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#Mummy dearest
evilgoldphish · 26 days
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Criminal Minds Point Key
My mummy dearest and I are big fans of criminal minds. Today we decided to rewatch the show and use our beautiful autistic nerd powers to create a somewhat logical point system to determine what are actually the best and worst episodes. 
Every episode starts with 100 points and either gains or loses points according to the following point key:
Jack appears physically in person. (+10)
Jack is heard or shown not in person. (+5)
Henry appears physically in person. (+9)
Henry is heard or shown not in person. (+4)
Victim actually does something smart or plays the long game. (+15)
Hotch/Morgan/Rossi isn't an asshole at all during the episode while being in it. (+20)
Reid’s interesting fun facts. (+5)
Awwwwwwwww that's so sweeeet (+5)
Okay, that actually made me laugh. (+5)
Hotch shows emotion. (+10)
Oooh they smexy. (+5)
Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. (+2) 
Actually wholesome. (+2)
*Jazz hands* (+10)
Someone picks up evidence using a glove without even wearing the damn glove in the first place. (-20)
There is a very obvious and easy way to do something that helps with the case but no one even mentions it. (-20)
“Why did you shoot him??? What was the point of that???” (-10)
“How in god's name are they still alive??? Are you immortal???” (-5)
Someone in the team going completely rogue. (-5)
Ruining an entire relationship with a single line of dialog. (-15)
✨Sexism✨ (-10)
✨Racism✨ (-10)
✨Homophobia✨ (-10)
That. Isnt. Possible. (-10)
A cognitive interview turning into blatant hypnosis. (-10)
Someone being immune from legal consequences. (-15)
Being insensitive to victims and/or survivors. (-15)
I understand… but still, WHERE IS YOUR WARRANT (-5)
Someone says something blatantly obvious. (-2)
This doesn't concern you! (-2)
What is that outfit??? (-1)
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polish-lolita · 26 days
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it should be illegal for my mother to talk to me
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moviesandmania · 8 days
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MUMMY DEAREST Reviews of mystery horror - free on Prime, Roku, Tubi and YouTube
Mummy Dearest is a 2021 mystery horror film about a mother recently confined to a wheelchair who moves into her daughter’s home. Unfortunately, suggestions that the house is haunted and strange behaviour by her daughter’s boyfriend send her on a journey into madness. Directed and co-produced by White Cross from a screenplay written by co-producer Jared Vineyard. The Cranial Sacral Productions…
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anne-chloe · 5 months
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currently helping mum decorate the Christmas cakes, never been trusted with the marzipan before, trying so hard not to mess it up
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nzmistressv · 8 months
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I've really been embracing my Mummy/Mommy Domme of late. Having an adult son myself who has left home for university, this role comes naturally to me. I am an empty nester, my own baby boy has moved out and I am genuinely loving helping my new baby boys find their way in this world 🥰 #olderwoman (but actually still in my 30s 💋) Being a young mum paid off 😉
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dapurinthos · 8 months
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[image description: a quartet of images from star wars: the clone wars and ahsoka.
1) gif of star wars: the clone wars season 3, episode 15: overlords. ahsoka points something out in the distance to obi-wan and anakin, saying 'hey, i saw something! a reflection, up on the hill.' they are on mortis, and she is referring to a beacon located atop the monastery of mortis, where the father resides.
2) screenshot from the ahsoka series of episode 8: the jedi, the witch, and the warlord, showing a statue of the father from the mortis arc, located on peridea.
3) screenshot from the same episode. baylan skoll looks out over a mountain vista, a beacon atop one peak.
4) the same screenshot, contrast increased, zoomed in on the peak with the beacon.
/end description]
dave filoni, i am staring at you so hard right now. i am rotating this in my mind along with obi-wan's line of 'i can't even lock down where in the galaxy we are, or if we are even in our own galaxy.'
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horrororman · 7 months
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More #horror films that were released on October 18th...
The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb 1964(UK).
The Gorgon 1964(UK).
The Velvet Vampire 1971(NYC, NY).
Dolly Dearest 1991.
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everythingroyalty · 1 year
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one of these days we really should discuss the absurdity of this family’s continued infantilisation of a 19-year-old woman
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okay but guys why are we completely sleeping on the pure angst potential of the complexities of Katherine and the Pulitzer family???
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I am fully in favor of the ongoing Cecilsweep and have a deep and longstanding fondness for WTNV, but I will admit that I voted for Sans on the sexyman poll simply because the last time he won the Queen of England died and that’s the kind of energy I want to bring into the world again
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longdaytogo · 7 months
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dearest mummy
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woso-soso · 2 months
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Mummy Dearest
Summary: Your emotions finally boil over while Leah is away.
Word Count: 1,962
I would love to talk to you all so please shoot a message my way letting me know what you think!
I have not proofread yet, please let me know of any major mistakes but I will go back tomorrow and fix anything then!
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You hadn’t expected to be in this position, backed into the corner of your kitchen. Your head hung low as you tried to block out the crying that echoed in the house. You loved the little girl that was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her face, the toys she had been playing with grasped tightly in her hands. 
Today had been the last of five days home alone without Leah. Leah who could cuddle and entertain your daughter Posie like no tomorrow. Leah who had been able to convince you having a baby was the right thing, she was out on injury at the time when you started the process. With a world of luck you’d gotten pregnant almost right away, but the pregnancy wasn’t easy. You had had hyperemesis gravidarum throughout your whole pregnancy, leaving you exhausted and wanting nothing more than for it to end. But, finally when it did you felt nothing towards Posie. There had been no rush of love, no overwhelming urge to care for her. Something Leah had instantly felt, and you knew she could see you didn’t. The look of disappointment that would cross her face every time the nurses tried to help you feed Posie with no success, everytime you never quite looked into her blue eyes, the eyes that matched Leah’s. 
That had been nine months ago, and now while yes you love your daughter and you care for her you still don’t have the connection she has with Leah. Leah, the woman the small baby is crying for. Her shouts for Mama ringing in your head as you do everything you can to not blow up on the small innocent child in front of you. 
Your small innocent child. 
The first few days Leah had been gone, away with Arsenal at winter training; had gone okay. Posie was content with FaceTime calls and cuddling with Mummy, but as the days went on she began to push away from you. Clinging more and more to the FaceTime calls you were able to do. But today was different, there had been no morning FaceTime call as Leah was set to return home. But that had pushed Posie over the edge. She had been inconsolable as you tried to get her to eat her breakfast, and refused to be held. This led you to let her crawl on the floor, wanting nothing more than for her to stop screaming. And it had worked for a while, she had sat content on the kitchen floor playing with the toys you had brought in for her while you worked at the dining table. Always being sure to keep her in your line of sight. But then noon came and went, the normal lunch time FaceTime hadn’t happened and Posie was running on no food and very little sleep.
When the first waves of tears came you did everything you could to help, instantly going to try and cuddle her but you had been instantly met with her small hands hitting at your arms and chest. Her want to be held, being reserved for Leah. Sure it hurt to know your own baby wasn’t wanting you but all you could do at that point was try and help her through it. Eventually her tiny hands stopped as she sagged into you, still not taking food but was at least calm and quiet. Well, she had been until your phone rang, her face perking up at the thought  of her Mama being on the other end. So when you had to decline the call from your brother you knew it would set her off again. A fresh batch of tears and hitting started as soon as the call went to voicemail. Eventually all you could think to do was to set her back down, trying to hand her any toy you could find hoping one of them would calm her enough to stop crying. But nothing worked, her screams kept getting louder as tears formed in your eyes. You cover your ears as you tuck yourself into the corner, turning away from the red tear stained face of your daughter.
You had been trying so hard the past few months to bond with Posie but the feelings just aren't the same as what Leah and Posie have, and Leah had been hesitant to leave the two of you alone together for longer than a day or two. Something that tore at your heart even though you would never tell her that. But now, with the way you're crying and your baby is screaming out for her other mother, you're starting to think her worries had been fair. 
All it took was one more extremely high pitched scream for you to turn towards Posie, tears streaming down your face. “I KNOW I’M NOT MAMA,” the dead silence that followed doing nothing to calm your nerves as your bright blue eyed baby stares back at you, her own tears still flowing down her face. The click of the front door shutting is the thing that snaps you back to reality. The sound of Leah's bag hitting the floor, her sneak clad feet padding against the floor as she rushes towards the screaming. 
“What in god's name is going on?” Her question is left unanswered as she stares between the two of you. You're sure you look like a wreck, hair thrown up in a haphazard bun, tear stained sweatshirt, your face puffy and red from crying. 
“MAMA,” Leah tears her eyes away from you at the sound of Posie’s scream. Instantly bending down to collect her in her arms. The baby instantly calms as Leah starts to sway her back and forward, wiping at her face to attempt and dry some of her tears. 
You sink into yourself as you watch the two, you know you aren’t Posies main person but you hadn’t ever thought it would be this bad. You had been trying really trying, and the bond just wasn’t there. Knowing now that this will just confirm to Leah that you can’t be left alone with your daughter. The daughter that clearly doesn’t want to be left alone with you, a fresh wave of tears start forming in your eyes as you stare at the floor. The soft whispers of Leah talking to Posie being the only sound in the now very quiet flat. 
“Y/N,” Leah says, breaking you from the trance you had been in. “What happened?” 
“I don’t know Leah,” You choke out, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. 
“Well,” She starts shifting Posie to a more comfortable position. “You must have some kind of idea, she doesn’t get like this for no reason.” 
“But she did,” You protest. “She had been until today, we were fine. I thought maybe we were finally bonding some, then the FaceTime call didn’t come and she refused to eat or be held by me. All she wants is you, I can’t change that.” The tightness in your chest grows as you try and defend yourself against a fight that hasn’t even happened. “She loves you more Leah, that's all that happened, I failed as her mother and she only wants you.” You don’t even give the blond a chance to respond before pushing yourself away from the counter, rushing past her towards your bedroom needing the peace and comfort of your own bed. 
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You don’t know how long you had been alone in your room, you could hear Leah moving around in the flat most likely getting Posie something to eat. Your tears had stopped a while ago, but the empty feeling that now settled into your chest was a new kind of pain you haven't experienced before. 
“Y/N,” Leah whispers as the door creaks open. “Y/N I know you’re awake, can we talk please.” 
You had planned to stay quiet, the excitement you had once had at the idea of Leah being home was now gone. 
“MumMum,” the shortened nickname for you breaking you slightly. Posie hadn’t so much as mumbled your nickname in weeks, normally going for Mama any chance she could. “MumMum.” 
“I know baby Mummy is having a hard time,” Leah whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “Do you want to give Mummy a cuddle?” Before you have a chance to deny them Leah has already climbed into the bed behind you, setting Posie down in between the two of you. Posies small hands grasping onto your arm as she pulls herself up. Her eyes locked onto your unmoving form. 
“MumMum,” she gurgles out. 
“Leah,” You breath out. “Please.” 
“Y/N, we need to talk, and Posie needs a cuddle from her Mummy.” Leah's words don’t do much to move you. To you they feel like no more than a performance. Why would Posie want you with Leah right there?
“No she doesn’t,” is all you mutter out. Rolling over slightly to look at Leah, her tight lipped smile not quite reaching her eyes. Posie taking this moment with your guard down to clamber onto your stomach, laying her head on your chest. The moment felt sweet and it would have been had you not been feeling so crap about your parenting skills. 
“I beg to differ.” Leah says brushing hairs away from your face. “Now, what's going through your head?”
“I just,” you sigh, running your hand up and down Posies back. “I thought that this week was going fine, but as soon as she couldn’t see you she flipped a switch. It felt like all the progress we had made wasn’t actually progress; it was her tolerating me in between seeing you. I know I’ve struggled to connect with her. I know I haven't been the best Mum but I’m trying and to have her reject me all morning simply cause she hadn’t seen you cemented that I’m nothing more then the Mum there when her Mama isn’t. I know you were worried about me being alone with her for so long and for you to walk into that….” You drift off, not quite sure how to finish what you were thinking. 
“Y/N,” Leah sighs. “Do you think I don’t trust you with her?” 
“I mean Leah, when you walk in to me screaming at her and her in tears, the fact that you expressed worry about being gone, the fact that if you have to go away for more than a few days she usually goes with you and your mom. I know you say it's so I don’t have to worry about her while working but I know it's because you don’t trust me alone with her.” Your tone is expressionless as you stare at her, the fight in you gone. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way. I trust you with Posie, I’m sorry it had to come to this for you to be able to tell me.” Leah's tone is soft as she places her hand on top of yours. 
“It’s fine,” you sigh, laying your head back against your pillow. “I think I need to talk to someone though, I’m worried I’m the issue between me and Posie.” 
“You can talk to someone, we can find you someone my love.” Leah whispers as she lays down next to you, cuddling into your side. Her head resting on your shoulder as the room slowly grows dark. Posies soft snores being the only noise you can hear as she sleeps against your chest. Leah quickly drifts to sleep, her own snores joining Posies. 
You however stay wide awake, your thoughts racing a mile a minute in your mind. Peace being something you haven't felt in a long time.l
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rebdekarios · 2 months
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Gale headcanon Part 2: Wedding Day
Part 1 Here
Galemancers, y’all really liked my first post with all of Gale’s (very likely to be real) wedding planning/day of antics.
I do think this would make for a fun fic and I wanna write it, but yours truly is not in a position to start any new projects at the time being (not saying it will never happen, just right now isn’t a good time!). However, I still wanna add more to this goofy idea of mine.
Here goes!
Wyll giving them lessons for their first dance as a married couple. It’s as hilarious as it is painful to watch. Gale has two left feet and keeps stepping on Tav’s toes. Tav cries out in pain and Gale feels awful so he conjures a rose to apologize.
G: “The Soirées in Waterdeep don’t move with such grand gestures and arduous foot work!” W: “That’s why you asked me to help you, Gale. Baldurs Gate throws magnificent parties.”
Gale keeps reading and rereading spell based cookbooks to try and whip up the reception meal in one fell swoop. He doesn’t trust a caterer and wouldn’t like the taste of anyone’s food but his own.
Tav keeps begging him to let someone else do the work since he’s stressing himself out with these small details, but all Gale does is smile and give Tav a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek.
G: “Don’t worry about me, my love. Our day will be perfect, just like you are.” T: “I don’t want it to be perfect, I just want you to relax and have fun.”
Tav goes to a separate room to sleep the night before and finds their bed adorned with flowers and petals in heart shapes
Tav finds a note beneath all the bed decorations
“My dearest love, I write this with nervous hands and a fast-beating heart - we are almost upon our wedding day. What seems like a grand milestone is only just the beginning of an even more remarkable adventure. Our days of journeying through Faerûn may be over, but it only prepared me for the most important journey of them all: being your husband. You are everything, Tav. You have made me a better man. My connection with you is as innate as mine with magic itself. From this day forward, I will devote the rest of my life to your happiness. The beginning of that chapter is upon us both, and I am nearly bursting (despite my lack of an orb to make it so) in anticipation for it to begin. With utmost love, your soon to be husband - Gale.
Tav won’t be able to sleep so instead they read this letter over and over again 🥰
Gale lets Tav wear whatever they want on their big day and even paid for it
He just wants his bb to be at their happiest and this is the least he can do
Tav ofc hires Figaro the dressmaker and Zara the mummy to do makeup
Gale turning around and seeing his spouse for the first time the day of 🥺
He’s literally unable to breathe when he sees them walking down the aisle, however he is partly relieved because he was still anxious about Tav getting cold feet
Gale tears up as he reads his vows 🥺
Their wedding rings bearing the same gem that Tara has on her collar
Scratch is summoned 🥺 and becomes a permanent member of the Dekarios household, and even gets his own gem at the ceremony 😭
Owlbear gets the distinct honor of being ringbearer. He takes it very seriously. Because he knows he will get a snack for it later.
“Withers I would like to recruit a hireling” says Gale *puts an apron on the hirelings to have them clean up after the guests*
Halsin whittles them a pair of swans with their necks in a heart shape as their wedding gift. It becomes Tav’s most treasured knick knack in the tower.
Lae’zel gifts them a pair of swords, which is probably customary for her but not so much for couples in Faerûn (Gale fashions a coat of arms above the hearth with them anyway)
Astarion: “I am the gift.” 🙄
Tara finally begins to warm up to Tav when she fully realizes that Tav makes a great addition to the Dekarios family
Tara shows this by flying into Tavs lap and rubbing her face against Tav
Lasts for only about 30 seconds however. She can’t be seen letting her guard down to anyone.
The night ends, Gale and Tav retreat back to the tower with full hearts and a gleam in their eyes, proud of all they’d done to build their lives and excited for what comes next.
But there’s still going to be copious amounts of sex that night of course. They barely get past the threshold of the doorway before they’re ripping each other’s clothes off.
They’re drunk, but not just because they’ve had a few drinks. Love drunk, adrenaline drunk, life drunk.
“They deserve this night, after all they’ve been through,” Karlach says to Wyll as they are walking back to the portal to Avernus.
“Some day that will be us,” Wyll replies proudly.
💜
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rexlroze · 2 months
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𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.
𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛
Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2
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Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.
“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.
Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.
The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.
“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.
“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”
“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”
“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.
“Yes?”
“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”
“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.
With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.
You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.
You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.
You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.
I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes. 
Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.
You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.
You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.
You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.
You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.
“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.
You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.
Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.
Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.
You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.
Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.
The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.
“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.
You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in. 
Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.
You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.
Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.
When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.
You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.
As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.
“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”
You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”
Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.
You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.
Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.
You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.
After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.
You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.
In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.
Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day. 
A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.
Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.
Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…
Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.
Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.
You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.
It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.
Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.
The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.
Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.
Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.
You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.
You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.
“You alrigh’, love?”
It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you. 
You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…
“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.
What the fuck just happened?
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.
You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.
You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.
As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.
Right!
The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.
You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.
Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.
“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”
You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.
“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.
After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.
You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.
You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.
After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.
Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.
Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.
Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.
You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.
After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.
“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”
“That would be me.”
“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.
You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.
He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”
He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.
You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.
When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”
“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.
“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?
“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.
“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”
“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.
“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.
“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.
“Oh, one of my friends told me.”
You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”
“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?
“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.
"You know her?"
Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.
“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.
“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.
“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”
“What?”
“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.
“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.
“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”
“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”
“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
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myladysapphire · 1 year
Text
His Sapphire Princess (I)
After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.
The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?
word count: 2,866
CW: mummy issues, childish teasing, incest
Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)
Masterlist | series masterlist | next part
disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC                     
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                                Visenya
Her mother was once again in labour. Visenya was the eldest of three. With two brothers and two uncles, she often found herself surrounded by boys. Her Aunt Heleana was often her only escape and even then, bugs seemed more interesting to her. She had longed for a baby sister and loved the idea of dressing her up like a doll and teaching her everything she knew. She often felt lonely,  her brothers were often off with their eldest Uncle Aegon, trying their hardest to impress him. She missed the days when they longed for her satisfaction or happiness over any task, she asked them to do. And now they focused their attention on tormenting her other Uncle Aemond.
Aemond was her dearest friend, having both had eggs that didn't hatch in the cradle they found a way to bond through that. And later their love for the histories of old Valyria and learning High Valyrian.
One was never without the other, that was until she finally claimed her dragon.
When she was six, she went to Dragonstone for the first time. There she made it her mission to claim a dragon. She did not mind which, but she was determined to do so. Having given up much sooner than Aemond on her egg ever hatching, she concluded that she would claim a dragon, and if Aemond wished, she would happily share a dragon with him.
It was no easy feat, she snuck off in the dead of night and rode on horseback (a horse double her size, barely hanging on for dear life) to the dragon mount. Nine dragons resided on Dragonstone, her mother's; Syrax, her brothers; Vermax and Arrax, her father's; Seasmoke, the three wild dragons; Sheepstealer, Greyghost and the cannibal (though she would never think of attempting to claim them), and then there was Vermithor and Silverwing. She believed her best bets were lied with one of them, wild dragons being far too risky for a mere child. There were also several hatchlings and young dragons, but she wanted a grown one. A dragon to strike fear and build her respect.
She was a princess and the heir to the iron throne, after her mother. And riding a dragon fit for a king or a queen is a sure-fire way to build her some support, if not fear to stop any usurpation.
So, when she came face to face with Vermithor, she knew he would be hers.
She sang him a Valyrian lullaby, A song her mother often sang to one of her brothers. She almost giggled at the motion, the bronze fury, wooed by a lullaby. But she had heard stories of dragons being lulled into submission by a song, she hoped it would attract his attention, and lure him out.
It did.
Though she did not anticipate him letting a monstrous roar into her face, a fire built in his throat.
"Umbagon, gīda"
Wait, calm.
He stopped, his head lowered, sniffing her. She refused to show her fear, refused to cry. "Dohaerās" she stuttered.
Serve
His head lowered further, edging closer to her face. He sniffed her, letting out a grumble. "Dohaerās" she let out again, this time her voice firm.
His body lowered; his face approached hers. She reached her hand out to stroke him, rubbing at his nose.
"kessa ao ivestragī nyke kipagon ao?" she questioned, hand still stroking him.
will you let me ride you?
His eyes homed in on her, taking in her every movement. Assessing her.
He moved his head forward gently, softly nuzzling her, or at least as much as a dragon could. She took that as a yes and moved forward slowly. Her hand not leaving him. whether to reassure her or him, she did not know. She stoked along his side gently. Moving forward to the ladder to his saddle.
"ok" she muttered to herself, reaching forward to grab the ladder "don't fall, don't fall" she moved up slowly, holding her breath. Making it onto the saddle, he let out a slight shake. Not enough to throw her off, but enough to hurry up. It seemed as if Vermithor was eager to let his new mount fly him.
She sat down slowly, grabbing the reins, "sōvegon".
fly
His ascension was fast, somewhat graceful. Unlike her mother's dragon, he did not glide into the air, sweet and graceful. No Vermithor flew. He flapped his wings to their full length, showing off his size and power. Vermithor wanted to dominate the sky and show his power. He was loud, roaring as if to announce his presence. At first, she thought it was to strike fear and warn other dragons off, but by the quick company of Silverwing, she knew it was a call.
The mated dragons roared upon each other's presence. And then they began to sing. They moved around each other, their voices echoing their movements.
They flew and moved around each other.
She realised then that with one came the other. Much like she and Aemond, perhaps he could claim Silverwing. And they could be like their first riders, she hoped.
She wasn't sure how long they flew, by the time she had even claimed Vermithor the sun had begun to rise, and her parents must be starting to worry. But she could not find it in her to care. They landed outside the entrances to the castle and were quickly greeted by her parents.
"Muña, Kepa" she shouted in greeting. "I claimed him, Muña" she let out excitedly.
"I saw, my love." Her mother spoke, her tone wavering between stern and happy. She knew her mother could not stay mad at her for long, especially with how happy she was.
Her father let out a laugh, "We saw, sweetheart, but you can't keep sneaking out" he tried to say sternly, though his pride shone through his eyes.
"I know, it won't happen again" she muttered, lying.
"hmm" her mother spoke, clearly not believing it "you know, when you lie you look at your feet"
"sorry" she squeaked out, before seeing Jace, her younger brother (by ten moons) run out.
"Senya!" he shouted.
"Did you see? Did you see?" she asked excitedly, as Jace ran up to her and hugged her.
"Yes! Can you take me riding?" he questioned excitedly, Vermax being only four was nowhere near large enough to ride.
"of course," she spoke quickly wrapping her arms around him and spinning in a circle.
Her mother cleared her throat "not until you are older" she spoke " and you missy, will have to hold off on the riding until the dragon masters deem you ready".
Shouts of discontent rang between the two children, "but you claimed Syrax was around my age, and you were allowed to ride her!"
"Yes, but Syrax was much smaller, and Vermithor is much bigger" her mother spoke, pride in her tone when speaking of her dragon.
Visenya only hoped for a bond like her mother and her dragon had.
Ever since claiming her dragon Aemond had tried to distance himself from her. His jealousy strong and their relationship. But she refused to put up with Aemonds actions. Dragging him along with her to meet Vermithor, trying to get Silverwing to bond with him. She did not, but the notion alone made all jealousy he felt disappear. She continued in her efforts to find him a dragon to claim, and whenever he wanted, she would take him out on Vermithor.
If the people of KingsLanding thought, they were close before, then this was a whole new thing.
Alicent, her grandmother, had always liked her. Found her sweet and adored how she cared for Aemond.
Everyone in KingsLanding enjoyed the young princess.
They did not however like her brothers.
At first, she didn't understand, still believing that Ser Laenor was their father. That was until she met Ser Harwin strong. Seeing the way her mother looked at him, the way he looked towards Jace and Luke. The way he had taken her under his wing also and treated her as if she were his own. She knew he was her brother's father, not hers. But neither was Laenor. But she still loved him like he was and treated him as if he was. She was his favourite (another reason for the court to believe she was his) and she was always by his side, and always felt such sorrow when he went off to battle in the steppestones.
She did feel some envy of her brothers, though Ser Harwin loved her as much as he did her brothers, even sneaking off to teach her how to defend herself and swordplay, she could not shake the feeling of jealousy.
Her mother, as much as she loved her, always had a look of resentment when she saw her. She assumed it was because she looked like her father. A man she had no idea who he was a man she could only assume her mother loved. Her mother favoured her brothers, she knew it, lived with it, and resented it. All because she looked like a man whom she had never met. Though being named her mother's heir did quench some of the envy she felt, it still wasn't enough.
Her mother may always be there for her, that was no lie. But unlike with her brothers, there was a hesitance to it.
That was another reason why she wanted a sister, perhaps a sister would understand why she felt the way she did and be treated the same as she was.
But she understood she wouldn't be, no her siblings would all come from a man who loved her mother, and her mother loved back. A man who stuck around.
So, when she overheard, she had a brother, no surprise was seen on her face as she understood nothing would change. That she would be fourth on her mother's list of priorities.
Loved just as much as her brothers, but a hesitance to it.
"Muña" she called, walking down the hallway, towards her mother's chambers.
She had promised her mother she would be there for the birth, wanting to act as support and learn one day what would be a part of her own life (a fact her mother never let her forget).
She ran up to her, quick to greet her new baby brother, her brothers will be very pleased. Her father quickly appeared from another entrance, causing her to run straight into him "ugh, Kepa! Watch where you are going" she groaned, rubbing her nose
He chuckled softly "sorry, little love"
"My, my what happened to you!" her mother exclaimed, "if memory, serves you'd said you'd be her for the birth of the babe?"
She offered a sheepish smile, "Sorry mother, Vermithor wanted to go flying, ask him yourself" nodding her head, it was true to some degree, she wanted to go flying and Vermithor was more than eager to comply.
Her mother hummed in response.
"A boy! I've just heard" her father finally spoke, happily.
"Yes," mother said through pained breaths.
"Can I name him, this time mama?" she said begged. She had a very long list of names and was more than prepared to give her brother a fitting name. as much as she loved Jace and Luke, she hated their names.
Her father patted her head and said "it's up to you mother, love" before turning to her "well done, where are you going?"
"She wants to see him." Her mother hissed, walking shakily up the stairs.
She?
Alicent?
She Shook her head, Alicent had four babes of her own, surely she understands how painful birth is. She rolled her eyes. Perhaps she was getting too old. She was a grandmother after all!
"Now? I'm coming with you"
"Me too!"
"I should hope so," her mother remarked, bitterly.
"Can I hold him, Muña?" she asked, seeing her mother struggling.
Her mother looked down at her and nodded, grateful for the small rest it gave her "of course, my sweet girl"
Her father quickly offered her his arm, which was taken gratefully.
She looked down at her brother, he had the same nose as Luke, brown hair and what she could make out brown eyes. A shame. She had hoped for at least one silver-haired sibling. She was starting to feel like the odd one out.
"Was it terribly painful"
Both mother and daughter turned to look at the other and rolled their eyes.
"I took a lance through the shoulder once," he remarked, unaware of his wife and daughter's actions.
"My deepest sympathies" her mother hissed.
She was completely enchanted with her newest brother, despite his plain features, and simply choose to ignore her father and his attempts at comforting her mother, giving the babe forehead kisses, and cooing at how cute he was, but stopped upon realising he was covered in blood let out a disgusted snort. Her mother chuckled thinking it was directed at her father.
The halls were crowded with court members. Awaiting to see the newest prince. some to see if her mother had had another child sired by her father or another bastard.
Stopping for several members of the court to offer their congratulations to her mother before reaching the queen's chambers. She handed over her brother before bidding her parents farewell.
Whatever was about to happen, she had no desire to see.
And spotting Aemond walking through the corridors meant she didn't want to stick around for much longer.
"AEMOND!" she shouted, running up to him "I have another brother!"
He rolled his eyes, an action he tried to keep from her "hmmm" he said, not caring too much. She and he were walking down the corridor heading towards her family chambers.
"Congratulations Visenya! Oh, that's great news Visenya!" she mocked, putting on a deeper voice.
"Ha Ha, very funny" he spoke, unamused. Arms crossed.
"What does it even matter? Aren't they just another bas-"
"Do NOT-" she interrupted him; a stern look on her face. "They are my brothers, and that is all that matters" she spoke, tone hard, tired of Aemond's attitude. "If you're going to speak about this is will take my leave" she stared him down. Not at wanting to leave. Aemond always apologised, he hated it when he received the silent treatment from her and was often quick to apologise to prevent it.
"Sorry, Senya" he looked down. "what's his name?"
"I don't know, I have ideas, but mother probably won't listen to them!" she let out frustrated "it'll probably be some stupid name like Rhacearys or something!"
They had come up to her family chambers now, the door opened as Ser Harwin and her brothers walked in placing a dragon egg in a fire hearth inside.
"Brothers!" she exclaimed, walking in. Aemond stood by the doorway hesitant to enter.
"princess" Harwin greeted with a warm smile.
"Hello Harwin" she replied, hugging him.
"Senya" both her brothers exclaimed, before moving their eyes to Aemond "uncle," they said curtly, before looking at each other and giggling. Oh, they were up to something!
"Perhaps I should go" Aemond mumbled, moving to leave.
"I – but" she stuttered out, sad, he wanted to leave "I'll see you later? In our secret spot" she whispered the last part, winking terribly as she did so.
Aemond went to laugh but stopped after seeing something over her shoulder. Her brothers most likely. "of course," he mumbled.
"WAIT!" she ran up to him, giving him a quick hug. "BYE!"
Not long after his exit her mother and father entered the room, stopping her from confronting her brothers about whatever their plans with Aemond were.
"Mother look, we choose an egg for the baby" Jace spoke, as their mother moved to sit.
"That looks like the perfect one" she agreed, finally sitting in the chair to rest, as the cover on the eggs pot was lifted.
"We let Luke choose" Jace admitted, as Luke grew a proud smile and thanked him.
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragon pit, princess. I thought it best to escort the lads" Harwin spoke up, his eyes drawn to the babe in her father's arms.
"Laenor and I thank you, commander".
"Another boy, I heard. What a fine knight you are going to make, yes?" Harwin spoke towards the babe.
She stood by her father, looking down at the babe. He had been cleaned up since she last saw him. Much less blood.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey"
"Joffrey?" she questioned, looking between her mother and father "my list had much better names!"
"shush, now," her father whispered, patting her head and moving the babe into ser Harwin's arms.
"wasn't that your friend's name?" she questioned, looking at her father.
He gulped and nodded "Oh! Ok, it's fine then. I forgive you!" she exclaimed. Though she still hoped for a chance to rename him to something much better.
"Father, please may I hold Joffrey?" Luke spoke, trying to grab Joffrey out of Harwin's arms.
Their father tutted, moving her brothers and herself away, dismissing them to their dragon pit lessons.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
Text
Old money -John Price
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Based on a request: hii!!! i love your fics sm! i was wondering if you could make one with price meeting and having dinner with the reader’s military-based, old money family?? like nate archibald family house typa shit where they have dinner at her family’s big manor 😭 ---- F!Reader, old money, wealthy!reader, established!relationship, fluff/romance?, boyfriend!Price, ----
A/N: Hope ya like it :)
John Price, a military man who was not afraid of most things, except this, driving to your parent's house, who lived in possibly the biggest home he has ever been in. He knew that your parents would ask all about his past and that he would be investigated since your entire family is in the military. Your father is a general, your mother is the head of inter-pol, siblings in the royal marines and your oldest brother is a SAS soldier and there was you, in the Royal Air Force. 
When Price was introduced to you, he recognised the last name immediately. Everyone always treated you differently and as he parked in the mansion's driveway, he understood why you were treated so differently. "I know, I know that it's not a small or normal home but please just act like yourself." You say that this had become a problem with past partners. He nods, "Don't worry, love." His lips meet your forehead and as he gets out of the car to open your door, he talks to himself. "Impress, John...don't be stupid." He opens your door and takes your hand as you get out of the car. 
Walking in he holds his breath, holding your hand and stiffens a little when he sees your dad. "You must be John Price?" Your dad and he shake hands. "R/N, go get ready for dinner, me and John will have a chat." As you return to your room, your mother and siblings are all grinning. "Mummy, don't start, please let's just act normal for once," your voice under control, trying to not show your excitement John was the first man you brought home who wasn't a part of the many family names your parents wanted you to wed. He was also the first man to want you for you, not the money, the recognition or the status, he loved you for your beauty, wit and charisma. 
For John, you were the first girl in which he found himself reading more books, watching the news and caring more about how he dressed. To him, the way you presented yourself was elegant and your beauty could outshine anyone and there he would be, trying to fit in but never daring to outshine you. Diamonds couldn't be outshone, he would explain. Your father, walking him around the home, showing him family portraits, generations of wealth all in past paintings. The grounds of the home were all well kept by the staff, the same ones that greeted John. 
For the first time, he understood that maybe the movies weren't all so wrong but he did notice a mistake all movies about wealthy families had. That was that no one bragged, your dad, a well-known man talked as if he was mates with John. Pass the formal introductions, your dad wanted to make John feel welcome. No need for titles, just modesty and honesty was all that was needed to be found. John of course felt he had to present himself as some man of high importance, after all your family was well off and had many connections around the country and world. "John, let me ask you something," your dad began. "My dearest daughter R/N is a noblewoman, she is kind, smart and holds herself to high standards, my question now is, do you understand her? Care for her beyond her beauty or wealth?"
"Of course I do, Sir." 
"Please, let's leave the formalities for later, John," Your dad pauses and looks at the garden in front of him. 
"I'm glad you see her beyond all that. And the reason I ask, is because she cares for you, matter of fact, her mother and I always wanted her to marry into a family of our choice however, what we noticed, is that she seems happier with you."
This caught John off guard, and a smile formed on his lips. Your dad continued, "She came home last week, told her mother and I about you and for the first time in forever, I saw her gush about someone. She never did this with other men her age and yet, I have reason to believe my little girl is in safe hands and you better believe I'll make sure you treat her properly." 
"I will swear to it. And if I may add, your daughter is beautiful in many ways, she surprises me time and time again. I want to be good for your daughter, I want to be the best version of myself for her," he looks at your dad. "I hope I have your blessing to keep making your daughter shine like the diamond she is," He extends his hand. "Very well," your dad shaking his hand. 
"Now, let's head inside, it's time for you to meet the rest of my family."
It was odd, people at base told him he would have to pretend to be important and yet, he felt more welcomed here than anywhere else. As he walks to the dining room, he finds himself looking at all the small details of the home, from the walls, floors and ceilings. How can someone as stunning as you care for a man like him? He won't ever know.
Your mother, in all her glamour, siblings greeting him with manners and you, with that star smile. Fuck are you all he ever dreamed of. 
"Be yourself and impress," was all that played in John's mind. As all of you sat down, your mother and father began to ask questions. "So, what does a captain like yourself do?" Your mother began the round of questions. "Operations for the military, ma'am." He says carefully. And of course, your family knew all he ever did in his career with the military. "Do you play golf?" Your oldest sibling asks. John nods, "If you count one match as playing golf, then yes." His answer made you smile, at least he was being himself and not some man who wanted to sound like a stuck-up rich bastard. 
As dinner went on, your family grew fond of him and they understood why you would fall for a man like him. He had all the qualities a man for you had and more. "We're hosting a dinner party, we hope you join us." Your mother made the official invite. John squeezes your hand under the table, you smile as if you had won a contest. "I'll be sure to attend, with my beautiful date of course," he kisses your cheek and for the first time since a child, you blush and look away. Your mother chuckles, "Oh to be young and in love."
Back in the car, as he opens the door for you, you turn to him. "Thank you."
"What for, love?"
"Being yourself and proving to me that you are worth it." 
Oh did it make his heart flutter. "No need to thank me, all to be with you." he kisses your forehead and holds your hand to get in the car. 
"Drive safe, kids," your dad says as he waves goodbye. "Will do, sir."
That night, John replayed the evening in his head. The poetry books, the stupid lessons he took, none worth the better conversations he had with you and your family.
As time passes, your family starts to grow fond of him. Siblings call him their brother-in-law, and parents call him son. And there were you, in that dress, overlooking the gardens as you stood on the balcony. "I love you," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "I love you best," you say. Wine and laughter, Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine, Cashmere, cologne, and white sunshin. Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine. The kids were young and pretty.
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