but didn't her mantua-makers notice Some Physical Things?" she's believed to have had some form of gynecomastia, based on her autopsy, and they'd never have cause to see her in less than her calf-length chemise. if they did see anything, they kept their mouths shut, and rightly so.

[sicutpuella]

Midnight Rain | Jacaerys x OC x Cregan

Prologue.

Summary: Betrothed since childhood, Lady Aelyria Velaryon and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon journey to Winterfell under Queen Rhaenyra's orders; however, upon meeting Lord Cregan Stark, Aelyria finds herself torn between her duty to Jacaerys and an unexpected desire for the Northern lord. Now, she must choose between love, honor, and duty at a critical crossroads.

Series Masterlist [Next Chapter]

Dragonstone was silent, as it often was in its brooding majesty. The summons from Queen Rhaenyra had brought Aelyria and Jacaerys together. She smoothed the edges of her gown with nervous precision, hoping to present herself as befitting her future queen and mother-in-law. Jacaerys observed her, his gaze fond as he watched her fidget.

"There's no need to be nervous," he reassured her, stepping closer with a soft chuckle. "You look lovely."

Aelyria glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and anxiety. "Yes, but... I always want to ensure I don’t appear afool before the queen," she admitted earnestly.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. His hand found her shoulder, a steadying presence. "You could never look afool. I've never seen you anything less than perfect, Aelyria," he affirmed gently.

“You flatter me too much, my prince.”

“It’s the truth,” Jacaerys insisted with a slight shrug, his touch tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Besides…” His voice lowered conspiratorially, “If ever I think you look like a fool, you’ll be the first to know.”

Aelyria managed a small smile, grateful for his teasing reassurance amidst the weight of the impending audience with their queen.

She smiled softly, feeling his gentle hands adjust her hair into place.

“Thank you,” she murmured gratefully, her nerves palpable despite his reassuring touch. “Shall we walk? I don’t want to keep the queen waiting.”

He nodded briefly, his hand slipping back to his side as he offered his arm. "Of course. Let us not keep Her Grace waiting." They walked together, the quietude of Dragonstone punctuated only by the echo of their footsteps upon ancient stone. Each step seemed to amplify the tension hanging in the air. Jacaerys glanced at his betrothed, offering a small, encouraging smile.

"Are you nervous?" he inquired softly as they approached the door to the Queen's chambers.

“Always,” she confessed with a nervous chuckle.

Jacaerys chuckled in response, his fingers gently squeezing her elbow. "Trust me, my lady, there's no need to be. The queen has known you since you were a girl. She does not bite."

“Doesn’t make facing the queen any less daunting,” she replied with a jittery laugh as Jacaerys opened the door.

He chuckled again, sympathetic to her apprehension. Queen Rhaenyra could be formidable indeed. Leading her into the room, his touch remained reassuring on her elbow. "You'll be fine," he whispered encouragingly.

The Queen's chambers exuded elegance; a hearth crackled warmly, casting flickering light across the room. Rhaenyra sat at her desk, a quill poised over parchment as she glanced up upon their entrance, her expression welcoming.

"Jacaerys, Aelyria," she greeted warmly, setting aside her correspondence. "Thank you for coming."

She bowed immediately, her demeanor respectful yet tinged with nerves. “My queen, good evening…”

Rhaenyra chuckled softly at the quickness of her bow. "Please," she gestured graciously, "there's no need for such formalities. Come, take a seat." With a graceful motion, she indicated the chairs opposite her. Rhaenyra waited until both Aelyria and Jacaerys settled into their seats before continuing. "I wanted to talk to you both."

Jacaerys nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair, a silent signal of readiness to listen. Beside him, Aelyria fidgeted subtly, her unease betraying itself in the slight shift of her posture. Rhaenyra observed them both for a moment, a knowing glint in her violet eyes.

"I recall the day you two were betrothed," the queen began, her tone nostalgic. "Do you remember how old you were? Seven and eight years old, if I'm not mistaken." She chuckled softly, reminiscing.

“Oh… I remember it vividly,” Aelyria replied with a smile, glancing briefly at Jacaerys before meeting the queen's gaze.

Rhaenyra's chuckle continued, her eyes flickering warmly between them. "You were barely as tall as my knee, yet so earnest and full of curiosity. And Jace, always with that serious demeanor, even then."

Jacaerys snorted softly, a sheepish grin appearing. "I've always felt the weight of responsibility, Your Grace," he admitted with a mix of jest and sincerity.

Rhaenyra's laughter softened, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Indeed, and it suits you well. But now..." Her tone turned more serious, her gaze shifting between them both. "You've grown into fine young adults. Which brings me to why I've asked you here tonight."

It couldn’t be marriage, Aelyria thought to herself, her mind racing with the weight of their impending duties. Their wedding plans had been shelved indefinitely; there was no time for such luxuries amidst the looming threat of war.

So, what could it be?

Rhaenyra's gaze shifted between them, the gravity of her expression clear. "As you are both aware," she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority, "The realm braces itself for war. The greens have made their move, and conflict now seems inevitable."

The atmosphere in the room grew dense, the seriousness of their conversation pressing down upon them. Jacaerys and Aelyria sat upright in their chairs, fully attentive to their queen.

“I want both of you to ride north,” Rhaenyra declared.

Jacaerys furrowed his brow in confusion. "North?" he echoed, trying to grasp the queen's directive. "To the north? But why?"

Leaning forward, Rhaenyra's eyes hardened with resolve, yet tempered with understanding. "The north possesses vital resources—men, lands, grain," she explained, each word deliberate. "We need these resources to ensure our victory in the coming conflict. It falls upon both of you to secure them for us."

“My Queen, do you mean for us to negotiate with the Starks?” Aelyria asked, seeking clarification.

Rhaenyra nodded firmly. “Precisely. You will journey to Winterfell and parley with Lord Stark. I trust you to secure his allegiance and that of the north to our cause.”

“But, Your Grace," Jacaerys interjected cautiously, "Wouldn’t it be more prudent for you to engage Lord Stark directly?”

Rhaenyra's gaze sharpened, her response unwavering. "That is precisely why I have chosen you, Prince Jacaerys," she affirmed firmly. "The north values strength and directness. They do not respond well to subtleties and courtly politics. As a prince and a symbol of our strength, your presence will carry weight. And perhaps," she added with a meaningful pause, "your company will sweeten the deal."

She turned to Aelyria next, acknowledging the practicality of her youth. “And Lord Stark may find your youthful spirit more relatable in negotiations. Your sincerity will be an asset."

Aelyria nodded solemnly, fully comprehending the queen's strategic plan.

"Good," Rhaenyra acknowledged with a nod, her attention now focusing on Aelyria. "Your presence alongside the prince will serve as a gesture of goodwill. Moreover, Lord Stark, being without heirs, will likely appreciate seeing a young face."

Jacaerys glanced at Aelyria, surprise mingling with concern on his features. "You expect me to bring Aelyria?" he queried, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Rhaenyra arched an eyebrow, a a hint of amusement crossing her expression. "Is that a concern, Prince Jacaerys?" she replied pointedly. "Aelyria is your betrothed. As you undertake the task of securing the north's allegiance, it is only fitting that she accompanies you."

“I see the wisdom in that, Your Grace,” Aelyria interjected, speaking up in support. “Presenting ourselves as a young couple may indeed strengthen our diplomatic efforts in the north. Am I correct in my understanding?”

The queen's smile widened subtly. “Well said, my dear," she affirmed. "Your interpretation is spot on. It will demonstrate to the north that we are not just seasoned rulers but also embody the vigor and unity of a strong realm."

Rhaenyra turned her gaze back to Jacaerys, her eyebrow raised expectantly. “Do you have any objections, Prince?”

Jacaerys hesitated briefly, weighing his thoughts before responding carefully. “No, Your Grace,” he replied earnestly. “I simply… worry for Aelyria. The north is harsh, and the journey fraught with peril.”

“My prince, I assure you," Aelyria reassured him with a calm confidence. "I am an adept rider, and I will be vigilant."

Jacaerys turned to his betrothed, his expression a blend of concern and determination. "I know you're capable, Aely," he murmured, his voice softening. "But the North poses unique challenges. Its roads are perilous, its weather harsh. I can't bear the thought of any harm coming to you."

“I cannot remain confined here forever…” Aelyria met Jace’s gaze, her voice steady. “I too wish to fulfill our duty to our families.”

Jacaerys held her gaze, conflicted emotions flickering in his eyes. He wanted to shield her from danger, to keep her safe within Dragonstone’s walls. Yet, deep down, he understood their obligation. He knew Aelyria's strength and resolve.

Finally, he exhaled heavily, his expression resigned. "I understand," he admitted quietly. "But my concern remains."

Rhaenyra observed their exchange with a fond smile, touched by their mutual care. “You two are as endearing as ever,” she remarked, her tone gentle yet authoritative. “But you are both grown now, and in times of war, appearances matter. The North must see that you, as the future rulers of the Seven Kingdoms, are capable and steadfast.”

Aelyria nodded in agreement with the queen’s assessment.

Rhaenyra’s smile widened, gratified by Aelyria’s understanding. “Good,” she nodded, then shifted her focus to Jacaerys. “Now, pay heed to my words. The North differs vastly from the South. Their customs, their people, their ways…” She paused, her demeanor turning serious. “You must respect and honor their traditions. You are not merely royal figures, but emissaries of the crown.”

"Remember, winning the North's support hinges on respect," Rhaenyra emphasized, ensuring they grasped the importance. "Immerse yourselves in their culture, forge connections with their leaders, and demonstrate that the Iron Throne is not distant but a steadfast ally they can trust and rally behind."

Evening settled over Dragonstone, casting a soft glow through the windows of Aelyria's chamber. Jacaerys sat beside her at the vanity, quietly observing as she brushed her silver hair.

“I’ve readied five furs... how many have you packed?” Aelyria inquired, turning to him with a curious gaze.

He snorted softly, a playful glint in his eyes as he watched her. "Five furs? You'll be swaddled like a bear before we even reach the North," he teased lightly. "I've only packed three."

“I refuse to freeze; I don’t want to wear the same cloak,” she insisted with a sigh.

Jacaerys chuckled, amused by her determination as he leaned back against the wall. "You’ll have to wear a cloak more than once," he reminded her gently. "It's a long journey ahead."

“I know…” Aelyria sighed softly, her concern evident.

He couldn't help but find her worry endearing, a testament to her meticulous nature. Pushing off from the wall, he approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered reassuringly, "You'll be warm. I won't let you freeze, I promise."

“Have you finished packing?” she asked, leaning into his embrace.

He chuckled again, his embrace tightening around her. "Almost," he admitted, feeling content with her closeness. "Just a few more things. And you?"

He chuckled softly once more, his fingers gently combing through her silver hair. "Your hair will be fine, Aely," he assured her softly. "And even if it rebels against the cold, I'll still think you're the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

She rolled her eyes playfully as Jacaerys planted a kiss on her cheek.

"No need to roll your eyes," he teased, his lips trailing from her cheeks down to her neck. "I mean it. You could be covered head-to-toe in snow and I'd still think you were the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

His kisses lingered, igniting a warmth that spread through her as his arms enveloped her. They stood entwined for a moment, lost in each other’s embrace, until he reluctantly pulled back, his breath caressing her ear.

"I suppose we should finish packing," he murmured, his hands reluctant to leave her hips.

She rubbed her thighs together suggestively, a plea in her gesture.

“Can’t it wait, my dear?” She smiled.

He chuckled, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. The temptation was strong, but they had a journey ahead and preparations to complete.

"We shouldn't delay, my love," he whispered, his hands tracing comforting circles on her hips. "We must ensure we're fully prepared."

“Just a few minutes?” she implored, her hands running up and down his arms.

His resolve faltered under her touch, her gentle hands evoking a longing in him. He hesitated, knowing their time alone would be scarce once they embarked.

"A few minutes?" he repeated, his voice husky. "Last time we said 'just a few minutes'..." He noticed her subtle movement, her thighs pressing together in silent entreaty.

“Please? We won’t have much time alone once we’re flying.”

Her plea, coupled with the sight of her desire, melted his resistance completely.

With a low groan, he surrendered. "You're relentless," he murmured, his grip on her hips tightening. "Alright. A few minutes... but then we must finish packing."

The kiss began slowly—a tender meeting of their lips—but it quickly escalated into something more demanding; their bodies pressed tightly against each other, hands roaming, exploring. He leaned her back against the edge of the vanity, trapping her between the wood and his body. A low moan escaped from his throat as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. For a few heated moments, they lost themselves in each other, the world outside their small corner of the room forgotten.

After what seems to be definitely not a few minutes, he slowly pulled back from her, a dreamy and satisfied expression on his face. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing still a bit irregular. He took a moment to regain his bearings, his eyes roaming over her, taking in her slightly flushed cheeks and messy hair.

"You..." he began, his voice a little huskier than usual. "You're a menace, you know that?"

“Have I been getting better, my prince?” she smiled mischievously.

He chuckled, his eyes narrowing in mock disapproval. "You've gotten too good," he admitted, his tone half-teasing, half-adoring. "I'm afraid you're going to be the death of me. One of these days, I'll end up being late for a council meeting or something because... well, let's just say you're very... distracting."

“Do you think people know that we…”

He chuckled again, a smirk spreading across his face. "They probably suspect," he responded. "After all, how often do betrothed couples go to each other's rooms without an escort? And with how often your handmaiden has to fix your hair and adjust your dress...?"

He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But they probably don't know the specifics. And definitely not how often... or how... well, you distracted me."

“It’s not really improper if we are to wed soon,” she smiled.

He chuckled again, enjoying the lightheartedness of their banter. "I suppose you're right," he admitted. "As future rulers, we are afforded a bit of leeway. But it's still... not exactly proper, to be so intimate before the marriage."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his hand gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "But I don't mind," he said, his voice quieter now. "I find it... hard to resist you."

She giggled. “As do I, my dear.”

He smiled at her giggle, the sound never failing to make his heart flutter. "We're quite the pair, then," he remarked, his thumb running gently over her jawline. "Two rulers-to-be, hopelessly attracted to each other, unable to keep our hands off each other."

“We should sleep, my dear… you’ll sleep beside me?”

He nodded, his expression softening. "Of course I'll sleep beside you," he replied, his voice quieter now. "I always sleep beside you, don't I?"

He pulled back the covers and climbing underneath them. He then looked at her expectantly, patting the empty space beside him. "Come on, my lady. Let's get some sleep."

“Good. I thought maybe you’d snuggle next to your mother,” she teased.

He snickered, amused by her teasing. "Ah yes, there's nothing more comforting than snuggling with your mother," he jested, rolling his eyes playfully. "But I suppose... you'll do."

He moved over on the bed, making room for her. "Come here," he said, patting the empty space again. "And watch it with the teasing, or I might change my mind and go spend the night with my mother instead."

All photos sourced through Pinterest, dividers made by @cafekitsune

Next Chapter

[alicentral]

This is a response to a hotd critical post about the "favouritism towards Greens in screen time ratio", and I think it's so interesting how team black also feel like they're being fucked over by the showrunners when, to me, it's blindingly obvious that it's the other way round.

Not only are the show runners villainising the greens, not the blacks, they've also gone out of their way to make the blacks seem like the badass heroes who can do no wrong, and this is the root of the problem for both team black and team green. It oversimplifies the dance and goes against the themes and message of the whole book, rendering the characters either inconsistent, one-dimensional, and worst of all, flat and boring.

Lets start off with the greens. The argument that the showrunners are "gagging on the greens" doesn't hold up when we actually think about it for more than 2 seconds.

With the source material of hotd being a fictional history book with different biases and perspectives (emphasis on different perspectives), the showrunners have cherry picked what to adapt, and have chosen to take the worst of the greens as the objective truth and erase their good moments as "green propaganda". The main example that comes to mind is aegon. Plenty of other people have talked about this in depth before, but in f&b, aegon raping a girl was a rumour spread by mushroom, a narrator with a clear black bias who wasn't even in kings landing at the time. There was no reason in adapting this rumour other than to demonise aegon, and by extension, team green. The way the scene is framed, it is clear that it was never about dyana, how the rape affected her mentally, emotionally, socially, physically. For a supposedly feminist show, dyana's rape was a throwaway scene, it never had any impact on the story further. So what was the point of the scene other than to tell the audience "look at what a monster aegon is. How can you support someone like that?" And it works.

You can see on social media, any time there's something vaguely positive about the greens, you have hoards of people comment "yeah but he's a rapist" "how can you support a rapist?", etc. It forces you to side with team black. Later in the show, the audience gets to know that aegon's dick burst "like a sausage". Why would the audience need to know this? Aegon's mutilated dick is presented as "karma" for dyana and is only meant to humiliate him. And again, after this revelation, so many people on social media were making fun of his "burnt sausage". They've made a laughingstock of aegon, and as the figurehead of team green, it's clear that we're not meant to side with team green.

Furthermore, in bastardising, and sometimes, even completely erasing the relationships between team green, the showrunners have dehumanised them and made them irredeemable villains, because, again, we were never meant to side with those who "usurped the rightful queen".

The loyalty and commitment the greens had to one another made them such compelling characters and heavily shaped their central motivations and actions. Aegon only took the crown to protect his family. Aemond, after rooks rest, never called himself a king, only lord protecter even though he knows he would've made a better king than aegon. Daeron torched the riverlands to get to his mother and sister and sacked bitterbridge as revenge for his nephew. Helaena offered up her life for her son, and chose to sacrifice maelor because she knew he wouldn't understand what was happening. Their actions may not be necessarily good (and in daeron's case, actually happen to be war crimes), and their motivations may be morally grey, but they're understandable, they're sympathetic, seeing as it was out of love and loyalty, something that 21st century society can relate to. Without these complex and compelling ties, the audience is left asking why would the greens stick together if they all seemingly can't stand each other? Why fight for aegon if he doesn't even seem to care for them? What was the point in having the crown then? As a result, the characterisations feel one-dimensional (helaena being reduced to being just an "innocent" amidst her bloodthirsty family) or inconsistent (alicent. just her entire story arc. it could've been interesting if done right, but alas, no such luck), or rushed (suddenly aemond wants to be king in his own right after defending his brother's claim at storms end).

This isn't to say that team green are perfect, far from it, but the close emotional ties and relationships could've been used to elevate the internal conflicts in the show. We could've had complex characters who aren't necessarily good, but they're family and they stick together despite their personal grievances.

And this isn't even mentioning their bonds with their dragons. Where was vhagar roaring when aemond's eye was cut out? Aegon and sunfyre had the closest bond between dragon and human and that was given to rhaenyra in the show and where is dreamfyre?

One last thing on the greens, they are presented as incompetent and not equipped to rule, which is meant to show how it would be oh so much better if rhaenyra was on the throne. Criston parading meleys' head is framed as stupid as meleys was "a beloved dragon", ignoring the fact that she murdered hundreds of smallfolk at the coronation. Alicent is presented as stupid for thinking that after rooks rest, the small council would appoint her the queen, aegon in the small council was meant to be laughed at. Of course, this begs the question, if the greens were meant to be a mess of a faction with only 3 functioning dragons and now 2 effective dragon riders, how did they hold out against the blacks for so long? It's clear that the showrunners haven't thought this through.

So yeah, i don't really understand what this person was trying to say when they say that the showrunners are "gagging on the greens" when they are demonised, humiliated and stripped of compassion. I would like to say here, nothing i've said about the greens here is new to team green fans, and so many more people have gone into more depth about this.

Lets move onto the blacks. In a conflict where no side was meant to be in the right (who has the right to rule is a beast for another day), where there were no winners, only losers, where a dynastic dispute almost tore down the entire aforementioned dynasty, the blacks are framed as the heroes, the side the audience should root for. If they come off as villainised to the audience, i don't think it was done on purpose.

Opposite to the greens, they're mistakes and flaws are glossed over. I think this is the main reason why team black falls flat as opposed to lack of screen time, which i don't really want to count.

An important example of this is blood and cheese. In f&b, blood and cheese was a horrific event which drove queen helaena mad and, importantly, was meant to murder one of aegon and helaena's sons in revenge for lucerys. A son for a son. It was always meant to be jaehaerys. By making blood and cheese all one big mistake in the show, with aemond as the real target and oops, we can't find him so jaehaerys will do, team black and rhaenyra can't be held accountable for the murder of an innocent 6 year old boy. Moreover, the fact that rhaenyra never knew or sanctioned the murder, and it was all daemon going rogue, rhaenyra is even further removed from the horrific murder of a child, because, of course, our heroine can't be responsible for anything bad, she's meant to be the one in the right!

Furthermore, condal and hess try to force the smallfolk's love of rhaenyra during the dance, contrary to the book, which serves to uphold rhaenyra's right to the throne and show how team black are the right side. During the blockade on kings landing, the smallfolk conveniently forget that she's the one causing the blockade when she sends food through (showing that she could've done that at any time). The cheering for rhaenyra and the riot makes no sense, as again, she was the one who caused the blockade in the first place.

The introduction of the prophecy also is only meant to justify any "wrong" rhaenyra and team black do. The death of the dragonseeds and the smallfolk were all in the name of a prophecy so it's ok. And this is the thing which infuriates me the most, because the prophecy could've been a fascinating aspect of team black's motivations if framed right. The idea of committing atrocities in the name of a believed divine, higher purpose could've been used to expand upon team black's character growth and internal conflict vis a vis the knights templar and the crusades. How do they feel about this? Are they even aware of what they're doing? Alas, the show itself buys into the prophecy, buys into the divine purpose and suddenly, the atrocities aren't presented as "that bad" anyways. All of that to say, the show has never intentionally villainised team black.

So we've established that as the heroes, team black can't do anything wrong, and if they do, it's for a higher purpose, so it's alright. Team black's "emotions and conflicts are made secondary" not to "disposable filler scenes of Greens", but to themselves, or rather, to rhaenyra and her right to rule. So many team black scenes were used to uplift rhaenyra to show how she is the rightful queen. The main two examples of this that stick out to me is baela rebuking jace when he rightfully questions rhaenyra's decisions and daemon's whole harrenhal arc, which serves as his redemption and so he can reaffirm his commitment to rhaenyra's right to rule. Of course it's going to be "a bore" if the main characters, the ones we're meant to be cheering haven't got anything going for them except for cheering on rhaenyra.

There's no character interaction, no character growth, no real internal conflict because from the beginning, team black has been presented as in the right and can do no wrong, so there's no room to grow, no room to develop, not because of lack of screen time. When character development almost breaks through (see: jace questioning rhaenyra), it's quickly quashed, because the audience needs to be reminded that rhaenyra is always right. There's a clear good and bad side that the show is trying to force, which doesn't work in this setting because it reinforces the idea of the divine right of kings, the idea that one person, one family is superior to all others, and that person is rhaenyra here. It undermines the idea that no one was in the right for the atrocities they committed. No one can be justified and that fundamentally, these are not good people, they're interesting characters (or could've been interesting characters), but they're not good people.

So why? Why are the blacks presented as the good side and the greens presented as evil? It all comes down to the fact that the showrunners have propagated the idea that the dance is about a woman's struggle to rule in the face of misogyny, rather than the decline of house targaryen due to their belief in targaryen exceptionalism or the consequences of the pursuit of power. Sure, feminism and misogyny is one aspect of the dance, but it's not a major driving factor. The showrunners have backed themselves into a corner here, because they trying to portray the dance through a modern feminist lens, and so they believe that they can't write women being flawed or evil, and so we get the free, liberated good side and the "misogynistic", conservative bad side.

So in conclusion, it is clear that the showrunners aren't villainising the blacks as this person believes, but the greens. In doing this, they've made a clear cut good and bad side which works to the detriment of both team black and team green. It leads team green's characterisation to be inconsistent and one-dimensional and it chokes team black from having character growth.

Listen, i don't know if team black truly have less screen time than team green, but if they do, it's not the reason why team black falls flat.

[the-muppet-joker]

could you elaborate on your choices for the 4 horsemen for the ponies? i’m deeply curious about your wisdom and insight

Very well.

Famine = Luna

Both are black horses

When Nightmare Moon takes over, there is no sun. Crops cannot grow under these conditions. Her reign is a reign of famine and no harvest.

Additionally, in the episode Cutie Re-Mark, it is shown that under Nightmare Moon's domain, Timberwolves roam free. While they are not directly tied to famine, they have symbolism regarding Harvest as they are known to howl at the first zap apple and attack those who try to harvest them if they are nearby, hindering people's ability to gather fruit.

War = Cadance

Naturally, a pony red with the blood of those slain in war is generally not marketable to little girls, who are unfamiliar with bloodlust and afraid of violence. They settled for a close second: pink.

She is the princess of love. Are you familiar with the phrase "all is fair in love and war?" Wars are acts of passion and bloodshed. Passion? Blood? Both symbolically related to the Heart. And what is her cutie mark as well as the sacred object that gives power to her kingdom? The Crystal Heart.

The Crystal Kingdom, Cadance's kingdom, is frequently under threat of was throughout the series. Queen Crysalis and the Changelings. Sombra. Again, in the episode Cutie Re-Mark, we see a timeline im which Sombra had won. And what is the state of Equestria? A mirror fucking image of how other countries in real life are affected by war. We literally have soldiers Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash and we see Apple Jack working tirelessly to ship out apple mush to feed soldiers for the war effort. This parallel is so clear and frankly I could go on.

Conquest = Celestia

Yes I know the image says strife. I wanted the pictures to be in a consistant style and they used the word strife but it says conquest in the Bible. Anyways, they are both white horses.

I mean. Do I need to spell it out? Celestia is an imperialist. She spreads her and her nation's influence and ideology as far as she is able. Cadance is installed as the leader of the Crystal Empire under her direction. They have conflict with the changelings, so they promote a leader more sympathetic to their nation. The school of friendship? Teaching other species the way to act and behave? Are non-ponies unfamiliar with friendship? Propoganda. And she is the Princess of the Sun. THE SUN. NEVER. SETS. ON. EQUESTRIA'S. EMPIRE. Sound familiar?

Do not make an enemy of Celestia or you will be punished and then brainwashed into submission. Luna? The moon. Discord? Stone. Sombra? Tirek? The list goes on. Again, I feel this is a clear parallel that needs little explanation.

Death = Twilight Sparkle

Indeed this is the most subtle connection. After all, she is not even close to the right color. She is purple! No relation to death whatsoever........ right? WRONG. In the Catholic faith, the calandar is divided into different seasons with associated colors. Purple is the color of death and mourning; priests will exclusively wear purple robes for mass during Lent to symbolize Christ's suffering and death on the cross.

Twilight has a very important role as she and her friends are the bearers of the elements of harmony, with Twilight in the lead. The power of this clearly escalates throughout the series, as the mane six progress from turning Discord to stone to completely destroying Sombra after he is initially resurrected. We watch them become a force that could take away anyone's life force, Twilight especially. And let's not forget the form the elements later take. The tree of harmony. Reminiscent of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, from which humanity committed its first sin and thus were kicked out of Eden, gaining the ability to die.

Twilight will outlive all of her friends. As an allicorn, she is immortal. We see in the last episode that she is in her prime while all of her friends are elderly. How can one be a Princess of Friendship if she sees all her friends to the ends of their lives like a benevolent Reaper? After so many years of standing at the deathbeds of loved ones, she will feel detatched from others. A Princess of Death.

And yes Flurryheart is the fifth Princess but she is a clear allagory for the Antichrist so I did not include her

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card : Soul Connection

An intuitive reading about a soul meant to find yours. In epic tales there is a literally mechanism called "recognition". The hero and his counterpart recognize eachother even after years of estrangement. Like Penelope and Odysseus. A love so deep not even multiple lifetimes can erase. A soul kindred to yours you would recognize in a sea of people.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

disclaimer : a tarot reading should never be used in place of professional counselling. Your reading cannot offer legal, medical, business, or financial advice nor does any portion of your reading herein purport to. You should not rely on a tarot reading to make any decision that would affect your legal, financial, or medical condition. If your inquiry involves the law, finance, or medicine, then you should seek the advice of a licensed or qualified legal, financial, or medical professional. Also, tarot reading cannot replace qualified mental health care. A tarot reading can only facilitate how you cope spiritually with a given situation.

PILE 1

The soul meant to find yours is a gentle one. Themes that come up here remind me of couples like Queen Victoria and Albert. I t will be love at first sight. Whatever your genders are, the "supposed" feminine will be the dominant one.

Your person will take the backseat as you run things. You may come from a wealthier background or simply seem "high value". Lady and the trump vibes.

This person will fight for those who didn't get the same opportunities to grow. They cheer for the underdog. This person will love your firey nature and how "bossy" you are. One thing you have to be careful with in this relationship is to keep things balanced as sometimes they might feel like you do not respect them or you don't spend enough time with them.

They could be an INFJ. Sympathetic, compassionate and protective. Practical and detail oriented, this is the safe place you need to come back to after your long trips towards the stars.

PILE 2

The love of your life will be able to see you. The real you. They won't overlook the greyness in your face. "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift is a song that can talk about your past.

No one stopped hurting you even though they knew they wouldn't be able to bring you back. They didn't care.

This person is everything that you deserve. They will help you heal. No sad songs with this one. Your happily ever after. This person is a soldier. They would die for love.

Your people pleasing tendencies won't go unnoticed with this one. They care about YOU, not what you can do about THEM.

Give them a chance when they come around. Sweet energy. Safe. Boy-Girl-They next door energy. A sweetheart with a great smile and a kind glint in their eyes. My heart feels warm writing about them. Hallmark movies ain't got nothing on them. Their love is simple and "perfect". No questions and worries. Your safe place.

Your energy reminds me of those wedding photos you see on Instagram of couples in small American towns posing with their golden retriever and smiling at each other. Don't let your past wounds f*ck this up. Sincerely, from one people pleaser to another. If you picked this pile we would have been besties in real life. Lots of love and hugs your way.

P.S. They will always choose you. You are not the first, but the ONLY choice.

PILE 3

Your whole life you have felt alone and isolated. Like life is a party you have not been invited. I wouldn't say you are a "pick me", you are far from that. You just feel like there is no one there for you to keep your hands warm. You have always longed for someone that will look behind the mirror and realize there is someone is behind it. You struggle with finding your inner voice.

The catch here is that you have the ability to choose anyone behind the mirror. You have the ability to show who you truly are. Be wild and crazy. Unstoppable. You didn't come here to do pretty and quiet. You are here to awake others and break the glass.

The person meant for you, your other half is very different from you. They are way more hedonistic and may find solace is the material realm. They will do everything to make you feel wanted and beautiful. This person will see you for who you truly are and they won't feel intimidated. Your "black cat energy" won't drive them away. They have some skeletons in the closet themselves. Disturbing and compelling, this one would make a great "50 Shades Of Grey" type of movie. lol. They could listen a lot to the Weeknd or they used to live a very "rough" lifestyle in the past. Love at first sight. Intense. You slap them and they will kiss you. They will buffle you. "Why doe sthis mfer stick around somehow?".

In all honesty, in this lifetime, your other half will be overbearing. They won't back down until they take you down with them. Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem come to mind in Jamon Jamon. This person may also come from money or have a lot of money and they want you to be their dark princess/prince. It will feel like taking a panther or feral cat and trying to domesticate it. Good try. You are still dangerous though, but they don't mind a few scratches.

[padmestrilogy]

Anakin and Padmé as courtly love/exhalation of the beloved lady ???

They have the forbiddeness, the secrecy, the knight/lady dynamic, the purity of the love

(including these paintings to set the mood, and help remind people of what this kinda imagery is)

anakin and padme’s relationship is absolutely modeled off those ideals of “courtly love,” of something wholly pure and good despite the battle raging around. their romance is intentionally fantastical and high-stakes: it must end in death/rebirth, heaven/hell, there's no room for moderation. and with such a strong fictional lineage of doomed lovers to look back on, casting padme as a maiden saying farewell to a knight just feels right.

the really interesting part about this reading—to me at least—is you can come at it from a "believer" angle, and a "skeptic" angle. or, text v. subtext.

the "believer" angle is a straightforward applying of the "courtly love" fantasy onto the anidala dynamic. this angle disregards a lot of common criticisms of their relationship (anakin's awkard flirting, those stiff first dates, padme's reaction to the tusken massacre, etc etc), in favor of looking at what the plot demands of them. because if anakin and padme really are this great romance that splits the galaxy apart, these criticisms don't matter. their broad declarations of love are not structural weaknesses, but the whole point. what they as characters symbolize (truth v. lies, good v. evil, water v. fire, peace v. war) in the text et large is the source of their love for another, and questions like "but why would padme go for whiny anakin??" are completely off base. (i like this reading, i hope i'm not coming off as patronizing.)

the "skeptic" angle has anakin and padme seeing the other as fulfillment of their courtly love fantasy, and using these dual delusions as explanation for their worse moments. i.e. having padme idealize anakin as her only freedom from the oppressive queen/senator lifestyle as the reason behind her feelings for him. where i think this gets cool is interpreting padme as a religious figure, someone who is elevated to high status in society for her "purity" and goodness, but also objectified and dehumanized. "courtly love" is a deeply religious concept, and the "idealized beloved" is too. the most sympathetic reading of padme out there, imo, is she spent her whole life trying to be more than just queen of naboo and feel something real.

with anidala, you can have them truly be each other's only source of good and light, or you can have them build up impossible expectations of the other that all come crashing down. and both these readings are supported by the text, we have fun over here

[chocostrwberry]

So time to ask about my side-character favs. Clearly Chloé is still richie-brat, but we have Queen Bee. So What flavor of her do we have? Also, how is my best doggo Sabrina doing?

ALR SO-

Chloe does start off as a Richie-brat, but overtime she becomes more sympathetic. There are multiple examples in the AU where she shows she has a heart;

She saves Sabrina during an akuma attack in her hotel

She’s consistently there for Adrien and does things in his best interests

She recognizes Marinette’s kindness

She semi-comforts Marinette ONCE after a Luka misunderstanding

She compliments and tries to calm an akumatized Sabrina

Backs Marinette in her accusations and suspicions against Lila

Acknowledged Marinette’s talents in fashion design

She actively tries to change her behavior towards others after being given the bee miraculous

And more!!

Once Marinette and Adrien start dating, they become official “frenemies”! Marinette doesn’t ever really get over Chloe’s ego, and Chloe still thinks that Adrien can do better but is willing to respect his wishes if it means he’ll be happy.

Queen Bee isn’t permanent in my AU, but she’s very dramatic and showy, like she’ll do flips in the air like an aerial dancer for the news cameras, strike poses and does lots of things for attention. She loves the spotlight so Ladybug is a bit salty when she is getting all the attention.

It’s not like she’s a bad partner, but her ego does get in the way of actually taking down the akuma, and she doesn’t take orders very well, especially if it doesn’t end in her being the one to save the day.

AND FOR SABRINA:

Sabrina does have a mean girl streak, like Chloe. She’ll aid her in her bullying and use her phone to cyberbully. She is the top ballerina at a prestigious dance school as well. So even though she’s much quieter than Chloe, the girls in her class know her to be perfect but condescending. She is also compliant/encouraged Chloe in her bullying and bad behavior (doing her bidding, offering ways on how to bully, etc.) and definitely entices gossip and drama for her own amusement, or for Chloe’s benefit. But she also has a heart too;

she cares about Chloe deeply, is always there for her when no one else is, and

is able to interpret Chloe’s emotions to other people when Chloe can’t do it accurately herself

Didn’t run away from an akumatized Chloe and instead insisted on helping her

Skipped school to stay with Chloe after a traumatizing birthday party

Recognizes when things REALLY goes too far and feel guilty about it, maybe even apologizing in her own stuck-up way.

Sabrina is aware that she doesn’t have a good relationship with her mom (Only Adrien knows the terrible details), but she’s Chloe’s best friend for a reason.