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hyperfixatedimagines · 1 year ago

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Home for the Holidays Ch.1

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older.

A/N: This is a modern!au milf Alicent x milf lover f!reader. It was supposed to be finished last December lol. It got really long so I broke it into two chapters. It will be smutty, so read with caution if that’s not your thing! Not really smut in part one though.

A/N pt. 2: In this story two of Alicent’s cousins are her older brothers and Baela is not Helaena’s cousin. Not canon compliant.

You knew the holidays were going to be rough this year but had not anticipated just how hard seeing pictures of your family in St. Barts without you would be.

They had not taken your coming out well.

Sure they had promised to keep paying the tuition to your very expensive university until you graduated but that did little to soothe the hurt that their disapproval caused. Your family came from old money, some of the oldest of old in the country, and with that came old ways of thinking. They didn't care that you were gay, plenty of people in your extended family were some form of fruit, but they all stayed in the closet- at least publicly. That was what your family wanted for you as well. Anything to not tarnish their image.

But you couldn't live that way any longer. You wanted to be free.

To your surprise, only your estranged cousin Elia had accepted and even celebrated your coming out of the closet.

Thankfully you had Aemond. The two of you had met in freshman history class. He argued with the professor over every historical inconsistency in his lectures and it drove the professor mad. It made you laugh though. Aemond also came from old money, so the two of you bonded over the pressures that came from families that expected you to be perfect. Sophomore year the two of you moved into an apartment off campus, and your friendship only grew from there.

Aemond was your best friend, and you could not have asked for a better one. Aemond invited you to spend the holiday with his family. He didn’t love spending time with his family as they could be quite a lot but he always went for his mother’s sake.

You figured it beat spending Christmas alone in your flat.

So you got dressed in your very best and sat in the passenger seat of Aemond’s Porsche the whole drive to Oldtown.

Aemond popped another piece of gum into his mouth. “This will be a great opportunity for you and Helaena to bond,” he said as he chewed.

You rolled your eyes. “Not this again.”

Aemond smiled mischievously. “Come on (y/n). You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a connection when she came to visit on my birthday.”

“I can, and I am. She’s not a lesbian Aemond,” you replied.

Aemond was convinced that his sister Helaena was a lesbian. His evidence was that she never had a boyfriend, attended an all women's university, majored in Women’s studies, and only brought home girl best friends for the holidays.

“She talked to you that night, which cannot be said for many other people. Helaena is very selective with who she talks to. You even made her laugh (y/n)! I saw the sparks,” Aemond argued.

You sighed and shook your head. “Even if your sister was by some miracle into women, which I want to firmly state for the record that she is not, she’s simply not my type.”

The light turned red and Aemond’s car pulled to a smooth stop at the intersection. He turned to you.

“You don’t have a type. I’ve seen you bring all types of women home (y/n).”

You smirked. “Ever notice they weren’t at all our age.”

Aemond furrowed his brows. “So your type is older women?”

You nodded. “Yeah, like your mom for example.”

Aemond frowned. “Dude not that again!”

You laughed. “It’s not my fault your mom is a total milf.”

The light turned green. Aemond focused on the road once more. His face contorted in disgust.

“Ugh, yeah you and my mother are not something I’d like to picture.”

You let out another laugh. “Well I certainly have.”

This time Aemond let out a small chuckle. “Do you have the hots for my mother (y/n)? Is that why you said yes to joining us for Christmas?”

You shrugged. “Maybe I do, and maybe it is.”

Aemond chuckled again. “Well if you can make my white, Anglo-saxon, catholic mother do anything untoward this weekend I’ll spend the first two months of the new year cleaning the bathroom every weekend.”

Another red light. The car came to a stop.

You turned to Aemond and put your hand out.

“Deal.”

Aemond turned to you and shook his head. “I was joking.”

“I am not," you replied with a cheeky smile.

“Fine, deal,” Aemond said and shook your hand.

The light turned green. Aemond sped off once more.

You sat back in your seat thinking of Aemond’s mother, Alicent. You had only met her via Facetime when she called to check in on Aemond.

She was a certified smokeshow.

Alicent was beautiful and always held herself with poise. She was dressed impeccably in every photo of her online you could find when you first cyber-stalked her.

She had lost her husband, Aemond’s father, three years ago.

Aemond always skirted around the topic of his father. His father, from what you knew, had never really cared for Aemond and his siblings.

Viserys Targaryen was in his second term as the state's governor when he passed away. The Targaryens were political legends in your state. Many of their family members had been mayors, governors, state senators, and they had even managed to have an ancestor in the oval office.

Aemond’s father had always favored his only daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. He had poised her to be the city’s mayor but his death led to a falling out within Aemond’s family. According to Aemond, they had never gotten along with Rhaenyra and her family but they had been cordial while Viserys lived.

When he died, Rhaenyra (who according to Aemond saw his mother as nothing but a gold digging whore) fought Alicent on every asset Viserys owned and vowed to leave Alicent penniless.

Thankfully Aemond’s mother had her family by her side. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an even older political force to be reckoned with. Their wealth dated back to the very founding of the nation.

Aemond’s grandfather, Otto Hightower, had squandered his own inheritance as a young man. It was rumored his family had cut him off and left him to his own devices after he gambled his money away. So Aemond’s mother had grown up having to make a lot of things happen on her own as they didn’t have their family’s backing for most of her life.

It wasn’t until Alicent married Viserys that the Hightowers welcomed Otto, Alicent, and her brothers back into the family fold.

So when Viserys died Alicent had the army of Hightower family lawyers on her side. Alicent managed to win several of Viserys’ homes and the money the prenup she had signed promised her.

Aemond never really spoke of his father, and when he did it was without warmth or love. So you often wondered if this was how all his family felt or if it was just him. You figured you would soon find out.

Aemond pulled up in front of the massive estate.

You got out of the car and marveled at the impressive family home. It wasn’t bigger than the one your family owned but it did look older and felt more imposing.

The estate was decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decor. It was done tastefully, the lights and decor didn’t look tacky, but it certainly conveyed a love for the holiday not many others shared by the look of the estates Aemond had passed by on the drive up.

Aemond popped the truck of the car open and took out his overnight bag. Then he took a deep breath and walked towards you.

“Say the word and we can still go back to the flat,” he joked.

You raised your brows and gave him a sideways look. “And do what? Eat Chinese take out and get drunk?”

Aemond smiled. “That sounds class to me.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Aemond," said a voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as light as the morning sun.

You and Aemond turned your heads towards the estate.

Aemond’s mother stood at the door. She smiled brightly and waved.

Gods she’s even more beautiful in person, you thought.

Aemond put his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with then.”

You and Aemond walked up to the door.

Aemond’s mother turned to you and gave you a hug.

“It’s lovely to finally see you in person (y/n)," Alicent said as she politely embraced you.

You were surprised but you quickly recovered and returned the embrace. You noted how warm she felt.

“It’s a pleasure Mrs. Targaryen.”

Alicent pulled away and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh none of that. Call me Alicent,” she said with a smile.

You nodded. “If you insist, Alicent.”

She let out a polite laugh then turned her attention to Aemond. She wrapped her arms around her son. “I’ve missed you so much my little dragon,” she cooed.

Aemond blushed as he pulled away from his mother.

“Mom,” he chided.

Alicent laughed. “What? I can’t call you my little dragon anymore?”

You laughed and turned to Aemond. “Little dragon?”

Alicent turned to you. “He used to love running around pretending he was a dragon when he was a boy.”

You reached out and pinched Aemond’s now rosy cheek. “How cute, little dragon.”

Aemond swatted your hand away. “That only happened when I was seven and it’s because the dragon is on our family crest.”

“If it makes you feel better my nickname used to be baby cabbage in our mother tongue," you revealed, hoping to lessen Aemond's embarrassment.

Alicent laughed. “Why baby cabbage?”

You blushed under her gaze. “I was a very chubby baby.”

“How darling,” Alicent quipped.

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at the compliment. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Aemond staring at you.

He cleared his throat and pulled his mother’s gaze away from you. “Let’s go inside, it’s bitterly cold out.”

Alicent nodded. “Of course come on in. Aegon is already up in his room. Helaena and her friend should be getting in any minute now.”

Alicent stepped aside and Aemond walked inside.

You followed after him and felt the butterflies in your chest multiply when you caught Alicent looking you over from head to toe with a small smile on her face.

Aemond and Aegon decided to smoke a joint before dinner.

You weren’t against it but didn’t care to partake so you wandered downstairs and figured you’d ask Alicent if she needed any help with dinner.

You knocked on the wall of the kitchen entryway.

Alicent was stirring something in the saucepan but looked up when she heard you knock. She smiled.

Butterflies filled your chest once more.

“Hi there,” she said.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans. Your palms had already started to sweat and you hadn't even spoken yet.

“Hi...Uh I was wondering if you needed help with anything?”

Alicent waved you off. “You’re a guest (y/n). I could never ask you to do anything,” Alicent protested.

You stepped closer and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Then it’s a great thing I’m asking you. Really, I want to help out,” you insisted.

Alicent let out a small laugh. “Okay, you can stir this gravy while I check on the roast.”

You stepped up to the stove and took over the stirring.

Alicent went to the oven that was inlaid on the side of the stove, and took a look at the roast.

“Did you decorate or did you hire someone to decorate your home?”

Alicent stuck a meat thermometer in the roast and turned her head towards you. “Depends, do you think it’s too much?”

You smiled. “Of course not. It’s beautifully done.”

Alicent brightened at the compliment. “Then it was all me,” she beamed.

“Do you always go all out on the holidays?”

Alicent placed the roast back on its rack and closed the oven door. “Just Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday because I finally have my family all under one roof again."

She took her oven mitts off.

You continued to stir the gravy. “Well I hope it’s okay that you have a stray joining you at the table this year."

Alicent approached the stove once more.“It’s Christmas, the more the merrier.”

Then Alicent reached out for the spoon. You went to hand it off.

But then your hand met hers.

You didn’t move, and neither did Alicent.

She met your gaze.

You were too scared to even breathe. It felt as though if you moved even an inch the spell that kept her eyes on you would break.

But it broke anyway.

Alicent cleared her throat and looked away.

You let go of the spoon.

Alicent grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring. With her free hand she lowered the heat of the flame. “Besides, I’ll have two stays. Helaena is bringing a friend from school," she said, as though your brief moment of intense something had never happened.

You took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Right, you mentioned that before. Do you know much about her?”

Alicent continued to stir. She did not meet your gaze. “Not really. Helaena doesn’t share much about her college life with me. All I know is that her name is Baela, and that they’re spending Christmas day with her family.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Was Aemond right about his sister being into women?

Alicent noticed. “Why’d you make that face?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something stupid Aemond said," your face suddenly felt warmer.

Now it was Alicent who raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “What is it?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure if Aemond would mind you sharing his thoughts with his mother.

Alicent noted your apprehension. “I won’t tell Aemond you mentioned anything.”

You looked into Alicent’s eyes. They were a deep and rich brown. They were comforting. You realized that with eyes like that you would tell her anything she wanted. But her gaze was too hot so you swallowed hard and looked away from her when you told her what Aemond had said.

“He thinks Helaena is gay, and is obsessed with getting her and I together. I’m ninety percent sure that’s the sole reason he invited me over today.”

Alicent stopped stirring and stared at you.“Gay? Why does he think Helaena is gay?”

You shrugged.

Alicent placed a hand on her hip. "I think you do know."

You dared look up. Alicent's attention was fully focused on you. You felt your stomach in your throat but you spoke anyway.

“According to Aemond, Helaena never expresses interest in men or in dating a man, only talks about women she admires, attends a historically women’s college and majors in women’s studies, and finally that she only ever brings girls home on the holidays.”

Alicent chuckled and went back to stirring the gravy. “Oh gods. You know I’ve never known why kids today still hang onto outdated stereotypes about sexuality. I was the very same at Helaena’s age, she’ll grow out of it when she meets her future husband. I know I did.”

You pushed yourself onto the counter and sat down, intrigued at the revelation of Alicent's past.

“You were a women’s studies major at an all girl college?”

Alicent tilted her head to the side.“Sort of. I majored in English literature at Vassar, and I only ever brought my girl friends home for the holidays. Until I met my late husband of course.”

Aemond had never told you that his mother had gone to an all women’s university or that she had a BA in English Lit. It piqued your interest. You needed to know more.

“How did you meet him?”

Alicent returned her gaze to the stove and brought the heat of the burner even lower. “My father introduced us. He was Viserys’ chief of staff in his first term.”

You knew there had been an age difference between them but had not imagined it was that big.

“Interesting...”

Alicent didn’t reply but she glanced over at you.

You hopped off the counter, awkward with the sudden silence. “What else can I help with?”

Alicent smiled softly. “You really don’t have to (y/n).”

You shook your head. “I insist. Have you set the table? If not I would be more than happy to do so.”

Alicent turned the heat off and moved the sauce pot to a different burner. She looked up at you. “I laid everything out but I haven’t set it up.”

You clapped your hands together. “Consider it done.”

Then you raised your hand to your forehead and gave Alicent a mock salute.

Alicent laughed.

You set the table as you had always been taught to. Spoons and knives on the right and forks on the left.

Then, just as you were almost done setting the table you realized the salad forks were missing.

You double checked the pile where Alicent had left everything, hoping they were under a napkin and you had simply missed them. But no dice. They weren’t there.

So you walked back to the kitchen.

Alicent was now working on the salad she planned to serve. She looked up when you entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. It seemed like she always had a smile ready for you.

You smiled back, it was instinct around her. “Hey uhm- I’m almost done setting the table but I realized the salad forks are missing. I can’t find them.”

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Really? I could have sworn I set them out with the rest.”

She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her hands of any residue.

Then she exited the kitchen and walked towards her china hutch.

You watched her from the kitchen entryway.

While you waited for Alicent to find the forks you looked about the room. When you looked up you realized someone had hung mistletoe over the entryway.

You smiled.

Alicent walked to you, forks in hand. She stopped at the entryway. “I’m so sorry I forgot to set them out with the rest.”

She handed the forks over to you.

You reached out to take them and for a brief minute your hands met hers, once again.

Your gaze met hers. “Don’t apologize. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing all the cooking and decorating all on your own. Aemond and I were barely able to put a tree up.”

Alicent smiled. She didn’t pull away this time. “You’re too sweet (y/n).”

You returned her smile. Your cheeks were starting to hurt but you wouldn't dare not smile back. “I do have to ask you something," you said, emboldened by the continued contact with Alicent.

Alicent raised a brow. “Ask me something?”

You nodded slightly then continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen mistletoe hung in the entryway of a kitchen before.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Mistletoe?”

You looked up. Alicent followed your gaze.

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed the mistletoe. “Oh I- That Aegon,” she cursed.

You looked back down at her and laughed.

Alicent met your gaze once more, blush filled her cheeks.

Then she pulled her hands away from yours.

You took the forks and held them against you. “It's quite a funny placement isn't it?"

Alicent walked past you, back to her salad preparations.

“Oh yeah? How so,” Alicent replied, busying herself with her salad to avoid looking at you.

“It reminds me of the old saying, love the meal and kiss the chef."

Alicent stopped chopping the greens and looked over at you. She let out a small laugh. “Is that a saying? I don't think I've heard it before."

You shrugged. “I swear I've heard it before, somewhere...Well if it's not it should be."

Alicent shook her head, the smile still on her face. “Let’s see if you still want to kiss the chef after you’ve had my cooking.”

Butterflies filled your chest. You stood up a little straighter. “Deal.”

Alicent turned to you once more, her eyebrows raised.

You twirled around and walked back to the dining room. You could feel Alicent’s eyes on you as you walked away.

You finished setting the table.

Then you stepped back and admired your work.

You hoped Alicent would like it. So you turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped in the hall when you heard the doorbell ring.

You turned to open it but Aemond beat you to it.

“Sister,” Aemond said and reached out to hug a familiar blonde.

Alicent walked out of the kitchen and went to the door.

Helaena let go of Aemond and turned to her mother. Alicent wrapped Helaena in another hug.

Behind her, a silver haired girl stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Helaena pulled away from her mom and stepped back to the silver haired girl’s side. She slid her hand in the girl’s. “Mom, Aemond, this is my best friend Baela.”

Alicent stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Baela.”

Baela shook Alicent’s hand. “Thank you for having me over Mrs. Targaryen. Helaena has told me so much about you all.”

Alicent laughed lightheartedly. “All good things I hope.”

You took note that she didn’t ask Baela to call her Alicent.

Aemond gave Baela a polite nod. “Welcome Baela.”

Baela smiled at him. “Thank you Aemond.”

Then Aemond noticed you standing in the hall and he waved you over. You approached them with a smile.

Aemond went to your side and put his arm around your shoulders. “Helaena look who’s joining us tonight.”

Helaena smiled when she turned to face you. “(y/n), it’s nice to see you again.” She stepped forward and gave you a hug.

Aemond dropped his arm and stepped away from the both of you.

You returned Helaena’s hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Aemond giving you a knowing smirk.

Helaena pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “I’m so happy you’re joining us for dinner.”

“As am I,” you replied.

Helaena gave your arms a squeeze before she stepped back to Baela’s side.

You stuck your hand out to Baela. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aemond’s friend (y/n).”

Baela shook your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you as well.”

Then Baela stepped back and Helaena looped her arm around Baela’s.

“We’ll be upstairs in my room. Let us know when dinner is ready,” Helaena said before she and Baela started up the stairs.

“Okay,” Alicent said as she watched them leave. Then she turned to you and Aemond.

“Do you need any more help,” you asked Alicent.

Alicent shook her head. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Please go have fun.”

Aemond put his arm around your shoulders once more. “Let’s go play some video games on Aegon’s new system.”

Aemond led you to the stairs.

You craned your head back to look at Alicent. “If you need any more help just let me know! I’d be more than happy to.”

Alicent gave you another smile. “I will.”

Then she walked back into the kitchen and you followed Aemond up the stairs.

After about an hour of playing mario party with Aemond and Aegon (who you didn’t much care for because he could be crass but he had never been improper towards you so you didn’t mind him much) you heard the doorbell ring.

“That will be grandfather,” Aemond said with a sigh.

Aegon slumped down in his gaming chair on the ground. “I don’t want to go down.”

Aemond clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sooner we go say hello the sooner we can say goodbye.”

Aegon groaned.

You turned to Aemond. “Oh come on, your grandpa can’t be that bad.”

Aegon looked at you with an incredulous expression. “You have no idea."

Then you all stood and made your way to the entrance.

You trailed behind the boys.

You saw Alicent at the door with an older man who you figured was her father, and three younger men who greeted Alicent with smiles and hugs. You figured they were her brothers.

Aemond had told you he had three uncles on his mother’s side. He hadn’t mentioned much about them other than they were all still bachelors, which to you spoke volumes about them as two looked older than Alicent and only one looked younger than her.

The older man turned to Aegon and Aemond, who were now at the door.

“Boys,“ the man cheered before greeting each one with a hug and heavy pat on the back.

Aemond returned the hug while Aegon went limp in his grandfather’s arms. Then their uncles greeted each one.

You noticed that Alicent had straightened her posture and kept a more neutral expression. She greeted her father and sibling politely, with none of the warmth of earlier greetings.

There was a lot that you didn’t know about Alicent and her family but you figured it was not all rainbows and sunshine by the change in her demeanor.

“You got here just in time father. Dinner is ready and served,” Alicent proclaimed.

Her father nodded. “Very good timing Alicent.”

Then Alicent turned to Aemond. “Would you tell the girls it’s dinner time?”

Aemond nodded. Then he sped back up the stairs. He reached you and started to tell you but you told him you had heard.

So he left you and went to tell Helaena and Baela.

You made your way down the staircase and to the dining room.

Alicent’s father and brothers seated themselves. Her father sat at the head of the table and insisted Aegon sit on the other end. Aegon did not protest.

Alicent came out of the kitchen with the salad she prepared in her arms.

You went to her side. “Do you need any help bringing out the food?”

Alicent gave you a half smile. “It’s alright (y/n). I’ve set it all on the table. You just sit down and enjoy.“

You nodded and followed Alicent into the dining room. You sat down on the empty side of the table. You introduced yourself to Alicent’s family as you sat down. They all gave you various levels of appropriate greetings.

Thankfully Aemond, Helaena and Baela came in and sat down next to you. Aemond sat to your right, beside his grandfather, and Helaena to your left. Baela sat on her left, with Aegon on Baela’s left. Opposite you sat Alicent. To her left sat her brother Gwayne (as he had introduced himself to you), beside his father. To Alicent’s right sat her brothers Lyonel and Martyn.

You took in the sight of the absolute feast that was before you. “This all looks delicious, Alicent,” you said without thinking.

Alicent gave you a small smile, blush tinting her cheeks once again. “Thank you (y/n). You’re too kind.”

Her father, Otto as you now knew him, let out an indifferent huff. “The roast looks a bit overdone. How long did you leave it in for,” he remarked.

Alicent’s smile fell from her face. She looked down at her hands. “I followed mother’s recipe to the letter father.”

Otto let out another huff. “We’ll see about that.”

Alicent frowned.

Your focus was pulled away from them when Aemond gently ribbed you with his elbow.

“You’ve got the perfect seat to talk to Helaena,” he whispered.

You turned your head slightly to get a better look at Helaena. She was too busy chatting with Baela to even notice you.

You turned back to Aemond. “It’s not happening Aemond.”

Aemond frowned then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Otto rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass with a fork, calling everyone’s attention.

“It warms my heart to see the family gathered for another Christmas. A man’s true wealth can be measured by the strength of his family...and the strength of his business. I am pleased to announce that your uncle Ormund has set up a donor fund for Aegon’s first mayoral campaign.”

Alicent’s brothers clapped and cheered for Aegon. Alicent clapped softly and gave Aegon a sympathetic look.

Aegon’s face turned a sickly pale color. He didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze.

You had a feeling this was the first Aegon was hearing of his mayoral candidacy.

Otto raised his glass. “To Aegon, first stop the mayor of Oldtown, last stop the president’s office.”

“Huzzah,” Martyn cheered.

You raised your glass alongside the rest purely out of propriety. Everyone could tell by the look on Aegon’s face this was the last thing he wanted.

You turned to look at Alicent who had guilt written all over her face. Your heart softened.

Otto set his glass down after taking a drink. Then he grabbed the carving knife and fork and got to work on the roast.

The meal was going well. Until of course Alicent’s family set their attention towards you.

Lyonel, Alicent’s eldest brother, turned towards you. “So (y/n), what’s your family do?”

Martyn nodded. “Yeah your name sounds familiar.”

You took a quick sip of your wine before you replied. “My family are mainly philanthropists now but our family used to own the majority of the railways in the country,” you confessed.

“That’s right, (y/l/n) rail,” Otto chimed in.

“Yes sir, but my father is focused on tech philanthropy now.” Below the table your palms started to sweat. Talking with Otto Hightower felt a lot like speaking with your grandfather as a child. They both had very imposing auras.

“A pity,” Martyn responded as he shoveled another piece of roast into his mouth.

Alicent whipped her head towards her brother. “Martyn,” Alicent chided.

Martyn shrugged. “What? Her family used to be major players in the nation.”

Lyonel nodded, agreeing with his brother. But he didn’t stop there. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?”

You dug your fingers into the palms of your hands. You felt like something was stabbing the inside of your throat.

Thankfully, Alicent and Aemond came to your aid. “Lyonel,” Alicent reprimanded.

Then she turned to you. “You don’t have to answer that (y/n). Please forgive my brothers.”

Aemond nodded. “Yeah (y/n) you don’t have to engage my troublesome uncles.”

Lyonel and Martyn rolled their eyes.

Otto was silent but his piercing gaze remained on you.

You swallowed hard before you put on a polite smile. You looked at Aemond then at Alicent. “It’s alright,” you assured them.

Then you turned to Alicent’s brothers.

“I came out to my family a few months ago and it's safe to say they don’t approve of my new ‘lifestyle’ as they call it.”

Lyonel’s face went red. Martyn looked away.

Internally, you smiled at the sight of them embarrassed.

Alicent’s voice pulled you back to the present. “They’ll come around eventually (y/n). The love a parent has for their child is immeasurable.”

You smiled at her. “I really hope you’re right.”

Gwayne, who had not said much all dinner, cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

He turned to Aemond. “So Aemond, how’s your fencing coming along?”

And just like that the pressure was off you and onto Aemond.

Many minutes later the meal came to a close.

The men whisked Aegon and Aemond outside to play ball, leaving only the women inside.

You, Alicent, Helaena, and Baela cleaned up the table.

Alicent and Baela made their way to the kitchen with the leftover food while you and Helaena stacked up a pile of dirty dishes.

Helaena looked over at you. “That was very brave of you,” she said.

You set the plate you had picked up down. “What was brave?”

Helaena stopped clearing the table. She turned to face you. “Telling everyone your family iced you out after you came out. Coming out to your family is incredibly brave, and you’re even braver for sharing that with practical strangers.”

You smiled and felt your face warm. You weren’t attracted to Helaena but she had an otherworldly presence that made any attention she gave you feel special. “Thank you Helaena.”

She reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “If you ever need to talk or need support, I’m here for you.”

You put your hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”

Then the two of you finished clearing the table.

You finished bringing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Helaena trailed in after you and set her stack on the counter. “Mother, Baela and I will be in my room.”

Alicent nodded, up to her elbows in leftover food that she was trying to shove into various containers.

Baela and Helaena left the kitchen.

You turned to Alicent. “Do you need some help with that?”

Alicent struggled to secure the lid on the container as she had over packed it with food. Alicent shook her head. “I got it.”

You continued to watch her struggle. “I don’t think you do.”

Alicent stopped trying and stepped aside. “Okay then tough guy, you give it a go.”

You smiled and walked up to the counter. You pressed the lid down on all sides until you heard it click. It was secure.

Alicent clicked her tongue. "Lucky try."

You turned to her. “Always happy to help.”

Alicent took the container full of food and stacked it with the others. “You don’t have to hang around here (y/n). You can go see Aemond or Helaena.”

You furrowed your brows. “Helaena?”

Alicent turned to the fridge and started the game of stacking the leftovers. “Yes, I saw the two of you talking while you cleared the table. Perhaps Aemond was right after all. I’ve never seen Helaena take to someone new so quickly.”

“You were watching us," you asked, butterflies forming at the thought of Alicent spying on you.

“Why do you say it as if I was spying on you? I saw you from the window in the kitchen is all." She said with a lazy smile on her face.

“Right....We were just talking. Besides,Aemond is out playing sports with your brothers and father and I am not a sports fan. And I would hate to interrupt Helaena and Baela's alone time,” you joked.

Alicent chuckled. She turned to grab the rest of the leftovers from the counter.

You stepped forward and grabbed them. You handed them to her, one by one. “Besides, I like being in your company,” you confessed.

Alicent stopped arranging the leftovers and looked back at you. “Really?”

You nodded.

Alicent smiled shyly and returned her attention to the refrigerator. “I wish my own children felt the same. All but Aemond dodge my calls.”

You shrugged. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always free.”

Alicent turned to you and you handed her the final container of leftovers. “Thank you (y/n).”

Her fingers lingered over yours. Alicent looked down at them. She stared at them for a moment before biting her lip.

“What’s your verdict?”

You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry?”

Alicent looked up, and took the container from you. “About my food. Was it good enough to kiss the chef?”

Your face went hot. “Oh...uhm I-”

Alicent placed the container in the fridge then closed it. She turned back to you.

You were still too stunned to say anything.

So her smile fell and she shook her head. “Forget it, it was stupid.”

“No it’s not stupid I-," you stammered then cleared your throat. “I was just caught off guard is all.”

Alicent stared at you, not saying anything.

So you continued.

“The roast was cooked perfectly.”

Her smile returned. “Thank you (y/n).”

You stepped closer to her. “So I do believe I will kiss the chef after all.”

Alicent swallowed hard, not taking her gaze off you. “Oh,” she whispered.

You stood in front of her, and looked down at her lips. “May I?”

The last thing you wanted was for Alicent to feel uncomfortable or coerced. So you waited for her reply before doing anything else.

Alicent gave you an almost imperceptible nod.

You leaned in, at first determined to kiss her lips, but as you neared her skin you thought better of it.

She was just committing to the bit, you told yourself, she didn't actually want you to kiss her.

So you placed a gentle kiss on Alicent’s cheek, inches away from her lips but still in a chaste enough location.

You noticed a small frown spread across Alicent’s lips as you pulled away.

But it was quickly wiped away.

Alicent blushed furiously. She looked away from you.

You also felt your face warm.

You heard footsteps approach the kitchen. So you stepped away from Alicent and leaned on the counter.

Alicent must have also heard them as she busied herself with wiping down the stove top with a nearby rag.

Aemond appeared moments later. He looked between you and his mother, slightly suspicious, but then he shook his head and turned to you. “Aegon wants another couple rounds of Deadly Fighter 5. You up for it?”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Aemond turned and headed towards the hall.

You started after him but turned at the entryway of the kitchen. “It was a lovely meal, thank you.”

Alicent nodded, her cheeks still rosy. “Of course.”

Then you hurried after Aemond.

A part of you wished you had been brave enough to kiss Alicent on the lips.

You mashed various button combinations as your chosen fighter threw punches at Aemond’s chosen character on the tv screen.

He was currently beating you in the second round.

Behind you, Aegon took a hit from his bong and blew it out in perfect circles.

“So let me get this right, you want to fuck our mom,” Aegon repeated.

You grimaced. “Why must you say it like that?”

Aemond’s character delivered the killing blow to you. You lost.

Aemond turned to you. “Aegon’s crudeness aside, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen the way you linger in the kitchen alone with her.”

You felt your face start to warm. You cleared your throat and tried your best to appear nonchalant.

“I didn’t want her to think I was a rude guest. No one else was helping her,” you argued.

Aegon took another hit before he spoke again. “You know, I always thought Mom was a lesbian,” he mused.

Aemond turned to him. “You did?”

Aegon nodded. “She never really liked Dad, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard her call a man sexy.”

Aemond furrowed his brows. “Because Dad was a dick. Mother is a devout Catholic she would never call another man sexy. I don’t even think that word is in her vocabulary.”

You turned to Aemond. “Your arguments for why Heleana is gay are just as flimsy.”

Aegon turned to Aemond. “You think Helaena is gay?”

Aemond shrugged. “What else could she be? She’s definitely not into men.”

“She’s not into anything. She’s a freak like that,” Aegon said and laughed at his own joke.

Aemond threw a pillow at Aegon’s head.

It bumped Aegon’s head and knocked the bong out of his hands.

“Hey,” Aegon whined.

You and Aemond laughed.

An hour later, the time had arrived for you to leave.

You descended the stairs with Aegon and Aemond in tow.

At the bottom of the stairs Alicent was already saying goodbye to her father and brothers. She finished giving each a hug goodbye.

Then she noticed Aemond and Aegon. Alicent asked the boys to say goodbye to their grandfather and uncles.

Aegon and Aemond did as their mother asked and gave their family a hug goodbye.

Helaena and Baela came down the stairs and Helaena said goodbye to her grandfather and uncles.

Once they were gone, Helaena informed her mother it was time for her and Baela to leave.

Alicent gave Helaena a big hug. “I’ll miss you, my bug, she said as she gave Helaena a kiss on the forehead.

Then Alicent said goodbye to Baela, another handshake.

Baela and Helaena made their way out the door.

You were the last guest there.

Alicent and the boys looked towards you.

You dialed your cousin Elia once more. Once again you got the automated message the call could not be connected.

“I’m having some trouble with my cell. Could I use your landline?” You asked.

Aemond furrowed his brows. He turned to his mom. “Do we even have one?”

Alicent nodded. “Of course we do.” Then she turned to you. “It’s this way.”

She led you to a small alcove with the landline and a seat next to it at the end of the hall.

You thanked her and dialed Elia’s number once more.

This time you got through. It rang three times before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Elia, it’s (y/n). I’m calling from my friend’s landline. I couldn’t get through on my cell for some reason.”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. There was a lot of background noise and you could not hear Elia very well.

“I tried to call you. I can’t make it out to pick you up. There’s been a freak snowstorm in Sunspear. They closed all the roads and aren’t letting anyone through. I’m so sorry kiddo,” Elia lamented.

Your heart sank.

One for the snow storm that was probably wreaking havoc in Sunspear. It was a town that almost never got anything besides sun.

And secondly because now you had no way to get back to your flat.

You swallowed hard before answering. “Stay safe Elia. Please call me with updates, okay?”

“You got it kiddo. Is there anyone else who can take you home?”

“I’ll figure it out, Elia. Don’t worry about that,” you said.

The line started to fade in and out. Elia wished you a safe ride home and a merry Christmas.

You did the same then hung up.

Then you walked back to the entryway where Alicent, Aegon and Aemond stood.

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “Soo...a freak snowstorm hit Sunspear and Elia can’t pick me up.”

Alicent frowned. “Oh no, is she alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah she’s doing okay. Uhm, so I’ll try to call my family’s driver to see if he can make it out. It might take him an hour or two to drive from High Garden but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Alicent shook her head and approached you. “Nonsense, you’ll stay the night with us and you can leave with Aemond tomorrow evening.”

She reached for your hands and held them. “Got it?”

You flushed. “I couldn’t possibly bother you all like that.“

“You are no bother (y/n). Now come on, let me show you to the guest bedroom.”

Then Alicent pulled you along the staircase and to the guest bedroom.

Aemond trailed behind the two of you.

Alicent led you to a beautiful room with ample space and a fireplace. She asked Aemond to start a fire as the room could get quite cold at night.

Aemond did so without protest and soon a fire roared in the hearth.

Then Alicent asked Aemond to fetch you a pair of his pajamas.

Again, Aemond did so without protest.

While Aemond was gone you turned to Alicent. “Are you sure this isn’t an imposition? I can still call the family driver.”

Alicent waved you off. “You’re staying and that’s final. You got it?”

You nodded. Her dominant tone ignited a flame of your own. “Thank you,” was all you could say without giving your desire away.

Aemond returned with a fresh pair of pajamas in hand. He gave them to you.

You thanked him.

Alicent clapped her hands together. “Wonderful, we will leave you to get settled. Breakfast is tomorrow at 9am.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

Alicent reached out and gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Sleep well,” she said.

You smiled. “You as well.”

Then Alicent turned and left the room.

Aemond stepped forward. “We’ll try again with Helaena at New Years.”

You groaned. “Please, no more of that.”

Aemond chuckled. “We’ll see. Good night (y/n).”

“Good night Aemond,” you replied as you shook your head.

Aemond walked out and shut the door behind him.

Finally, you were alone.

You changed into the pajamas Aemond gave you and settled into the plush king sized bed. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come. You decided to think about Alicent, in hopes you dreamt of her.

You smiled.

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for you. You tossed and you turned.

All you could think of was how much fun your family was probably having without you in St. Barts.

Then you did the worst possible thing. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pulled up your mother’s facebook account.

She had already posted many photos of the family in St. Barts. They were smiling from ear to ear, tanned, and it seemed like no one cared you were not in any of the pictures.

Your mom made no mention of your absence in the text of the post and none of the comments (mostly your mom’s pta and book club friends) asked about your whereabouts.

You clicked through the many photos. It wasn’t until you clicked on the last photo that you lost it.

It was a picture of your whole family (minus you), with a caption that read, “Family time is the best time. So thankful to God for allowing the whole family to join us for this Christmas getaway.”

Tears welled in your eyes. They had completely erased you out of the family. You threw your phone across the room.

The tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. You could not stop the sobbing that followed.

It was stupid. You were stupid.

You should not have been crying for a family that clearly did not want you. You wiped your tears and tried to calm yourself.

You struggled to do so but after a few minutes you were finally able to breathe normally again.

You got out of bed and crossed the room to where you had thrown your phone. Then you picked it up. It was a little busted but nothing cracked.

So you pocketed it and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water.

As you started towards the kitchen you noticed lights were on in the study down the opposite hall.

Aemond had briefly mentioned the study on the initial tour he had given you.

You wondered who else was up this late as it was well past 2am.

So you stepped closer. As you neared the study you started to hear small cries and sobs.

You got closer and tried to peer inside.

Thankfully the door was ajar enough that you saw who was inside.

It was Alicent.

The first thing you noticed was how low cut her nightgown was.

It was a beautiful sage green, and it hugged her body pretty tightly. Then your gaze traveled back to the low cut top of the nightgown. You knew it was wrong to stare but you wanted to take in just how stunning Alicent was.

You looked closer and noticed her nipples peeked through the fabric of the nightgown. You swallowed hard.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

Then Alicent sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

You shook your head. She was clearly upset and there you were ogling her.

You stepped back and tried to leave.

But it was too late.

Alicent stood from her seat. “Who’s there?” She called out.

You didn’t reply. You were far enough away that you hoped by staying quiet she would drop it and you could leave.

You didn’t want to intrude on a clearly private moment.

“Come forward,” Alicent demanded.

You silently cursed yourself. You had no choice but to enter the study.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent higtower imagine #House of the Dragon imagine #House of the Dragon reader insert

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matan4il · 11 months ago

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Daily update post:

Three more bodies were retrieved from Gaza by the IDF and identified. At least two of them were Israelis taken hostage on Oct 7, who were seen alive in vids published by Hamas as they were being led away, and today it was confirmed that they were murdered in captivity by these terrorists. They were both 19 years old. On the right is Ron Sherman. On the left is his friend, Nick Bizer. In the middle are the last text messages Ron sent to his mom. They read, "Bye mom, I love you all" (followed by five heart emojies), then "That's it," "They're here" and "It's over."

The third body was identified as 28 years old Elia Toledano. He was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists from the Nova music festival on Oct 7. As far as I can tell, there's no confirmation yet of when he was killed.

May their memories be a blessing.

The IDF revealed today how Hamas is trying to lure Israeli soldiers into an ambush in a booby trapped area, with armed terrorists lying in wait: by using child-shaped mannequins, school bags and speakers playing recordings in Hebrew and of sobbing, to make the soldiers think hostages might be held there.

Yesterday, the IDF finished a 60 hours operation in Jenin, where the Palestinian Authority is supposed to be responsible to fight against Hamas and terrorism, but in reality, the PA does nothing. This was the longest IDF operation in Jenin since Opoeration Defensive Shield (Mar to May 2002, which started following a wave of suicide bombings, and specifically after the murderous terrorist attack on Park Hotel in Netanya, where Jews eating a Passover meal together were targeted and murdered). During the operation that ended yesterday, the IDF uncovered 10 shafts leading to terror tunnels. That's not in Gaza. Let that sink in.

Also, if you see anyone saying, "But Hamas only operates in Gaza!" you'll know they're either ignorant or lying. Hamas only rules Gaza, but it absolutely operates outside it.

Another case in point for that last statement, that Hamas operates outside of Gaza, too. Remember that I posted in my daily update yesterday about the people arrested for having intended to carry out a terrorist attack against Jews in Denamrk? We have more info about that now, and it turns out that 7 people were arrested in total, not just 4, and that they were arrested in 3 countries, not just 2 (so in addition to arrests in Denmark and the Netherlands, terrorists were arrested in Germany as well), and most importantly, the people arrested included Hamas terrorists.

Again, let that sink in. When we tell you that Hamas wants to kill all Jews in the world, that's not just idle talk. It's not just a recent statement, either. Here's a Hamas senior stating as much back in 2019, and they also said as much in their founding charter.

youtube

Maybe just as importantly, these terrorists were taken down thanks to the Mossad's work.

So when we tell you that Jews are safer with Israel existing, that's not just in the case of Jews finding sanctuary from danger in Israel. That's true as well. But there can be Jews, even anti-Zionist Jews, who will lead their entire lives outside of Israel, never realizing that behind the scenes, an antisemitic terrorist attack that could have killed them, was stopped thanks to the fact that the Mossad (Israel's equivalent of the CIA) is in charge not only of protecting Israelis worldwide from terrorist attacks, it's responsible for the safety of all Jews. That's the kind of protection people would rob Jews of, when they advocate for the destruction of Israel, or even "just" the destruction of Israel as a Jewish state.

I thought this was a great response. From Letters to the Editor, Los Angeles Times:

Hanukkiahs lit in honor of the Israeli hostages, in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem, on the last night of Hanukkah (the song is Come Back by Idan Raichel, performed by Roni Delumi, and its chorus goes, "Come back, come back, today / I so wanted you to arrive / I wish you'd come without announcing it this very day"):

These are 26 years old Yovel Sharvit and 27 years old Mor Trabelsi:

They married exactly a month before the Hamas massacre. On Oct 7, they were at the Nova music festival. Yovel survived, but Mor was shot to death in front of her eyes. Yovel participated as a model in a special fashion show, meant to call attention to the victims of Hamas, and especially to the sexual violence perpetrated that day. Yovel wore a wedding dress reminiscent of her own, with blood stains on, and groping hands. The dress also features sentences in Hebrew and Arabic that Yovel heard on or about that day. The dress is torn at the top, as per Jewish mourning customs. The make up artist recreated Yovel's real wounds on her back, and just as importantly, the deadly gunshot wound that killed Mor, on Yovel's forehead.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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emhasthoughts · 1 year ago

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Gertrude and the cat-avatars

Summary: Gertrude let one cat in. Said cat has a habit of bringing in other cats.

A/N: During @dcartcorner's stream the topic of avatars as cats came up and I decided to write a little something for it. I have another part with the Distortions that might be posted later. Also worth noting: I do not own a cat, never have, I'm horrible with cat breeds, so I've tried to describe Simon/Peter/Elias through this art and Mike's look is taken from this

Lastly: Not beta read by someone else, just me and my lil google document.

Pt 1, You're here! / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, John, Jane, Maxwell, Manuela / Pt 5, Jon, Martin, Sasha, Tim / Pt 6, Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Georgie / Pt 7, Jared, Gerry, Nikola / Bonus, a visit to the vet / Halloween bonus!

Simon was the first cat she actually adopted. It had been one of her coworkers who had wanted to get rid of him due to their financial situation and asked Gertrude about it. Claiming that he was old and an inside cat, easy to take care of. She had agreed. Thinking it would be easy and that, in the worst case, Simon would not live for long after getting him. She could not have been more wrong.

Sometimes he could have passed as a kitten. Rather small for what he was meant to be, thin despite the amount of food he ate, his gray fur was not fluffy enough to hide how thin he could look. Despite it all, the veterinarian had claimed him healthy. He was also not that much of an indoor cat. Sometimes, whenever he felt like it, he would wander out of the house, sometimes gone for days. Gertrude did not mind it that much. He was a rather loud and talkative cat after all.

Simon also had a habit of getting more cats to her doorstep.

One day she opened the door to see small Simon standing proudly in the middle of two new cats. One looked nearly ridiculous next to him. Light beige and at least three times bigger and fluffier, with yellow eyes that sort of made it look like he did not want to be there. To the other side was a mainly brown cat, who seemed to be in a perfect middle of size and fluff. A bit of white around the eyes, nose, stomach and paws. He looked at her with judgemental green eyes and for a moment she worried if a cat could actually see into someone’s soul. Since they kept coming back she had named the two Peter, the fluffy cat and the other Elias.

Peter came and went. Similarly to Simon, he could be gone for days, maybe even weeks. Whenever he was home he was with Elias and/or Simon, being quiet and calm. Elias was probably the most judgemental cat she had ever come across. He was not really loud or overly talkative, but he could spend hours in a corner just looking at her without blinking. It was a bit creepy and sometimes it felt like he was secretly planning to kill her in her sleep.

Four months ago Simon was gone for a week, only to come back in with a very disgruntled cat. Looking rather similar to Peter, though smaller, thinner bit of brown around the eyes, paws, tip of ears and tail, including a branching scar most visible on the back. Despite the cat not being a small kitten, Simon still managed to drag them there. The cat had seemingly accepted its fate, making Gertrude question how far from home they were.

She had taken the cat to a veterinarian the day after. It was a male, named Mike, who had once belonged to a couple that passed two years before in a house fire. The scar was older, though it had gotten infected over the two years. She had gotten more of a rundown of everything that was wrong with Mike and she planned to simply let him up for adoption, except Simon did not seem to leave Mike’s side. So, Gertrude accepted Mike in. If only until he was healthy again, by then Simon would hopefully be over it.

Since then Gertrude had tried to throw Mike back on the streets while Simon was away. Except the pair kept coming back. Which caused her current situation. Sitting on her sofa, trying to watch TV, except she found herself staring at Mike, who had made himself comfortable on the shelf next to a vase, glaring back at her. His paw slowly raising towards the vase, never breaking eye contact. Gertrude narrowed her eyes. Until -

There was no crash. The vase was no longer on the shelf but it was also not shattered on the ground. Her eyes did not leave the falling - flying? - vase. It did not really stop the small cat from glaring at her.

Gertrude had no real clue how long it was like that. The vase floating on the spot, her looking at the vase and Mike glaring at her. Like a picture, frozen in time. At least until -

CRASH

Well fuck.

#mike crew #simon fairchild #peter lukas #elias bouchard #gertrude robinson #cat avatars #mention of past fire #very brief mention of death #tell me if I should add anything

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krillium · 7 months ago

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Having Thoughts once more about Jon and Martin, especially Jon. I think Jon fell in love with Martin around S2-S3 AND that he never really hated him. I'm not going to say he didn't bully him without justification because he did. What I'm going to say is why he did it.

When I was six-seven, I was heavily bullied. In this context, I targeted another student. I'm not proud of this, but it's something I did, so I have to accept it happened. I didn't hate her, not really. We just had some sort of rivalry that I took too far.

I believe Jon was in a somewhat similar situation. He didn't hate Martin per se, he probably just felt inferior due to all the teasing and challenges to his authority of Tim and Sasha who were supposed to be his friends. I don't think either of them did it with malicious intentions but Tim was the popular kind of guy and that type of people hurt the weird kids without realising. What for Tim was light-hearted teasing, for Jon was a way of losing control and he probably felt made fun of. So in order to feel in charge... There was Martin.

This is just an explanation, not a justification whatsoever. That's not a good way to deal with that situation. What he did was wrong. Completely wrong and cruel. Most bullies have been bullied before and that doesn't justify anything.

So he didn't really believe what he said, I don't think he even knew Martin would hear those tapes. And that brings us to Martin's statement. There, he tried to stop Martin, probably to protect him from the nightmares (by this point he had taken at least one live statement, but he hadn't taken any from his assistants). Which is not an act of love, but of bare human decency. But he also let him his cot. That's also not an act of love, but a boss being nice and caring while still being a boss.

Then there is a shift after the confrontation in S2, there, he starts to appreciate what Martin does and it's somewhat proud of him. That's when he must have started to fall in love with him. Because Georgie recognised Martin with only the description that Jon gave her. Also, why else would Georgie tell Jon to talk to Martin?

Some argue that Martin said they only bonded by trauma and Jon didn't correct him. Well, are you really going to believe the supernaturally depressed character and the incapable of expressing his emotions character about... Emotions? Yeah, sorry, no, I don't think they're right. I'm not saying they didn't bond over trauma because it just isn't true, but they could have bonded over other things. More slowly, probably, but they would.

Ah, almost forgot. The Martin and Elias conversation. Elias didn't have any material of Jon being actually terrible, in fact, any extra information would have proven otherwise. That's one of the reasons he didn't do that. Also, Martin's mother was more important to Martin than his crush on Jon, so there's also that.

Jon was terrible, but not due to hate. And he did get better. Also, Jon did mean the "let's gouge our eyes out and leave this hell" conversation. He was desperate for an excuse to just leave. And he would have. He let Jared take two ribs from him just to save Daisy. Do you really think he wouldn't do anything just as crazy for Martin?

#i have strong feelings about this #really strong feelings #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmrt #jmart

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rise-my-angel · 8 months ago

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It is much easier for me to believe that Lyanna was manipulated by Rhaegar in some way, if not outright kidnapped. You won't believe me but I have seen people argue that since we know her personality was like Arya's so how could she "allow" herself to be kidnapped ��🤦 as if Arya doesn't get kidnapped so many times. The biggest evidences though for Rhaegar being a sinister figure are found all over Sansa's story. Bael-ish kidnaps Sansa, Joffrey sings a song for her and Marillion offers to make a song for her, calling her a rose, and all these men sexually assaulted her. Tyrion on their wedding, wears rubies and he forcibly married her.

My best guess for what actually happened is that the only way in which Lyanna "allowed" herself to get kidnapped, was by not pulling out a sword she didn't have/was not trained to even use, and fight back against grown men trained in combat.

So, here's my theory:

What likely happened, (in my opinion just to cover my ass), is that Rhaegar at the tourney at Harrenhal gifts the crown of love and beauty to the already betrothed 14 year old Lyanna, since he likely knows that Elia will not be able to have more children after Aegon is born, considering she known to be prone to illness and was in medical distress for some months after giving birth to Rhaenys. And at this point he is obsessed with this prophecy and he thinks he needs three heads of a dragon, i.e three children born of his line. And he will need a third child from someone after Elia can't give him more. So, he chooses Lyanna and has to bide his time.

It isn't an unreasonable guess to say that it probably was becoming more well known that Lyanna didn't want to marry Robert due to his irresponsible appetite for bedding many women. It makes sense people could put that together, Lyanna is dedicated to her family and Robert would undoubtedly be unfaithful their entire marriage. If Rhaegar has developed an obsession with her being the one to provide him that third child, it makes sense he learns she is unhappy in her betrothal.

Likely somewhere around the Vale is where this happened, considering the timeline of where all of the Starks currently were at the time she disappeared. So when she is in the south, Rhaegar has a lot more resources to do this. So he waits for a time Lyanna is alone and approaches her. Now she's just a 15 year old girl now suddenly alone with the Crown Prince, likely as intimidated as she is a little star struck considering who he is. Rhaegar needs to lure her away far enough that she won't just run for help. So he promises that as the prince, he can help legally break Lyannas unhappy betrothal for her but does not tell her how.

Offer her something she wants without details and get her to come with him. By the time Lyanna likely put together this isn't what she thought it was and that she's too far away from her family to be safe, is when the actual kidnapping occurs. She goes with him willingly thinking he wants to just help her with something in her life, with no way of knowing he was about to separate her from her family.

By the time Lyanna realizes she is in a bad situation, she's too far away from anywhere she knows to get help and has no choice but to go with him. She is 15 years old, she's just a girl now fearing for her life if she tried to run or fight now. And by the time he takes her to Dorne, he keeps her in a tower with three of the best Kingsguard to ensure she does not escape and no one comes to get her out. He then stays there until he knows shes pregnant, a situation she also likely did not fight back on because of how isolated and powerless she already is here. She is all alone, fighting back could mean her life.

Then of course, word gets out of what Rhaegar has done, Brandon Stark, who has no way of knowing he's taken her to Dorne, goes to Kings Landing to try and demand his sisters return, accompanied along with their father to help and the rest is history.

Make no mistake. They never spoke before that day.

Rhaegar was the Prince and heir to the Iron Throne, who is married to a Dornish Princess and now has 2 children of his own including his own son and heir. Lyanna is a 14-15 year old girl, and the firstborn daughter of a major Northern house who live a thousand miles apart in completely different regions of the country. They would NEVER have been able to share any correspondence together and no one knew or would have found out long before that day.

Ravens dont just fly to the person the letter is for, it goes through a system of people, usually a Maester who facilitates the incoming and outgoing letters, who then either himself or a squire, hand delivers the letter to the correct person. Note most times especially in the first season, when important letters are delivered to the Starks its by either Maester Luwin or Grand Maester Pycelle, and the letters seals have already been opened, hence why they know who to deliver the letter to. Example: How would Luwin have known the letter at the start of the series was from Lysa or how would he have known it specifically was for Catelyn if he did not have to open it first to read its contents to find out.

SOMEONE in the Stark household would have realized that the 14-15 year old Lyanna was receiving letters from the Prince, if not just someone important from Kings Landing, and stepped in then and there. And if he wrote her out of the blue, the first thing Lyanna would have done was tell her family that the PRINCE had sent her a letter. We know the Starks are all very honest with each other, if he wrote her out of the blue, she would've told her brothers.

Also, there are spies everywhere in Kings Landing. If Rhaegar was sending secret letters, someone would've found that out and to whom. Note Catelyn had said she doesn't trust a raven to carry the words to Ned about the attempt on Brans life, or her saying Lysa's head would be on a spike if the wrong person read her letter about the Lannisters. Meaning even she well knows that it is very easy for letters to get into the wrong hands.

Someone (lets be real, probably Varys) would have learned Rhaegar was sending letters to Lyanna. Which in the well over a decade after her death, would have said something to SOMEONE that they were sharing correspondence. Davos line in season 2 of "Lord Varys knows what you had for breakfast three days ago. There are no secrets here." Is clear cut enough to imply that even a man who grew up in Flea Bottom, knows that if you live in Kings Landing, Lord Varys knows you and your secrets already.

Rhaegar was not sending secret letters to Lyanna and no one knew or no one said anything in the conflict that followed or in the decades since.

Lyanna did not run away nor go to him willingly, she would have no way to even communicate with the Crown Prince and heir to the Iron Throne without a single soul learning that information. Her family would have found out and the Starks would have done something about it then and there.

Lyanna likely went with him thinking that he was taking her somewhere reasonable to help her legally end a betrothal she didn't want, not knowing it meant he was taking her away from her family and by the time she realized, she was likely too powerless and in lands she's never been in before to try and run.

Also Lyanna deeply cares about her brothers. The story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree is all the evidence needed to show that she is deeply loving and loyal to her family and the people of the North. She would not run from them just beacuse of a betrothal she didn't like, she loved her brothers dearly.

She was taken from them. She was tricked into walking into a kidnapping under false pretenses. Rhaegar was a fully grown man in a position of great power who used Lyanna's young naivety and venerability to his advantage.

Lyanna did not need to be carried away kicking and screaming for it to still be a kidnapping.

Also the idea that Lyanna did not want to marry Robert because he already had bastards and slept around, would leave her entire life and family behind to run away with a man who is married with 2 children is braindead.

And if I even hear the word annulment, I will explode into rage like I'm Oberyn Martell's fucking head.

#shoutout to miniaturewizardstudentsworld for helping fill in some missing details of this theory for me #im gonna risk tagging but it if the tags suddenly disappear #it means someone happened in my inbox okay we all know the drill on this blog by now #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #lyanna stark #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar #anti rhaegar stans #anti rhaegar x lyanna #anti rhaelya #anti targ stans #long post

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hb-writes · 2 years ago

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Mirrors

Summary: It’s 1922 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but he did know that there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane. There seemed to be very little space between his sister and his wife though, something that bothered John more than he cared to admit, the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara.

Request (from @cas-kingdom): “What do you need?” “You.” would be totally adorable for John & Clara. Congrats on 4 years of LLB!!

(Note: this is the second story based on the same prompt because both ideas bit me and I couldn’t let go.)

Characters: John Shelby, Esme Shelby, Elias Shelby, and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: nothing much, I think.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

John allowed a good natured roll of his eyes as the front door eased open. The damn thing had creaked from the very day he and Martha moved in. John could’ve fixed it easily, but after all this time, he decided he liked the familiarity of it. He didn’t mind his brothers joking that John did not lock his doors because the creaking was so loud it would alert him of any intruders. It reminded him of Martha and it did serve as a sort of warning, especially in the quiet of an emptied out house.

As he heard the sound now, John wondered which of the kids would be coming back through to intrude on his peace. One of them must’ve forgotten something—that wasn’t a surprise. A favorite toy, a hat, a shoe…John wouldn’t be surprised whatever it was. Especially if it was Katie. John was quite certain that little girl would lose her head if it wasn’t properly attached.

She mirrored her Uncle Finn in that way—a little scattered, always on the bloody move. John thought he could see a bit of his brothers and sisters and himself reflected in each of the kids and some days, on coming home to the raucous bunch, he was reminded of his childhood in the best and the worst of ways. And even though John was their father, he felt almost as if he simply melted into their dynamic. Some days, it was a relief to lose himself in his children—to pass a few hours being silly and carefree. But other evenings, it was too much to come home to the familiar attitudes and behaviors, little copies of the trying family members he’d spent all day dealing with.

Days like that—days like today—Esme took them all out of the house to give John time to decompress after arriving home for the shop. Like a premonition, Esme always seemed to know, even without John realizing he needed it.

But he did need it.

Some days depending on what he was tasked with, John just needed a moment to come back to himself before being with the kids, to let all the other stuff fall away, to be reminded that the family dynamics he’d grown up with didn’t have to be the same ones he raised his kids with. That the traits his kids had gotten from the rest of the Shelbys were just that—traits. His frustrations with his brothers and his aunts had no need of being taken out on his kids...on his wife.

John knew it, but he wasn’t always aware of it creeping in. Esme always seemed to sense it better than he did. She knew when her husband needed to get himself straight. She never called attention to it though, always able to make up some perfectly reasonable excuse for why all of the children needed to come with her and leave the house empty for a bit even if it was just before dinner time. Even if it was not remotely convenient for her or the kids.

And there was something about Esme’s way that those kids, the ones who always had a million protests and questions…they never questioned it when she announced they were going out. They didn’t back talk to her the way they might to John. It was like she held some sort of magic over them all. John thought sometimes maybe she did.

Esme Shelby Lee certainly had him in a thrall, anyway.

They’d only be gone for half an hour, but that would be time enough. John took a sip of his drink, still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table as he waited for whoever it was to come back through. Sarah, he hoped. John figured he could handle his oldest daughter for just a few minutes.

Yes, he decided. He far preferred it to be Sarah coming through the door. He couldn’t handle any of the other children just now—not Katie, who was a bit like Finn, or Joey, who was somehow both a bit of Tommy and a bit of Arthur at the same time, and certainly not Robbie, who was too much like John. Thankfully, the baby wasn’t like much of anyone yet, not discernibly anyway, but he knew his infant wouldn’t be crawling through the door.

John took another sip of his drink as careful footsteps sounded in the front room. He knew it wasn’t just the time alone but also the glass of whiskey that eased the day’s tensions. Somewhere along the line, he’d convinced himself it helped. He’d convinced himself he needed it.

John called out before the kitchen door swung open. “What do you need—”

He started as his sister came through the door, still in her school uniform, looking like she’d run the whole way there from the other side of Birmingham. “Oh—Clara. Uh…Esme’s out with the—”

Clara shook her head. “No,” she choked out, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the bag of school books fell to the floor. Her eyes were rimmed red with tears and John realized she wasn’t just out of breath from running here.

“Alright,” John shifted in his chair. “What do you—?”

“You. John, I—” The words came out hard, like whatever she intended to say really was a need and not a want. As Clara’s voice devolved into a sob, she became incoherent to her brother, whatever else she had been about to tell him lost in the tears and uncontrollable breathing. John had not a single clue as to what it might have been his sister needed, what she was trying to tell him. It usually frustrated him a bit, having to guess at whatever Clara wasn’t saying and lately, Esme had been taking over where Clara was concerned. Esme understood her better. He figured it was a female thing.

He’d grown used to his sister showing up unannounced or inviting herself over for dinner or for a long weekend. Most of the time, she was looking for Esme, but she’d been spending more time with them in general—with him, and Esme, and the kids. Clara and Esme had formed a certain bond though, a bit of a conspiratorial relationship that John didn’t wholly understand or particularly enjoy. There were secrets between his wife and his sister that he wasn’t comfortable with them having though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the details. Esme often informed him that what she and Clara talked about wasn’t any of his business, anyway.

John let it be. He tried for acceptance, but he would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t bother him just a bit—the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara and making him a little jealous that his sister seemed to be closer with his wife than him these days.

John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane.

And it still hadn’t seemed enough for Clara. She filled her time with finding excuses to be away from Arrow House, passing her weekends with John and Esme when she could manage it, but John wasn’t expecting her at his place now—not for a few hours, at least.

She should’ve been across the city in a classroom still. Or maybe, she should’ve been just about to head over to the office down on Jamaica Row. Someone was probably waiting on her at the school.

A Blinder.

The high and mighty King Thomas, himself, maybe.

It didn’t quite matter who was waiting on Clara though because she was here, in John’s kitchen, sputtering on the other side of the room. Whatever tension that had been clinging to John, the tension that had had Esme taking the kids out within a minute of him passing over the threshold eased. John’s mind stopped working to figure his sister out, to make sense of her sudden presence, deciding it didn’t quite matter. He stood up and crossed the kitchen to pull Clara against his chest.

Clara held her brother tight, immediately shifting so her arms were clinging onto him.

“Alright. It’s alright,” John soothed. Part of him wished she’d loosen her hold on him just a bit, but he didn’t moan or try to shift her any, letting her take what she needed for as long as she wanted.

John eased his hold when Clara started to pull away, lifting her arm to wipe at her face while she leaned her head against his chest.

“Does Tommy know—?”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled. “Tommy can fuck off.”

John snorted. “Don’t want to get on your bad side, eh?”

Clara pushed away from John and shoved her elbow into his side.

“Oi! Knock it off!” he huffed, pulling Clara back to his chest and settling her in a gentle headlock. “Thought you wanted me.”

Clara sighed. She tugged his arm down and settled against him once again. “I do.”

“Be nice then,” John mumbled. He placed a kiss on Clara’s head.

Clara took a deep breath, her eyes trained on the floor as she scuffed her feet against the well-worn hardwood. “I want to come home.”

John settled his hand on his sister's head. “You are home, Clara.”

His house was as good as hers, the way he saw it. She certainly spent enough time there.

“No, John.” Clara shook her head against him. “I want to be back for good. Back on Watery Lane.”

John hummed, but the sound was neutral—more of an acknowledgement than anything else. They both knew it wasn’t up to them, either one of them. Tommy said where Clara went. He said where she rested her head and where she learned her sums and where she was employed. The arrangement wasn’t documented or official, but it was good as law as far as they were all concerned. For years and years, it had been that way.

“What’s brought this on?” He asked.

“I just want to be here,” Clara answered. “I can help with the kids and—”

“There’ll be a kid at Arrow House you can help with soon enough,” John said.

Clara shook her head. She’d already decided that Tommy and Grace would have no need of her help. They had already hired a full staff for the house, nanny and all. They’d have Mary look after Charles. And Clara was quite certain that Mary didn’t like her.

“Tommy doesn’t need me,” she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “He doesn’t want me…said he doesn’t need me at the office anymore. Doesn’t want me in the business anymore.”

“He said all that?”

Clara pretended to sift through her mind for Tommy’s exact words, though she remembered them very clearly. He’d been so short in his explanations, his decree that she was done working for now, but it hadn’t felt to Clara like Tommy’s heart was in it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Clara said. “She’s put him up to it…she thinks I need to be focused on my schooling….but I can do both. If he doesn’t need me downtown, I can work in the shop instead, can’t I? You could use me and I can stay here and help with the kids and—“

“Of course I could use you,” John said, knowing his sister was better with math than most of the other buffoons in the shop and that Esme would probably relish in having his sister to lend a hand with the kids, “but if Tommy says—“

“I don’t care what Tommy says. He’s not—“

“In charge of us?” John suggested, cutting her off. “I’m surprised he’s not here already to collect you and give us both a telling off.”

Clara deflated a bit. “Can’t you just tell him I’m staying with you? Just tell him you and Esme need me to sit with the kids tonight?”

“Yeah, and are you actually going to sit with them?” he asked.

“I can…if you want,” she said, the volume of her voice lowering as she continued. “But maybe you and Esme want to stay in? I’m sure the kids would like it.”

John hummed. “Yeah, the kids would like it, sure.”

It wasn’t as if Clara’s words were untrue. John knew his kids would love a night in with their parents and aunt as Clara suggested, but there was more to it than that. It was Clara who wanted her brother close. It was Clara who wanted a night on Watery Lane, insulated from the rest of her world by her brother and sister-in-law and nieces and nephews.

“Can you talk to him?”

John sighed, nodding despite himself. “But if he wants you home, I’m not fighting him. It’s not worth it, alright? If he puts up a fight, you go on for the weekend and you can come to us next week as planned.”

Clara nodded, “And working in the shop?”

Clara let the question linger, cutting

“If you sort things with Tommy…” Clara cut into her brother’s thoughts as she heard the front door creak open, hoping it wasn’t Tommy coming to find her. “I’ll sort our dinner tonight…”

Esme came into the kitchen with all five children in tow. She plopped the baby in John’s arms and handed the bag of groceries to Clara before lowering herself into the chair and running her hands over her swollen belly.

“If your sister’s offering to cook me dinner, you do whatever she wants, John.”

John had no desire to get between his brother and his sister. He had enough disagreements racked up with Tommy without counting Clara’s concerns, but John could tell she needed it. She needed to feel someone was on her side, hearing her, listening to her. He knew what it was to feel like no one was listening. And he wasn’t sure Tommy would listen to him, but Polly might. He figured she might be willing to talk to Tommy. And Tommy might be willing to listen if it was Polly’s voice he was hearing.

And now that Esme was involved, it didn’t seem he had much of a choice in the matter anyway.

“Your mother’s said her piece. I guess we’d best go make a few phone calls for your auntie, eh, Eli?” The baby in his lap lifted a chubby hand and smacked it against John’s cheek. He went back for a second and third hit, laughter spilling from his little mouth, seemingly trying to move his father along.

“Alright, mate. Hold on,” John said, standing himself and the baby up and heading toward the telephone.

John paused just over the threshold. He could hear his wife and sister talking, Esme’s voice followed by Clara’s laughter.

Elias patted John’s face again, pulling his attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m going, I’m going,” John said as he continued away from the kitchen.

It would usually have set John a bit on edge, hearing his sister and wife start talking and laughing as soon as he was out of the room, but just now it eased something in John knowing he wasn’t alone in all of this. It was a comfort knowing that his wife knew not just what he needed, but what his kids needed, and his sister, too.

As John lifted the handset, waiting for the operator to connect, Elias cuddled into his father’s chest. John knew the boy had inherited his looks from the Shelby side, but as another bit of tension inside of him melted away at the baby's touch, John thought maybe the boy's intuitive, kind heart might mirror that of his mother.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby #esme lee #esme shelby #shelby sister #shelby!sister #little lady blinder #clara shelby #elias shelby #raise a glass to llb

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anxiousnerdwritings · 2 years ago

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How do you think Oberyn and Ellaria would react for the Joanna! Lookalike reader was poisoned? Would Oberyn still fight for Tyrion?

If we’re going off Joanna!lookalike being the child of Tywin and Joanna in this scenario and having married Oberyn and joined his and Ellaria’s relationship then they would both be extremely overcome at the death of their darling. They both would immediately rush to their darling’s side at the first sign of something being wrong. Given that he trained to be a maester at one point, Oberyn would be doing everything in his power to try and save the Reader.

Ellaria would be absolutely distraught as she clutches onto her and Oberyn’s darling’s lifeless body. She doesn’t want to let go, she doesn’t want to have to leave her love behind. It takes Oberyn having to forcefully pull her away from their darling for her to finally let go. But Ellaria isn’t the only one who’s reeling from what’s just taken place, Oberyn is very much just as distraught and broken. It takes everything in him not to just absolutely lose it in front of everyone in attendance.

Oberyn would not only be overwhelmed with grief but he’s also riddled with anger at who took his darling away from him and Ellaria. Someone poisoned their lover, their wife and he wanted to know who. He and his brother have been planning the revenge of Elia for so long, there’s no doubt he wouldn’t want to avenge his darling too. The only difference is that he would be much more impulsive about it, not waiting for Doran to come up with a long, strung out plan, rather instead allowing his emotions to rule him. If the Mountain had been in attendance and was hovering over Joanna!lookalike given his own attachment for the Reader, Oberyn would have most definitely picked a fight with him right then and there.

Oberyn has never had any liking for any members of House Lannister, his darling being the only exception. In the state he and Ellaria are in, neither can bring themself to defend Tyrion or refute Cersei’s accusations knowing that Joanna!lookalike would do just that given the chance. Even though they’re aware of how close he and the Reader were, that Tyrion would never do such thing (especially not to Joanna!lookalike of all people), Oberyn in particular can’t bring himself to do anything but stay by both his lovers’ sides. He may even be considering whether Tyrion would have actually committed such a heinous act against the Reader. Honestly, Oberyn wouldn’t be surprised if it was true, he doesn’t hold any of the remaining Lannisters to any high regard after all. In his eyes the only good one just died in his and Ellaria’s arms.

I’m torn whether Oberyn would go through with fighting for Tyrion or not. I could see him doing either honestly but I’m leaning more towards he wouldn’t, more so due to Ellaria begging him not to out of fear of losing him too after having just lost their darling. If Oberyn were to fight for Tyrion I think we would only do so to get revenge for Elia of course but also to protect his darling’s brother in her honor cause that’s what she would have done, and this time he’ll aim to kill the Mountain with or without his confession for what happened to Elia. This time around the fight between the Red Viper and the Mountain would be a lot more intense given both their fervent emotions regarding the Reader’s death.

Imagine the Sand Snakes reactions to Joanna!lookalike’s death? They would be plotting the demise of everyone involved with House Lannister given that they most definitely blame the Reader’s family for their death. Whether they think one of the family members did it themself or that it was in retaliation from any of the Lannisters many enemies, either way the Reader’s family won’t be safe from the wrath of the Sand Snakes. Especially if Oberyn ended up dying fighting for Tyrion too. Ellaria would be lucky enough to get out of King’s landing alive in that scenario, there’s no doubt that Cersei would want Ellaria dead too if she had it her way, but then again if she lost Oberyn and the Reader altogether than she’d have a real hard time finding the will to go on if it weren’t for all their children. Especially, if the Reader had a child with Oberyn too then Ellaria would do right by both her lovers and raise all their children with all the love and care she can muster.

Given that Joanna!lookalike would probably end up befriending all of House Martell there’s no doubt that Doran would want to avenge his brothers wife too, especially if Oberyn doesn’t end up fighting for Tyrion and returns home with Ellaria, both completely and absolutely destroyed by the loss of their darling. They wouldn’t even be allowed to bring their darling’s body with them to lay to rest in Dorne. Even Arianne is grief stricken after hearing the news about her beloved new aunt who came to be an important person to her, becoming more akin to a best friend. The only thing left is who’s going to tell Myrcella?

#anxious answers #yandere oberyn martell #yandere ellaria sand #yandere game of thrones #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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checkmatein3moves · 1 year ago

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As we're getting into "big family meal" season, what are the ROs family lives like? Among the rich kids, who's family actually does family-only non-business not-for-clout stuff? Sit down meals, that sort of thing? For the not-rich-as-kids folks, who has/had a good family life? Do they keep in touch or get together with family? How would the ROs feel about getting roped into a significant other's family traditions?

impossible question to answer succinctly. the windhams probably have the most wholesome family dynamic including the most cousins the main branch is actually in contact with, but even out of them, it's rare that every single one ends up home. people are busy, sometimes choose to be with friends, but when it all works out there can be up to 20+ at their place for homely gathering.

the kamyas definitely had comfortable sit down dinners, but since elias died the vibes are not the same. monty and her parents don't have a bad relationship but i don't think she can bear to be around them by herself for a family dinner yet. things probably veer towards business by accident, because of the importance they place on it in regards to bettering the family.

the zus were once tied to the wangs (number 6) through marriage, although none of them were very comfortable with mars. unfortunately he is the kind to have everyone together for unity rather than actual family love, and it was easier to go along with than fight. arguments at the dinner table probably disintegrated that, especially because nobody ever took noir's side, not even his maternal aunts or grandparents, even if they agreed with him and often left him the only one standing up for himself which contributed to his position now. presently, zu family dinners are business affairs with mars, lemon and kai in thin debates, zia and sometimes twenty plus whichever simp might've been lucky enough to get an invite to to get an opportunity from mars.

the vinterens threw elite parties rather than family meals. violeta has obviously never been a big family woman, but the she liked the attention and buzz from guests and the excuse to get absolutely smashed rather than sit around and actually talk to her few relatives left. benz might have put his name on them sometimes but they were probably too indulgent for even him to risk getting his reputation too embroiled with.

the hales would've had nightmarish family dinners back when laurel and ten were children. barely a single night they could be in the same room without laurel and benz fighting, so he would've given up and left them with any of his siblings/cousins/in-laws and their partners that weren't too busy to be there. present day he's doubled down on business even more, so like mars he usually uses dinners as an opportunity to get all his higher ups in one place. since hebe has grown up she's better at diplomacy and sits through them to learn, but they are by no means warm or fun affairs. maybe there was exceptions when MC, hebe and elspeth were kids but maybe they see it through rose coloured glasses.

the sissels are another family that probably ends in arguments at the table, though not out of spite but the sheer amount of stress and pressure they feel from being so new, so to speak, to the lifestyle. otherwise they would probably have a happy family gathering not taken over by gossip and speculation, because their priorities would be different. they do like a spectacle though. fancy desserts and fire tricks and less focus on actually eating the food than being impressive. they do definitely try, though. jelly and pixy are simply too old to keep falling for the facade.

the only lower class character who we (as the MC) can infer anything about is sailor, because honey, jareth and ludo have very obscure family lives. they did have a hodgepodge family that loved them, but when their mother got sick the money problem got exacerbated and the glue of the family disintegrated. all the cracks in the fragile happiness got too large to salvage. they enjoy what they have at the MC's place, even if the MC is the kind of person to expect them to eat with staff instead. the food is better and they have a sustainable way to access it, and they know how to make the most of temporary bonds.

#world questions #can't answer all for spoilers rip

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loosesodamarble · 2 months ago

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Welcome to the Black Bird Part 12: Elias the Blissful

Summary: Introducing Henry as Elias, the purest sweetheart to walk the floors of the Black Bird. Genre: general Word count: ~900 A/N: @cringeyvanillamilk was commissioned for the art of Henry.

..........

Henry’s life came to him in two ways.

The first way was with his parents’ money. His parents paid off medical bills. His wheelchair and crutches were bought for him. An apartment with accessibility, a college experience, and basically his whole life were all bought with what he inherited from his parents.

The second way was by his own struggle. At the tender age of six, he had to find the resolve to face the prick of needles and the disorientation that came with being put under for surgery after surgery. Henry had to push the wheels of his chair forward and lift himself up with crutches. He was the one to reach out to his apartment neighbors. The one to hunch over a desk and stay awake until unreasonable hours to study. The one to live.

Of course Henry was grateful to his parents who provided what his fragile self needed. But his life had been given to him for free—ironic as it was to say—and he was numb to the idea of money. He knew what it could do but he didn’t know how to value it. Because none of it was ever his own.

Henry wanted to remedy that. To practice earning his own living somewhere small before his education ended and he was thrust into working on a scale much too large for someone as inexperienced as himself.

He scrolled past numerous job listings. Online jobs might’ve been convenient, but Henry didn’t want to stay cooped up in his apartment. Heavy manual labor was out of the question. Several jobs were promising at a glance but failed to accommodate his needs upon closer inspection. Not to mention all the “entry-level” jobs with ridiculous work experience expectations.

Henry paused at one listing: a server at a cafe and one particular line of the job description. “Needs to be willing to act.” What an odd thing to include…

…..

The Black Bird was slow that day.

Without many customers at tables or staff bustling across the floor, the tap of Henry’s crutches against the floor could be noticed if someone wasn’t already focused on something else.

Henry approached a table where a group of four, middle-aged women chatted amongst themselves as they waited for his arrival. They were regulars at the cafe, made evident by their eager smiles when they saw Henry approach.

“Elias!” one of the ladies called with a boisterous voice. “Oh you poor dear, you’re on your crutches today!” Her eyes creased in a look of worry. “Can’t Lady Nero give you the day off?”

“Madame Oriana, you’ve nothing to worry about,” Henry replied with a relaxed grin. “I admit to aching a bit today, but it’s nothing too severe for me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to miss out on a day of seeing lovely faces such as your party today.”

At his statement, the ladies cooed over him.

“If only my son was half as cute as you, then I’d be a proud mama!”

“Elias, do tell me if you want a girlfriend, I have a niece who would be right up your alley!”

“Oh my! I could never be worthy of dating the family of one of you fine women,” Henry playfully bantered.

“Ever the sweetheart,” the most petite of the women, Lou Ann, remarked. “Let me give you a pat, Elias. You deserve one.”

Henry chuckled and bowed his head for Lou Ann to give his crown a couple gentle strokes.

“Thank you, Madame,” Henry whispered before raising himself up again. He felt a dull ache in his back as he did so, but his smile never faded. It was hard not to smile when the customers showed him as much love as they did, despite him not always being at his best. “Now I don’t mean to rush you but may I ask if any of you have considered a refreshment to start with?”

…..

Heavenly Mille Trifle. A trifle taken to the next level. Rather than pieces of sponge cake, the dessert had a layer of mille crepe cake. The gelatin layer was a rainbow stripe jelly, each color being a distinct flavor.

The dessert was a complex and overwhelming creation. However, the chefs liked the challenge presented to them, eager to show off their skills. Secre liked it for the unique combination of two desserts. And Henry liked it because the delicate and minute details reminded him of the scale models he meticulously put together for school projects.

The Heavenly Mille Trifle was meant to be “as sweet as Elias himself.” Henry was more than pleased to hear that people thought so well of him. He did his best to treat people well, to bring joy to other people’s lives since he’d been born so blessed.

But where the dessert had many layers to what made it incredible, Henry considered his truest self to be a straightforward person. He faced his studies and his job head-on. He dealt with his disability without shame. And he lived each day to the fullest.

What was simple and what was complex, didn’t really matter in the end. So long as Henry put his all into living, he could smile and be proud of who he was becoming.

#black clover #black clover fanfic #henry legolant #black clover au #butler cafe au #welcome to the black bird series

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raspberryfingers · 2 years ago

Text

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 7)

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape and gore

Word Count: 7k

—————

My grandmother was set upon hearing it from a firsthand witness. ‘It’ being whether or not King Joffrey truly was a beast, or whether he was over exaggerated. I had a feeling deep inside of me that he was the first, but my grandmother desired to speak with Sansa Stark either way, for who else but she would know?

That was how I found myself sitting with my grandmother and Margaery in the gardens, patiently waiting for Loras to retrieve the girl from her chambers. I resigned to the covered balcony in the meantime, for it was much quieter and I could watch the sea.

“Is it too much?”

I turned to look at Margaery as she approached me, and gave her a slight nod. She was of course referring to the various members of our family who had decided to join us in King’s Landing, as they constantly populated the gardens and were currently quite loud with their chatter.

“I would complain about how many men and women came with us from Highgarden, but I know it helps you and grandmother feel more familiar in this horrid place, and that’s enough for me,” I told her, leaning over to kiss her hair as she came to my side and linked our arms. There was so much in life that burdened me, but to be her older sister was never one of them. I supposed I’d been enamored with my siblings from the moment they came into the world, and I’d taken it upon myself to protect and care for them in any way that I could.

“I don’t know how you manage it,” Margaery said, sighing and leaning her head on my shoulder. I returned the gesture, laying my head on top of hers.

“Manage what?”

“Being here without any… any friends.”

I smiled softly and looked down.

“I have you, grandmother, and Loras. That’s quite enough for me. Most of my friends at home are soldiers anyway, and I get quite enough of them here. Plus, Ser Elias arrived in the capital a few days ago and it has certainly made me much happier,” I assured her, hand coming up to gently rub her back. His wife had finally given birth; it was a healthy young boy.

“Well, at least there’s that. On the subject of soldiers, though, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I overheard Father talking with Loras yesterday. Some of our men had quite the brawl with the Lannister soldiers, it seems,” Margaery confessed, giving me quite the shock in doing so. Our men had never been indecent, it was something I demanded of them. You can only keep and command such a large army with rules of behavior and decorum in place, and I’d certainly done so in my father’s stead. That’s why I was rather shocked, because what on earth would have caused such a thing to happen?

“What? What happened, and how is it that Father knows before I do? Yes, they’re technically his armies, but he appointed me head of it years ago for a reason. Usually I’m the first to know when these things happen,” I wondered aloud, also somewhat frustrated by the fact that my father had not even had the sense to tell me such a thing. Nor had anyone else, for that matter, which was especially odd. I usually got quick reports when brawls happened, even if they were rare.

“Well, from what I heard… it was about you,” Margaery noted, and I could hear the hesitation in her voice. I got the sense that she knew more than she was letting on and did not entirely want to tell me.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently two Lannister soldiers were making harsh insults and rather…tasteless comments about you. That was what made our men lunge,” she explained, making me exhale through my nose. I wasn’t surprised in the least.

I’d dealt with men from other armies and groups for quite some time, and just like any woman, I’d been subjected to plenty of insults and lewd comments for nearly my entire life as well. At the very least, it felt good to know my soldiers had my back and would not allow my name to be tarnished in such a way.

“Is Father afraid I’ll be upset?”

“I’m not certain. He told Loras he was meeting with Lord Tywin so they could discuss the conflict. They were supposed to meet yesterday, I believe. I meant to tell you beforehand, but I didn’t see you,” she informed me, making my dread even worse. Dear gods, why had my father thought that going to Tywin Lannister without even mentioning it to me was the best option?

“Don’t worry yourself with it, Margaery. I’m just- I’m quite frustrated that Father did such a thing. He undermined my authority and made me look weak in doing so, even if he didn’t realize it. I’ll speak to Lord Tywin today and clear things up. After this whole interrogation is done, anyway,” I remarked, shaking my head with sheer anger. Of all the things for him to do.

“(Y/N)! Come here, you’ve received a letter.”

I turned around at the sound of my grandmother’s voice, finding Ser Elias standing beside her. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at Margaery, but she shrugged and followed behind me as we approached the two of them.

“A letter?”

“A Lannister soldier brought it,” Ser Elias explained, scratching his short, dark beard. I took it from his free hand and inspected it carefully; the seal was the Lannister sigil, not that of the Hand. Confused and somewhat curious, I opened it and quickly discovered—by the noticeable handwriting of course—that it was in fact from Lord Tywin. I quickly began to read.

Lady (Y/N),

The smith that I requested from Essos arrived in King’s Landing yesterday. I’m asking you to accompany me today, as I’m unfortunately busy the rest of the week, and presume that you would like the sword finished sooner rather than later. Bring your blade and meet me in the stables.

-Tywin Lannister

I smiled as I folded it back up, slipping it into the pockets of my dress. I would finally make this weapon mine, and that thought was thrilling.

“Would you accompany me to my chambers and then to the stables, Ser Elias? There is something I need to get,” I asked rather vaguely. He nodded, but my grandmother raised an eyebrow.

“So, you get some letter and suddenly you’re exempt from this? Shame on you, dear. You ought to care more about your sister's future husband,” she lectured, to which I merely laughed, nodding at her with sarcastic agreement. She was only playing, of course.

“It is from the Lord Hand, grandmother, it would be rude to leave him waiting,” I said, voice full of insincerity. Both my grandmother and Margaery laughed, giving each other a knowing look.

“Oh yes! The Lord Hand, gods forbid he do anything that isn’t on his own time or in his own interest. Go on then, attend to whatever damned thing he’s mentioned. All I ask is that you try not to end an alliance while doing it,” my grandmother scoffed, waving me off.

I merely smiled and gave her an ambiguous shrug, walking away with Ser Elias at my side. As I left, I heard Margaery whisper something which I couldn’t make out. Well, it wasn’t of any importance to me, but the laughs the two of them let out while gazing in my direction were certainly curious.

“So, may I ask what the letter said?” Ser Elias inquired after a moment, turning his head toward me and raising an eyebrow at the sheer excitement on my face. He, more than most, was quite aware of my hatred for Lord Tywin, and so naturally I was sure he thought I’d gone insane.

“A smith has arrived from Essos, one that knows how to work Valyrian steel. Lord Tywin summoned him for me, for nothing moves men like gold does. Either way, I want to get my sword reworked. You’ve seen how big it is right now, I could probably get at least two daggers off the thing,” I explained, feeling myself absolutely beam at the thought. Ser Elias had already seen the sword—in fact, it had been one of the first things I’d shown him when he’d arrived in King’s Landing. Still, the blade had been big for him, and he was around 6’6”. I suspected the man who’d split my side with the thing was at least 7 feet tall.

“It was rather kind of Lord Tywin to do that. We’ll have quite a lot of fun practicing once you’re able to wield the blade. Though, I’m afraid I’m not very well suited for going against you if you’re using two daggers,” he noted, making me smile to myself.

“I know you’re sick of hearing me complain, so I won’t comment upon your first sentiment, but yes, I agree, practice will be fun. As for daggers, the man I was practicing with before you got here seemed to be rather good with that kind of combat. Perhaps I could ask him to join us at some point,” I suggested, walking through the keep and up various flights of stairs without anything more than the gentlest pain. My wound practically was fully healed now, even if there was still the slightest hint of pain. As far as the maesters were concerned though, I could do whatever I wanted to without worrying about it. It had been 10 years since hearing something had made me so happy.

“By all means, ask him. Gods know that you’re far too advanced for me now,” Ser Elias replied, chuckling to himself as we approached my room. We’d gotten here rather quickly, much to my surprise.

“Well, I’d like to remind you that you’re the only reason I am so advanced. You were my first teacher, Elias, and I’ll always be grateful for it,” I said, making sure he wouldn’t forget that fact. He was the one who’d made me passionate about fighting, and who knows if another teacher would’ve done the same?

He only smiled as he pulled the door open for me, and I quickly went to grab the sword. I was impossibly giddy, like a child again. It was already beautiful, I could hardly comprehend how breathtaking it would be once it had a handle to match my armor.

“Can you sheathe it while we walk to the stables? I fear a woman walking around with a sword as big as that might raise lots of eyebrows and questions,” I asked Ser Elias, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind me. He instantly nodded, putting it in his belt and walking a step or two behind me on our way to the stables, for it wouldn’t have seemed proper to any nobles that we passed by if he was next to me.

It thankfully didn’t take very long to get there either, and when we arrived I found Lord Tywin waiting for me. Both of our horses were prepared, and though I didn’t notice it, so were the ones of two Lannister guards.

“Lord Tywin,” I nodded at him, and he did the same in turn, also replying with a brief ‘Lady (Y/N)’. He looked Ser Elias over then, presumably because he was quite tall, and was especially so while standing next to me. I turned back to look at him, and he handed me the sword. Lord Tywin only stood and watched.

“Thank you, Ser. No need to accompany us, Lord Tywin and I should be fine,” I reasoned, to which he simply bowed his head and left. I did not want Ser Elias to be there if my bickering with the Lord Hand got particularly bad. Plus, the two of us had done fine on our own the last time we’d rode through King’s Landing, and we were only going to the street of steel anyway.

“Quite the man, isn’t he?” Lord Tywin said suddenly, pulling his eyes away from the door and looking at me now. I shrugged, handing him the sword so that he could sheathe it for the same reason that I’d had Ser Elias do so.

“Ser Elias has been my guard and closest friend since I was a girl. I suppose I’m used to his height. He’s really not that intimidating at all,” I replied, mounting my horse and looking over as Lord Tywin did the same. He said nothing back, but there was a vague annoyance on his face that I couldn’t figure out. He grumbled something, though I didn’t hear it. I considered asking, but I knew it was not addressed towards me or it would’ve been audible. Lord Tywin was not the kind of man to speak softly.

We spurred the horses, riding casually down the main road of the Red Keep. As we did, I realized two Lannister guards were riding behind us. So much for going on our own, then.

“You know, Lord Tywin, if you were going to have your men accompany us, I could’ve had Ser Elias come instead,” I told him, wondering why he hadn’t protested. Ser Elias and I combined would’ve been ten times more effective than the two fools with us.

“I’m aware,” the Old Lion replied curtly, not even bothering to look at me as he said it. I sighed, knowing that just like always I was going to have to put up with his foul moods before he warmed up.

“There’s no need to be rude, Lord Tywin. I don’t know what has you in such a bad mood, but you did invite me here today, so there’s no point in being bitter. Unless you’re merely afraid of looking happy in front of your men,” I told him, grinning as a sudden urge developed in my head. Before he could say anything, I turned to look back at the guards. I couldn’t see their eyes, but I could feel their discomfort at my observation of them.

“What do you think, gentlemen? Wouldn’t you like to see Lord Tywin smile for once?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at them to suggest I wanted a reply. The two looked between each other and gave me a silent nod, for my word was less incriminating than their lord hearing them say yes. Satisfied, I turned back to Lord Tywin and laughed quietly.

“The vote is unanimous, my lord, you’re allowed to cheer up,” I announced, grinning. He only stayed quiet, and my smile faltered. Even as we left the Red Keep, he still remained silent, and I was beginning to grow irritated. Usually he would at least show frustration and entertain me; right now he was only being boring.

“I regret not bringing Ser Elias, he might’ve made this outing more enjoyable, as clearly you don’t intend to talk to me,” I said rather passive aggressively, looking around the streets as we rode. We were in the nicer part of King's Landing and I still felt miserable. I might as well have been questioning Sansa Stark about Joffrey right now.

“How old is Ser Elias?” Lord Tywin asked suddenly, still sounding rather irritated. I hissed with feigned pain, grabbing at my ears to suggest that he hadn’t spoken in so long that the sound of his voice was too loud for me. When he glared, I rolled my eyes and relented. So he wasn’t a statue after all.

“He’s 13 years older than I am, so I suppose about 38 now,” I guessed, doing the math in my head and shrugging. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d thought about it.

“Is he married?”

“Yes, his first son was just born this month, that’s why he’s only now arrived from Highgarden. Why?” I adjusted my grip on the reins, glancing back and forth between the street and the man beside me as I waited for an answer. Lord Tywin again, said nothing, and I sighed. Why did he care so damn much about Ser Elias? That was when it clicked.

Did he believe Ser Elias had romantic feelings for me?

I began to laugh, and I gaped at Lord Tywin, who had raised a quizzical eyebrow in response to my rather loud giggling. He did not look amused, but still felt obligated to question me anyway.

“What?”

“Did you think that Ser Elias was in love with me? Is that why you were asking questions about him?” I asked, still laughing and finding myself unable to stop. That was the most impossible scenario on earth, though I supposed that anybody who hadn’t really seen the two of us interact wouldn’t be aware.

“If you’ve known him for that long and are so close to him, it was only a natural assumption. If he doesn’t have affection for you now, he has at some point, I promise,” Lord Tywin said, a slight hint of anger in his voice. I had positively no clue why he was angry about such a random subject, but I supposed he was always angry in general.

“And how would you presume to know anything about Ser Elias? It’s a very bold assumption to make,” I told him, thinking it absolutely ridiculous. I could still recall listening to him go on about how beautiful and perfect his wife was, even long before they’d gotten married. Plus, he’d always referred to me as a daughter of sorts. If anything, that should’ve made Lord Tywin vehemently against the idea, for he was quite good at denying the existence of incestious relationships.

“He’s a man and he’s got a pair of working eyes. Not to mention, he has at least half a brain,” he said, looking over at me with both eyebrows raised. I scoffed at him, shaking my head and almost finding his sentiment amusing.

“By those requirements, Lord Tywin, you ought to be madly in love with me. You disprove your own point. Ah, well, I suppose you did say at least half a brain. You may fail to reach that standard,” I reasoned, watching his face go tense for a moment. I grinned, enjoying that at least the insult had gotten to him, for I’d never seen him make that expression before.

“Let’s dismount here, the street gets too narrow up that way, and it’s a short walk,” he said suddenly, changing the subject. I huffed out, but did as he suggested anyway. The two guards behind us did the same, and Lord Tywin handed his reins to one of them.

“Go tie them up, and take Lady Tyrell’s horse too,” he ordered, only looking at the men briefly. The other one came up to me, taking my own horse and moving off to the side.

Lord Tywin looked at me after a moment, motioning that we walk. I moved over to be beside him, and from there we began our stroll toward the smith. I was only grateful that the weather was nice today.

“Lord Tywin, now that the guards aren’t with us, may I ask you something?” I questioned after a moment, noticing that we’d left them a bit behind. He merely raised an eyebrow at me, which I knew was a signal for me to do so. I swallowed, trying to figure out how to begin.

“I- well, I’ve heard that my father met with you over a conflict between our bannermen. May I ask why I was not included in that discussion? I am the head of the Tyrell army, and I know the conflict began because of comments made about me, but I would have liked to be consulted in the matter regardless,” I said, folding my hands behind my back to not appear so anxious.

“And I had told your father as much, but he was adamant that it was unnecessary to involve you. I would guess that he simply did not wish to upset you, though he should’ve known you’d find out anyway. I did not fight him on it, I’ve got far too little time for such things. Either way, it’s all been dealt with, and rest assured we kept your best interests in mind,” Lord Tywin informed, keeping his gaze ahead of us at all times just as mine was. Even if not in Flea Bottom, it was important to be alert at all times in King’s Landing.

“What happened? In terms of consequences, I mean,” I asked him, desiring to know what the outcome of their meeting had been. I was going to be rather upset if my men had been subjected to some harsh punishment at Lord Tywin’s command, though he had sounded genuine enough. Then again, what did he and my father know about ‘my best interests’?

“For your men, nothing. I assured your father that they were in the right to defend you, especially because they were being provoked. However, the two Lannister soldiers that were making rude and distasteful comments have lost their tongues.”

I stopped walking, my mouth falling open for a moment. I was shocked, but Lord Tywin did not seem phased at all. He only stared at me blankly as I attempted to process what I had just heard him say.

“You cut out their tongues for making a couple of lewd comments about me?” I clarified, wondering if that was not the only reason. At least, I hoped it wasn’t, because if it was, it naturally meant that the two men had said something quite serious.

“Yes, I did. Lannisters, even soldiers, have a reputation to uphold. I will not have my men making unbecoming comments about noble women, and especially not about you. As the head of the Tyrell army, of course,” he said, pausing after the ‘especially not about you’ bit. I swallowed, finding it in myself to begin walking again. Lord Tywin did the same once I was at his side.

“What could have possibly been so horrible it warranted that? What in the seven hells did they say? And don’t bother making it more ‘proper’, I deserve to know,” I told him, not able to imagine what would’ve been so bad that he’d felt the need to take such an action. Lord Tywin was quiet for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not he ought to tell me. When he opened his mouth, he could not meet my eyes.

“From what the two men told me personally, they were taunting your soldiers and saying they would… ‘rape you’ and ‘enjoy making the tears stream down your face’ as they…” Lord Tywin trailed off, and when I looked over at him there was a deep conflict in his eyes—a sort of solemn anger. My stomach had already dropped; I figured I might as well hear all of it.

“Please tell me, Lord Tywin,” I whispered, giving him a pleading look. He swallowed and licked his lips nervously. I’d never seen him act so anxious before, and it was extremely unsettling.

“As they made you… ‘gag on their cocks’, and took turns- took turns… ‘filling your cunt’,” Lord Tywin said quietly, clearly struggling to get through it. His eyebrows contorted in all different manners, and his eyes narrowed as he spoke. I could hear the disgust—along with the upset—in his voice, and he only looked down at me once quite a bit of silence had followed his statement.

I was quiet, trying to process what I’d just heard. I was no longer even thinking about the fact that they’d had their tongues removed, only about what they’d said. There was a cold anxiety rushing over me, because even if I knew that they couldn’t actually do such a thing to me, the picture of it was still in my mind.

I felt my lower lip begin to tremble involuntarily, and I could not make it stop. I was afraid, even despite the bravery that I was so accustomed to flaunting during tourneys and battles. I had already been assaulted before, and that had impacted me in a quite significant way. I could not even comprehend how I would manage to move on if men like those two, or even the Baratheon soldier, ever got the chance to act on their words.

“I shouldn’t feel grateful for what you ordered, but I am,” I said quietly, finally looking up at Lord Tywin with glossy eyes. His own eyes softened when he saw the look on my face, and he nodded gently.

“After the Battle of Blackwater, Lady (Y/N), you chided me that the man who gives the order ought to do it himself. You will be pleased to know that I took your statement to heart,” he told me, somehow filling me with even more shock.

“You- You cut their tongues off yourself?” I asked, clearing my throat from the block that had seemed to form as a response. I was looking over at him with wide eyes, and when he met my gaze, he was perfectly composed.

I saw it in his eyes: him ordering his guards to grab the two men after they’d been interrogated. The two faceless men would have panicked as they watched Lord Tywin pull out his blade, informing them that he intended to remove their tongues. I could picture them squirming and struggling to break free, but they would not. The only thing they would do was scream as the guards held their mouths open and the Lord of Casterly Rock himself gripped and cut. In my sick fantasy, I could see their blood splattering onto his hands, and I could see just how unphased Lord Tywin looked while doing it.

When I came back to the present, Lord Tywin stopped walking and turned to face me. I similarly froze, waiting for whatever he was going to reply with. His breathing had become more intense.

“Yes, I did, and I’ll do it again if any man dares to say such things about you, gods forbid actually act upon it. You may criticize my brutality, Lady (Y/N), but know that if a man ever does such a thing, he will face more wrath than you can possibly imagine. I promised to keep you safe from such assault, and I will do so,” he assured me, voice more than just serious as he did so. My lips parted as I gazed up at him, looking back and forth between his eyes.

The Great Lion of the Rock, that was what they called him. My heart—despite how much I claimed to hate this man—swelled at his sentiments. I ought to have been angry, or to have lectured Lord Tywin about his cruelty, but I could not. Somewhere inside this cruel, cold man, there was genuine care, and it made me feel more safe than anything ever had.

I said nothing, but I nodded at the Lord Hand, and he knew that I was too overwhelmed to speak. We began to walk once more, and I felt myself drifting closer to him. I did not look at him as I did it, but I reached for Lord Tywin’s arm and clung to it with both of my hands. When he adjusted himself so that I could hold on more comfortably, I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Today had changed something for me, even despite the fact that I’d tried very hard to uphold my hatred for Tywin Lannister. It was not the gifts that had done it, nor had it been saving my life, but it had been this gesture. To know that he genuinely sought to protect me, to make certain that I was safe. That was what had broken my firm hatred for this man.

“Are you alright, Lady (Y/N)?” Lord Tywin asked softly after a moment, looking down at me. I nodded against his arm, not particularly knowing what to say. There really wasn’t anything for me to say. He cleared his throat after a moment, looking ahead again as we turned onto another street. “I’m well aware of the fact that you detest me, but please know that-”

“I don’t,” I said quickly, cutting him off. With his usual stern look, he raised an eyebrow at me. I swallowed, stuttering quite a bit as I tried to get my point across. “I- I apologize for interrupting you, Lord Tywin, but I merely wanted to clarify that, well, I don’t hate you. Sure, you’re still an insufferable cu- you’re still insufferable a lot of the time, but I don’t hate you, per say.”

“And what of your infamous vow to loathe me until the day you die?” he questioned, surprising me with his knowledge of its existence. I supposed it made sense that he’d found out, it wasn’t as if I’d exactly kept my vow a secret.

“Well, perhaps my heart stopped beating for a few moments during the Battle of Blackwater. At least, I hope it did. It would be a far less degrading explanation,” I replied, lifting my head and giving him a somewhat cheeky smile. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head at how ridiculous I was. He had laughed though, and that was quite enough for me, even if it was rather strange to grapple with the fact that I didn’t entirely detest him.

After a few more minutes of walking we finally arrived at the smith, and when we stepped inside I could smell the fresh forged steel, not to mention the sweat of hard working men. The man in charge—or so it seemed—noticed us rather swiftly and came over to greet us. I was quick to let go of Lord Tywin’s arm.

“How may I help you today, Lord Hand?” he asked, wiping his hands with a cloth. It seemed Lord Tywin must’ve been here at least once or twice before. Either way, he merely reached into his pocket and handed the smith a small, sealed parchment. When the man finished reading it, he motioned for us to follow.

We were led through a small door, and from there down a large set of stairs. Our destination was an expansive basement, and I could instantly feel the heat coming from a gigantic fireplace in the middle of the room. There, we found two men working on a rather detailed helmet. When they heard us enter, they turned around and bowed their heads out of respect.

“My lord, good morning. Thank you for calling upon me. You wished for me to rework a sword, correct?” the bald one confirmed, coming up to us and adjusting the apron around his neck.

I could hear the distinct accent in his voice, and I wondered which part of Essos he was from. I assumed that he was the smith Lord Tywin had sent for, and that the young man with him was either a son or an apprentice—or perhaps both.

“Yes, that’s correct. However, it is the lady’s sword, not mine. You ought to speak to her about it,” Lord Tywin said, motioning to me and removing my blade from his belt. He handed it to the smith, who took it and examined it quite carefully. The man looked at me and nodded, motioning to follow.

“I did not realize the blade would be quite this large. Would you like me to forge it into two, my lady?” He asked, placing it sideways upon a narrow stone block. The apprentice came over and held it properly while the smith reached for a hammer.

“I was hoping for a sword and two daggers. If it leaves the sword still a bit relatively large, that’s fine. I could use the advantage,” I told him, watching as he slammed down on the current handle and slid it off once it came loose. I suddenly recalled doing the same thing to a man’s sword during the Greyjoy Rebellion, though he had been far less excited about it.

“A sword and two daggers? Are these…” the man trailed off, moving away from my blade and looking around. He picked up three handles—one big and two small—and held them up for me to see. “Are these for you then? One of the men upstairs gave them to me and said they were for a distinguished customer.”

“Yes, those would be for her. The same man made her armor, they’re meant to match,” Lord Tywin answered, coming up beside me with his hands clasped behind his back. I hadn’t even realized he’d proactively had the handles made, I’d only briefly mentioned wanting to make daggers out of it that once.

Though, I was grateful for it, as they were just as absolutely breathtaking as my armor. All three of them were ornamented with golden vines, full of thorns, roses, and nightshade. And of course, they were not missing the gorgeous jewels that had been added to my helm.

“Of course. Very well, a sword and two daggers,” the smith nodded in confirmation, motioning for the boy he was working with to bring the blade over. Lord Tywin and I watched attentively as the two of them placed it down onto a unique table, fire soon enveloping the stone and beginning to melt the steel.

I found myself possessed as I began drifting closer toward it, utterly mesmerized by the sight, but the Hand of the King gripped my wrist. When I turned to look at him, he gave me a knowing look. I only took a step back, sighing out as I observed the steel becoming a sort of molton looking thing.

“Stay put for a moment, hm? I want to go look at some of the other weapons they have displayed. The king will be in need of a wedding present,” Lord Tywin muttered, to which I only rolled my eyes and nodded. Of course, the second that he went over to the wall to admire the smith’s other work, I moved closer to the table and began asking questions.

“Can you add details to the metal?” I questioned, folding my hands together and looking at the man with eager curiosity. It was Valyrian steel, so I was not sure what could and could not be done to it, but I figured I ought to ask anyway. The worst reply would only be no.

“Yes, but it would have to be small. Did you have something in mind, my lady?” he answered, snapping at the other boy to go and check on Lord Tywin. I smiled, nodding and looking down at the fully melted blade.

“There is a design on my handle, a small berry with star shaped leaves. Could you add that at the base of the blade?” I requested, to which he instantly said ‘of course’. I turned my head at the sound of Lord Tywin’s voice, though I relaxed when I realized he was only speaking to the apprentice. A sudden idea came to mind.

“How fine can you make the details?”

“As fine as you would like them. What do you desire?”

“It is an odd request, and I know that you’re accustomed to weaponry, but do you think you could take some of the steel and turn it into a ring?”

“I certainly could.”

“Then please do. I would like to make the ring for the Lord Hand. Do you think you could put the head of a lion at the front, and then a pattern of small roses around the entire thing, just through the middle?” I whispered, hoping it wasn’t too specific a request and simultaneously hoping that Lord Tywin was busy contemplating Joffrey’s wedding present. The smith smiled and nodded.

“Of course, my lady. I will keep some of the metal and forge it later so he does not notice it.”

“Thank you so much. I will pay you extra for it.”

Realizing that Lord Tywin was coming back over, I only smiled and stepped away, though not without meeting his scrutinizing gaze. I wasn’t entirely sure why he’d expected me to stay put in the first place; I was not fond of listening to people, and especially not him.

“You’re quite the burden, Lady (Y/N),” he chided me after a moment, watching the two men now pour the metal into a separate jar and take it to another table. They had already set out the molds for my sword and daggers.

“Oh, and you’re not?” I remarked, raising an eyebrow at him. He did not look at me, but there was a slight amusement on his face. I only shook my head, deciding to focus on the molten metal as they poured it into the molds.

It was practically flaming, with red and orange embers sizzling off due to the sheer temperature. I’d never seen a more beautiful sight, and my mouth fell open involuntarily. That steel was to be mine; I could hardly comprehend it.

Once it began to harden, I saw the smith forming the design I’d requested at the base of it, much to my satisfaction. Lord Tywin placed a hand on my upper back, and when I turned my head to look up at him, he gave a subtle smile.

“Are you going to name the daggers too?” he questioned after a moment, watching as they subjected the metal to a rather interesting cooling process. Gods, Valyrian steel was gorgeous.

“I ought to,” I agreed, trying to think of what I could possibly call them. The names should fit together, for they would be matching daggers besides the slight variation in jewels. That was how I could tell them apart, though. “Perhaps- Perhaps I’ll call them Thorn and Claw. Even if it is rather unoriginal, at least my brother will feel his suggestion has been honored.”

“After you spent so much time criticizing the name Ice.” Lord Tywin shook his head at me, and I smacked his arm with the back of my hand, laughing at his lecturing. What did he expect? Flowers only have so many sharp components, after all. I supposed it did make me a bit hypocritical, but I could live with that.

“If you’re going to be mean about it, I’m more than happy to change Claw to something else,” I shot back, having chosen the name as a small reference to him, or House Lannister at any rate. Plus, it did sound rather intimidating.

“I’m not being mean, Lady (Y/N).”

“Ahuh.”

I’d been so busy bickering with Lord Tywin, that by the time we’d ended our small discussion the smith and his apprentice were approaching us with the freshly forged blades, already attached to their handles. When they handed the sword to me, my mouth fell open once again.

It was breathtaking, and I was instantly approaching the fire so that I might see it better. The thing practically had my name written all over it, and I was utterly ecstatic. Side Splitter was the best thing I’d ever had the privilege of owning, and I was quite certain that among all the ancestral Valyrian steel in Westeros, this was the most beautiful of them all.

When Lord Tywin came up to me and presented the daggers, I felt even happier. I took one in my hand and found that the weight of it was utterly perfect, just as my sword was. Tears had begun to fill my eyes, and I was smiling when they rolled onto my cheeks. The Lord Hand wiped them away.

“Are you satisfied with them?” he questioned softly, also admiring the blade in my hands. I instantly nodded, sniffling and sighing out with content.

“More than. They’re beautiful, Tywin. Utterly beautiful,” I whispered, so preoccupied with them that I hadn’t even noticed myself using his first name alone. He shifted beside me, but did not remark about it.

“I’m glad that you’re happy with them.” He turned around then, approaching the smith again and reaching into his pocket. When he removed his hand, I saw a decent sized pouch of gold and realized that he intended to pay for it himself.

“Lord Tywin- my lord, that’s quite alright, I can cover the cost,” I attempted to interrupt, placing my sword down on another table and then rushing over to them. The Great Lion only shook his head.

“I will cover it. I have the gold on hand,” he noted, then thanking the smith and receiving a small bag and wrap to safely keep the daggers in. I sighed, shaking my head and going back to get the sword. Lord Tywin followed knowingly and sheathed it when I handed it to him.

“We will discuss this outside, Lord Tywin,” I muttered, to which he only grumbled in response. We both gave the smith and his apprentice another genuine ‘thank you’ before leaving, and I subtly confirmed that I would pay them more for the ring later on. From there, we went back upstairs and then out of the establishment.

“I’ll pay you back whatever sum you gave the man, and you’re not going to argue with me about it,” I said once we were on the street. Lord Tywin did not even bother to meet my eyes.

“There is no need.”

“It is my sword, I ought to repay the debt-”

“It’s not a debt, Lady (Y/N), it is a gift.”

That was all he said before offering me his arm. My previously annoyed glance dissipated, and my face softened as I took it. The small fluttering in my stomach was a strange sensation, and I found myself wondering if perhaps I had not eaten enough at breakfast. It was of no importance, I was certain that grandmother would have lemon cakes and cheese ready in the gardens.

What was of importance, however, was the fact that I had just cemented this sword as part of my legacy. It would be passed on through the generations, but it would never lose the distinct design of nightshade. It would never lose me. Because family lines die out, and ink fades away, but Valyrian steel never rusts.

—————

“Let her in!”

I was standing outside the Hand’s chambers, and after being announced, that was the prompt response I’d heard through the thick double doors. The Lannister guards reached to open it, and I stepped inside the office with a small box behind my back. Lord Tywin only looked up at me from his desk once the door was closed.

“Close your eyes, Lord Tywin,” I said, making my way into the room and closer to him. He gave me a rather annoyed look, for I was sure he did not appreciate being interrupted in the middle of his work. I couldn’t have cared less.

“Why?”

“Just trust me,” I told him, smiling as he sighed and leaned back in his chair, eyes now shut. I made my way past the rather long table and over to his actual office space, observing the room as I did, for I hadn’t really spent any time in the Tower of the Hand before.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as I placed the small box on his desk, and I watched his eyebrow raise at the sound of it even though his eyelids were shut. It was very amusing to see him like this.

“May I open them now?” he asked after a moment, to which I nodded. Of course, I then remembered he couldn’t see me and gave the verbal ‘go ahead’.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times and then realizing there was now a box on his desk. He reached for it carefully, as if asking for permission, and I motioned for him to open it.

Gently, Lord Tywin took it in his hands and pulled the lid off. Inside, he found the Valyrian steel ring—just as I had instructed it be made—surrounded by cotton to keep it safe. Not that Valyrian steel needed to be kept safe, but still, it prevented it from rolling around.

I watched his mouth fall open, a true and genuine shock overcoming him. It surprised me, for Tywin Lannister did not gape. It filled me with quite a lot of joy to know I had made him do so.

“(Y/N)…”

That was the only thing he could mutter, and it made my cheeks heat. Lord Tywin had never only used my first name. I wished more than anything to know what thoughts were running through his head.

“Try it on. It should fit, but just to make sure,” I prompted, smiling as he lifted it from the box and slid it onto his fourth finger. He had placed it onto his left hand, for his right already had a poison ring on his middle finger, and I assumed he did not want the weight to be uncomfortable. But most importantly, the Valyrian steel ring fit perfectly on his hand, and he couldn’t stop staring at it.

For a moment I wondered if I’d sent Lord Tywin into shock, because he hadn’t said anything other than my name, but he suddenly inhaled and stood from his chair. He took my hands in his, his eyes desperately searching mine.

“You stupid, stupid girl. Why would you bother making me a ring out of Valyrian steel?” He asked, raising one hand to my cheek. My lips parted, and I found myself stuttering as I spoke. There was that odd fluttering again.

“I- I wanted you to have it, Lord Tywin. I had excess steel, and it’ll serve as a good reminder of our… our alliance. Our friendship,” I replied, swallowing. His eyes stared deep into mine, and I saw something change on his face. His hand dropped from my face, and he nodded as he once again admired the ring.

“Thank you, Lady (Y/N). Thank you very much.”

At that moment, I had no clue that whenever he was stressed, upset, or angry, Lord Tywin would end up rubbing his thumb on that ring to soothe himself. I had no idea he would end up grazing the lion's head against his lips when contemplating. But, most importantly, I had no clue that when he was lying awake tonight, the ring I’d given him would make him settle on a rather harsh decision. One that would make both of us realize something that we had initially believed to be utterly unthinkable.

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