#ali grace tea

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Could you please write Maegor getting upset when his wife, who was forced to marry him, refuses to hand over their new son, after his birth.

A/N: I hope you like this!

pairing: Dark!Maegor Targaryen x Reader

summary: Maegor getting upset when his wife, who was forced to marry him, refuses to hand over their new son, after his birth.

Word count: 1,1K

Warnings: Angst, forced marriage, childbirth

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"You're not the first or last woman he will marry" Tyanna of the tower hissed in your ear the night of your wedding. You were only ten and five namedays old when your father married you to Maegor in hopes of an alliance and to get on the good graces of the cruel king.

"Why is he doing this?" You had sobbed as she herself braided your hair for the bedding. Your mother had explained what it entailed but Tyanna had made Maegor sound like a monster in the bed, that you will probably perish in between his arms as he fucked you.

"He needs a son, an heir" Tyanna answered. She secured the last braid and moved away from you. The sorceress provided a vail from her waist band and held it out to you. "For fertility" She had promised so you would not have to bed Maegor for long. You gulped it down without a second thought wanting to get rid of him.

That night Maegor and you performed your duties, he was gentler than Tyanna explained but with no mercy unlike what your mother had explained. You were in pain after and could barely move but the more he came to you the easier it became.

When you fell pregnant Maegor rejoiced and threw feasts and tourneys claiming his heir was coming. Tyanna's true face came out then, she had doubled her visits unlike Maegor's other wives, Ceryse and Alys of Harroway. The two women sympathised with you because with your pregnancy came Maegor's attention as well.

It was Alys who had stopped you from drinking a tea Tyanna brought you, it was a tea to help you with the birth, to make it easier and faster but Alys was suspicious already and called in a maester and alerted Maegor of the incident. Alys was right, the tea was meant to turn your child into a monster, sorcery, Maegor killed Tyanna in front of your eyes. Terrible mistake of his now you feared him more than ever, he was ready to kill anyone and everyone.

He had presented her heart to you muttering that it was for the sake of your son. The sight of her heart in his hands sent you into labour, you were terrified. Alys had stayed with you during the labour, trying to calm you down, trying to remind you that you were bringing a new life into the world.

Ceryse however stayed outside of the chamber with Maegor, she saw herself above being by your side during your labour, she was of higher statues, she was the niece of the high septon after all. Other than that she was of much older age than you two combined probably, she you had never truly asked for her age.

"Good job, your grace" The maester praised from between your legs. You panted leaning back against the pillows. Alys dabbed a soaking rag against your overheated skin.

"Again, your grace, you're almost done" The maester encouraged. You took a deep breath and pushed when the next contraction began. A scream came out involuntarily, it was just very painful. The pressure slipped out of you after almost seven hours of labour.

"A son!" The maester rejoiced pulling the bloodied child out. He squealed out, crying for warmth. The maester placed the crying child over your stomach so he can cut the cord connecting you to your child and deliver the after birth.

Maegor was unable to wait anymore but what broke him was the sound of a child crying from inside. Ceryse's face dropped at the sound, she had failed her duty, another woman had presented him with a son, a living heir. Maegor brushed passed her to walk into the room.

Midwives were running around the room with bloody rags and pots filled with bloodied water. You were laying on the bed with a pile of pillows keeping you upright, your hair was wet from sweat and face red, your breathing was ragged but your eyes were focused on the baby crying in your arms. Even Alys was crying beside you, relieved that maybe the birth of this baby would lessen the weight on her shoulders.

"Oh my baby" You whispered, unaware that Maegor had stepped into the room. The white haired baby tried looking up at you but was unable to raise his head. You moved him to lay in your arms at an angel that let you look at each other.

"Shhh baby, mommy's here" You swayed him slightly in your arms. He calmed down, opening his eyes finally to show the most beautiful shade of purple eyes ever.

"A son your grace, congratulations" The maester was the first to notice Maegor. He stood up straight with the after birth still in his hands. Your gaze moved to look at him stood by the door, eyes stuck on the child in your arms. You pulled your son closer to your chest.

"My son" It was like he was in a trance. He stepped closer the bed slowly. Alys moved off the bed and to the side to help some of the maids choose a dress to put you in after they bathe you.

"Give me my son" Maegor opened his arms, a grin decorated his face. You feared him now more than when he would glare at you.

"No" You squeaked, shaking your head from side to side. The room fell deathly quiet at your words. Alys closed her eyes fearing for your safety.

"Give me my son" Maegor ordered, eyes glaring down at you, his smile slipping slowly off his face. Alys scrambled to the other side of the bed and took a seat beside you. She reached to touch your arm but you flinched away from her touch.

"No, don't take him away from me" You cried, holding him tighter, closer to you. The maester could notice the anger in Maegor's eyes growing closer and closer to craziness at being refused to hold his first child.

"Your grace, if I may" The maester handed the after birth to one of the midwives and moved to stand by Maegor's other side. Maegor side eyed him giving him permission to speak before turning to glare at you, you glared right back with tearful eyes.

"Some mothers grow overprotective of their children when their first born, maybe we should give the queen some time to adjust to the child, it is like an instinct, not her fault or choice your grace" The maester spoke lowly. If you could you would growl at him like some animal. To Maegor you looked like a dragon protecting her eggs.

"Get her snapped out of it fast, I want my son" Maegor hissed. He pushed the old maester to the side and stormed out of the room to begin preparations of the celebrations in his heir's honour.

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #maegor the cruel #maegor targaryen #maegor imagine #maegor x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #maegor #tyanna of the tower #tyanna of pentos #alys harroway

[flowerandblood]

Guilt | Greed | Grace

[ modern! • Aemond x stepsister! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, angst, smut, kind of incest but not really, brat taming ]

[ description: After one night together, he and his stepsister remain amused by the whole situation and that they have taken revenge on their parents in some way. Aemond begins to wonder if his relationship with Alys makes sense when their parents decide to go away for the weekend and leave them alone at home. The power of angst, ironic, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

Part 1 − Rage | Revenge | Relief Part 3 − Pride | Promise | Price Part 4 − Blame | Betray | Bliss

Series & Characters Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

After what they had done, they both began to fall asleep in his bed, exhausted after their physical exertion and fulfilment. His stepsister woke up before dawn − she slipped out of his embrace and stroked his hair before she left, quietly closing the door behind her.

He surprised his mother and the rest of the family by coming down for breakfast in the morning; Criston stood up, startled, and walked over to him, extending his hand to him. He shook it, trying to hold back a grimace of satisfaction.

"Criston. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He said with the clear hope that he had finally broken through, that there would no longer be such a tense atmosphere in the house.

He looked at him forcing himself not to smile.

I fucked your daughter yesterday, Criston.

And it felt so fucking good.

"Aemond. Me too." He said low and matter-of-factly, turning away from him even though he could see he wanted to say something more, surely to ask how his studies were going or what he was planning to do today.

He sat down at the table taking a seat opposite his daughter, who for a brief moment pretended to be extremely focused on cutting pancakes with jam. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to take a bite into her mouth and swallow it, and she finally lifted her gaze to him.

"Hi." He hummed and she pressed her lips together, her eyebrows arched in amusement − she was all red, her innocent embarrassment making him feel a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen.

"Hi." She whispered, immediately leaning over her pancakes, trying not to laugh, and he reached for the toast with a smile of satisfaction.

His mother and Criston watched them with astonishment, Daeron being the only one who seemed to notice nothing and simply ate his cornflakes with milk, surely focused with his thoughts on some test that awaited him at school.

"Why are you laughing? Is something wrong?" Asked Alicent, clearly amused herself, suspecting that this was clearly not the first time they had spoken.

She and he shot each other a quick glance over the table − she didn't seem terrified and he figured she wouldn't mind if he played with the situation a bit.

"Nothing. Something funny just happened yesterday. Right, kid?" He asked indifferently, throwing her a defiant look, biting into his toast with a loud crunch.

She almost choked on the sip of tea she had just taken from her mug in the shape of a dog's head and looked at him with big eyes, hearing her pet name that he had used earlier in the night.

He thought with amusement that her mug fit her perfectly.

"Yes. Very funny." She muttered wearily, pressing her lips together and quickly taking another bite of pancakes, trying with the last of her willpower not to smile or laugh, looking at him pleadingly.

"Don't you want to tell your daddy what you did?" He asked ironically and she burst out laughing, looking at him with her eyebrows raised high, accepting his challenge.

"Maybe you should brag to your mum about what happened first." She said defiantly and lightly, taking a loud sip from her cute doggie cup, and he bit his lip, deciding that he probably needed to say enough so as not to overdo it.

"I see that whatever happened you two quickly found common ground." Said his mother with a sort of expression of contentment and relief, as if she understood from all this that something funny had happened in their absence which had made them, willy-nilly, grow closer to each other.

In a way, it was true.

In a way.

"Yeah. We got closer." He said lightly, and she just threw him a calm, happy look without saying anything else, eating the rest of her pancake contentedly.

"Okay, I'll drive Daeron to school and come back to drop you off at the university, okay?" Criston asked her, but before she could answer anything he interrupted him with a word.

"Big brother will drive his little sister to school. Get yourself together, I'm leaving in ten minutes." He hummed, putting the rest of his toast in his mouth, walking over to the machine to make himself a quick coffee. Criston wanted to protest, saying there was no need, but his daughter ran quickly to get her backpack without even listening to him.

He drank his coffee and started to put on his shoes, waiting for her when his mother came up to him, an expression of gratitude on her face.

"That's very kind of you, Aemond. Thank you for trying, you don't even know how much it means to me. I know it's hard for you, but…"

"Mhm. Ready?" He asked completely uninterested in what she was saying to him, noticing his stepsister behind her − she quickly put her trainers on her feet and nodded.

They moved to his car, which he opened remotely with his key, and settled comfortably in their seats, buckling their seatbelts. He turned on the engine and played a Guns N' Roses record, backing out of the driveway, neither of them speaking to each other as they drove.

He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye as they stood at the traffic lights − he looked at her dress, light, girly, revealing part of her thighs, on top of which she had thrown on a thick, short, light-coloured jumper fastened at the front with big buttons.

It seemed incredibly fluffy to him, from a distance he could sense that it smelled like a pleasant laundry softener.

He shuddered when a driver in the back honked at him, frustrated that he hadn't moved off despite the green light being on. He looked in the mirror, furious, driving off with a squeal of tyres.

"Fucking old prick. Where the fuck is he in such a hurry?" He growled more to himself than to her, but felt her glance back at him with a smile, twisting in her seat, hugging tighter her material backpack lying on her lap.

He felt odd about the fact that she hadn't spoken to him the whole way − for some reason he had a feeling she would flood him with questions about what had happened between them last night, or who he was, what he did for a living, if he had anyone.

He parked in front of her faculty without turning off the engine, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye; only then did she look at him, her eyes big, her gaze calm, her face gentle and full of some kind of gratitude and understanding.

"Thank you very much. Have a nice day." She said softly and he swallowed loudly, looking at her with his jaw clenched.

"… you too."

He watched with indifference as she unbuckled her seatbelt and walked out, closing the door behind her, running towards a group of people, a couple of guys and one girl, hugging them one by one.

He licked his lower lip wondering if any of these boys had fucked her before him and rolled his eyes, deciding he didn't give a shit and drove off, not wanting to be late for his own classes.

He sat in the ancient history lectures thoughtfully, unable to concentrate on what his professor was talking about despite it being his favourite class.

He had already managed to get a few messages from Alys − she was asking him when they were going to meet again, sending him a picture of herself getting ready for work, saying that last night had been wonderful.

He stared at her messages with a blank stare, thinking only of the fact that he had been dating her for several months, and was only able to think about Criston's Cole's daughter.

About her warm, tender hands holding him close to her body, stroking his hair, neck and back with her soft fingers until he fell asleep while being still deep inside her.

He felt a sort of tightening in his pit, a discomfort, an unpleasant sense that something was wrong; he ran his hand over his face, sighing quietly, putting his phone aside and closing his eyes.

He didn't know himself what he thought of this relationship.

He felt that he had got into it because it was his way of taking revenge on his mother, because it allowed him to get physically off, to feel mature, to feel desired, to have somewhere to run to.

But now that his final revenge was done, now that he felt he had his mother and Criston in his grasp, that he had mentally regained control of the situation it all lost its meaning.

He felt nothing for her.

He wasn't even sure if he really liked her.

He felt some kind of shame and embarrassment at the thought that he had devoted months of his life to someone who was so indifferent to him, fucked her for hours like some kind of animal.

Looking at his stepsister, he felt empty, because she was full of everything − warmth, peace, understanding, joy, courage, humour.

Everything he was missing.

He decided to take a break from Alys for the time being and focus more on his studies, which he had neglected in recent months; he pretended not to listen at all if and when Criston's daughter came home, if she went out in the evening or not.

He noticed with interest that she had caught a close relationship with Daeron very quickly, being able to give him what he was unable to − she listened to his childish problems at school when they ate dinner and gave him advice as if he were an adult.

She was the only person besides Daeron he spoke to when he passed her or if they were at the table together − she usually asked him to hand her something, or asked if he would pour more water in the kettle so she could make herself a cup of tea too.

He was used to dropping a bag of Earl Grey into her doggy mug; each time she looked at him gratefully when he handed it to her already poured with boiling water.

"Thank you."

He would sometimes see her sitting on the sofa in the living room watching TV, texting with someone on her phone and involuntarily wonder if she was in love with some boy.

For some reason he felt discomfort at the thought, as if he had really stepped into the role of her older brother and wanted to know who she was talking to and where she was going out.

Of course, he would never dare to ask her about it and kept his frustration to himself.

She didn't impose on him or try to talk to him by force knowing it was pointless, something his mother and Criston couldn't comprehend, barraging him with questions he didn't feel like answering.

Some part of him was curious about her, about what she had read and what she had listened to, about what she thought about it all, what she thought about him.

From that day on, he drove her to her classes every morning even when his started much later just to be alone with her for those few minutes.

He once dared to put his hand on her thigh as they stood at the traffic lights, unable to contain himself any longer, stroking her soft, smooth skin with his thumb.

He felt a shudder pass through her, felt her looking at him, but didn't dare reciprocate her gaze fearing what he would see in it.

Disgust, condemnation, mockery, sympathy.

He swallowed hard when he felt her fingers gently stroke the skin of his hand and did so until they reached the car park.

Only then did he look at her with an indifferent, cold stare hearing only the loud pounding of his heart in his ears.

She looked at him with that warm look of hers, the worry on her face coming from some kind of tenderness and affection.

He touched her cheek, her full lower lip, soft and shiny, and she parted it slightly. Driven by some strange, natural reflex, he slid his thumb deep between them, her pupils dilated, her flesh clenched on his finger, sucking it.

He felt it in his cock so hard that he flinched.

He pulled her to him by the nape of her neck in one sure movement, pressing his swollen lips to hers in a wild, loud dance of tongues, teeth and saliva − she threw her arms around his neck, his fingers sliding into her soft hair.

His hand was already sliding down her body between her thighs when they both gasped and pulled away from each other, hearing someone approach the car beside them − he involuntarily licked his lips feeling her wonderfully sweet taste.

She looked at him with wide-open eyes, her breathing sped up and uneven, making the glass on her side steam up.

"See you at home. Have a good day." She mumbled warmly unbuckling her seatbelt and walked quickly out, closing the door behind her.

He ran his hands over his face and slammed the dashboard of his car with all his might, furious at himself for being so desperate.

He kept repeating to himself that this was only supposed to be one time, a simple fun, sweet revenge, but nothing more.

She was a good kid, she wasn't to blame for the situation between Criston and his mother, he didn't want to hurt her.

However, what he felt in his trousers told him exactly what he thought of her and what he wanted.

The worst part was that it didn't look like she was going to stand up to him if he came to her to take it.

He sighed heavily, recognising that they were both fucked up, though she was certainly less so than him.

At least she wasn't a fucking sociopath.

During his lectures, he realised that his mother had texted him a few weeks ago the phone number of Criston and his daughter in case he needed something from them, had to leave them the keys to their house or just wanted to contact them.

He knew that his mother and Criston had decided to take a weekend away to relax together from all that was going on, and Daeron had taken the opportunity to spend that time with his favourite friend.

He felt throbbing in his trousers at the thought that they would be staying home alone.

That they could fuck all night long if they wanted to.

He licked his lips, wondering with a pounding heart whether to show desperation, whether to text her or not.

Since he had her number, she had his too.

After a few hours of pondering, he gave up, deciding that he couldn't take it any longer, that he needed to talk to her, to make sure she was thinking about him too.

After all, it was impossible for what they had done to be completely normal and meaningless to her, wasn't it?

Once the decision was made, he felt some kind of excitement. He wrote her into his contacts as Little Sister 🐶 with a smile of amusement and after a while sent her a message with his heart beating fast.

He shuddered when after a few minutes he saw the new notification on his phone, unsure if he wanted to read it, feeling horrified at the thought that she might have thought he was a pathetic little boy craving her attention.

He unlocked his screen after a moment and went into the messages with his heart beating fast and his throat clenched.

He felt relieved at the thought that her answer was perfectly normal, without a trace of mockery or discomfort − for some reason, the fact that she answered him pleasantly flushed his ego.

He stared at his screen with his heart beating hard, tapping the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the thought that he might be able to spend the night with her again.

Although he hadn't been home for dinner for weeks, this time he appeared back straight after class, startling his mother, who looked out to him from the kitchen.

"Aemond! I thought it was Criston. How good you are here, will you eat with us before we leave?" She asked softly and he shook his head, taking an apple from the bowl on the table in his hand, running up the stairs and locking himself in his room.

He didn't feel like sitting there looking at his face.

He heard the sound of the front door opening, the voices of Criston and his daughter, from which a shudder went through him − he felt excitement and some kind of anticipation.

He was browsing the internet on his phone, eating the fruit he had brought with him with a loud crunch of flesh, when suddenly Alys started calling him.

He stared at the incoming call from her chewing slowly, wondering if he should pick up and think of something quick, say he felt bad or just admit that it all made no sense.

He did nothing feeling his heart pounding and sighed heavily when he got a text message from her a minute later.

He decided that keeping her in the dark was cruel even for him, so he decided to write her back.

He sent her a reply, sighing loudly, and rolled his eyes when the message from her popped up practically immediately.

He pressed his lips together feeling an unpleasant squeeze in his chest − he was sick to his stomach at the thought that they might be getting back together again, but it wasn't her fault.

It was him.

All he had left was shame.

He wrote back quickly and blocked her number so that she could no longer send him any messages or call him.

He thought that only this would make her realize that he was serious.

He shuddered when he got another notification of a new message and thought she had written to him from another number, but was surprised to see that someone else wrote to him.

He got up immediately, walking out of his room, running lightly down the stairs, seeing her searching for something on his TV with the remote, probably looking for a movie already.

She was wearing a top with characters from The Lion King and shorts, her hair loose, pretty and shiny, its dark curls falling over her shoulders.

"If we start now, we might be finished by five in the morning." She said with amusement and nodded at the table top. "If you want, unwrap the crisps and put them in the bowl. Shall I spread out the sofa so we can lie down comfortably?"

She asked, looking at him questioningly, getting up from her seat. He nodded, opening packet after packet, pouring their contents into plastic bowls, trying not to think about her naked stomach, her nice long legs and the fact that she wasn't wearing a fucking bra.

They brought a couple of glasses, bottles of drinks and bowls of crisps close to each other and spread out comfortably, covering themselves with blankets and laying their heads on the big soft pillows she had apparently brought for them from upstairs.

They watched the first fifteen minutes focusedly, paying amused attention to scenes that had become memes − he pressed his lips together when he felt her lay her head on his shoulder, her hands embracing his arm, he could smell the pleasant scent of her shampoo.

He took a loud sip from his glass, trying not to think about the fact that he had been completely hard for about half an hour, that he felt like he was about to go fucking crazy because of her.

His hand under the blanket involuntarily slid down to her bare legs, running it up her knee; he felt her flinch, but instead of moving away she pulled closer to him.

He bit his lower lip feeling his heart pounding hard as his fingers slid between her thighs, teasing her through the material of her shorts in slow, circular motions.

He felt her press her body tighter against his shoulder, her hips began to rock to the rhythm of his hand, a quiet, blissful sigh escaping her lips that told him everything.

He pressed his lips together holding back a groan of surprise as her small hand slid down to the bulge in his trousers, her fingers began to press against his erection, massaging it up and down in a calm, slow motion.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling that he was terribly hot, the dialogue from the film seemed to him to be just background and he had completely lost interest in it.

He looked up at her with his lips slightly parted as she rose and with a light, sure movement pulled her top off over her head − he immediately reached to the belt buckle of his trousers to undo it when she took off her shorts and underwear, no sign of shame or embarrassment on her face, only shy smile.

She sat on top of him without hesitation as soon as he slipped his boxers down a little, stroking his scarred cheek with her warm fingers, placing her other hand on his shoulder to keep her balance.

He guided his swollen cock, throbbing with impatience, to her entrance and licked his lips, dry with desire, feeling that she was already all wet. She slid it deep inside her with ease, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He groaned low and tilted his head back, panting along with her as she began to rise and fall on top of him, stretching her fleshy, hot walls with his fat length, feeling how wonderfully tight she was, how loudly her naked body slapped against his.

"− fuck, little one −" He gasped helplessly, desperate, with sure thrusts impaling her on himself; she mewled sweetly, her hands slid under the material of his black Tshirt and brushed across his naked chest, making him shiver.

He ran his hands over her buttocks, her back, her waist, wanting to savour the feel of her bare skin under his fingers, until finally he grasped her soft, plump breasts in his hands, teasing her hard nipples with his thumbs.

She gasped as she felt it, her walls clenching against him making them both sigh helplessly, speeding up − she slid her hand into his hair and kissed him, her lips so warm, her tongue so wonderfully moist, that he purred loudly into her mouth.

"− it seems you have missed me, big brother −" She cooed warmly, innocently, stroking his neck, hair and cheeks, looking at her so closely he could see how pink, puffy and glistening her lips were.

He felt his cock throb hard at her words and began to thrust it into her faster, clamping his hands on her waist and on the back of her neck, sitting up so that her whole body was pressed against his, his face at the level of her chin.

"− me? − you're fucking leaking, kid −" He scoffed with a grimace of amusement, moving inside her more aggressively, forcing her body to fit all of him in, deliberately sliding into her with lewd, loud click of her moisture, a pathetic whine escaping her lips.

"− look what you did to your big brother − how fucking hard he is because of you − have you no shame? −" He hissed and she sobbed with an expression on her face as if she was very sorry to have disappointed him, her lips parted slightly, a moan escaping from them each time his thighs slapped against her buttocks again, her breasts bouncing lightly.

"− I didn't mean to −" She mumbled with difficulty, embracing him with her arms − she gasped and moaned when he pressed her against him and grabbed her breast in his mouth, sucking and licking her nipple for a moment, releasing it with a loud plop.

"− you didn't mean to? − putting on that fucking slutty top without a bra? −" He growled and bit her neck − she sobbed and whined loudly, clenching her fingers painfully tight on his back and hair, letting him fuck her as fast and hard as he wanted.

"− I'm − I'm sorry −" She mewled as if she really felt guilty, cuddling her face into his temple, trailing her warm, puffy mouth over his cheek until their lips clung to each other again in a greedy, sticky kiss, his hips spreading her wide on his thick cock with quick, sure, deep thrusts.

"− you need to be taught a lesson, hm? − you need to be fucked more often so you'll behave properly −" He exhaled and she nodded her head as if she dreamt of nothing else, their lips and tongues rubbing and brushing against each other in moist, dirty kisses, he could feel her walls squeezing him faster and faster, that they were both on the edge.

"− yes − yes, yes, please, oh-fuck −" She mumbled and tilted her head back with her mouth parted wide as her body trembled in strong orgasm − she tried to push him away, moaning loudly, but he held her close, fucking her brutally through her peak until he came inside her with a loud sigh of pleasure, his warm semen filling her insides.

"− that's it − take it − take your brother's cum like a good girl −" He breathed out into her mouth, with thrusts of his hips pushing his seed deep inside her, her hands stroking his hair and back, their bodies all sweaty and hot.

He fell backwards, leaning back against his pillow, laying with her in a semi-prone position, breathing loudly as she did, their fingers trailing over their bodies as if they were blind and wanted to remember what they had done with senses other than sight.

"− fuck − oh God −" He gasped, completely relaxed and satisfied, lazily opening his eyes, looking at the screen again, noticing that by some miracle the action had moved to Rivendell.

They both inhaled loudly when the light in the driveway turned on, and after a moment they heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.

They looked at each other in horror, his stepsister quickly got up from him with a loud splat of his cock against his stomach, grabbing her underwear, shorts and top.

He stood up zipping up his trousers, wanting to give her a bit more time occupying whoever came in, fixing his hair in the mirror and suddenly Daeron walked in, all weepy. He swallowed loudly in relief, looking at him in disbelief.

"What happened?" He asked, trying to hide the tremor in his voice and the loud pounding of his heart. Daeron shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing. Thomas is not as nice as I thought. He only gave me his worst toys to play with and we only played the games he likes." He mumbled pulling off his shoes − he licked his lips, glancing quickly over his shoulder, hearing the rustling of the fabric, looking back at him.

"And what are you doing? Watching The Lord of the Rings?" He asked curiously, apparently hearing the dialogues, going deeper − he wanted to stop him and went after him, but their stepsister was already sitting on the blanket, dressed as before, only slightly more red, scared and smiling at the same time.

"Hi. Yes, we are watching The Fellowship of the Ring. Do you want to join in?" She asked softly and he nodded wiping his cheeks, pulling his backpack off his back and laying down next to her, taking a handful of crisps in his hand.

"I'm going to go to the toilet for a while, you keep watching." She mumbled, and he led her away with an amused look, thinking only of the fact that, sure enough, his semen was just running down her thighs.

She came back after a few minutes and lay down between him and Daeron, slipping under the blanket, his hand immediately going to her thigh − he felt her flinch and swallow loudly, her fingers slid down to gently stroke his bare skin.

They gave up after watching the second part, deciding that they would finish together the next day, and covered themselves with a shared blanket, with the other enveloping Daeron, who had already fallen asleep a few hours earlier.

He embraced her from behind, deciding that he didn't give a shit if his brother woke up and saw it, or if he told their parents about it.

All he was focused on was the pleasant warmth of her body and the smell of her hair, his nose pressed into the hollow of her neck, her fingers entwined with his.

"− wanna be my girlfriend? −" He hummed softly into her ear, just thinking about how both wonderful and fucked up this vision of a relationship was.

She nodded silently, wrapping herself more tightly with his arms, pressing her back and buttocks against his body − he could feel that she was smiling. He murmured contentedly and snuggled into her closing his eyes, finally falling asleep.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #dark aemond smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell smut #modern aemond smut #modern aemond angst #dark modern aemond #modern aemond #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond kinslayer #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell fandom #house of the dragon fandom #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst

[stellar-skyy]

Hiii congrats on 200!!

May I have hot honey & vanilla tea with lyney? Extra fluffy if you can 😌

“lyney! i have an order for lyney, a honey and vanilla tea!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: Lyney finds his partner crying, and reminds them they are loved. ii. CWS & NOTES: crying. reader has a bad day and lyney comforts them. lyney x gn!reader. hurt/comfort & fluff. established relationship. 1k words. iii. A/N: aly!! thank you for your order!! i think i bent the prompt a little bit, so this came out a bit more hurt/comfort than strictly fluff, but i hope you enjoy regardless!

Lyney slid his key into the lock, turning it with a click. The noise was loud in the quiet of the night, abruptly tearing through the silence. He paused, letting the night settle once more, before pushing the door open.

“[Name]! I’m back,” Lyney called, hooking his finger under the brim of his hat to tug it off his head. It was tossed unceremoniously onto the table, along with his gloves. His boots were next, stacked beside the door in a row with the rest of the shoes.

“Hello…?” He tried again, gently pushing open a door to peer into a deserted living room.

There wasn’t any sign of life in the room, but there were traces. The pillows were askew, scattered above a small dent in the couch where someone had left too quickly to smooth it back down. A mug rested on the side table—his mug, Lyney noted, not theirs—with the residue of a drink long gone still lingering at the bottom. There was a strange silence in the air, which unnerved him more than he would like to admit. At this time there was always something; distant beats of music coming from somewhere in the house, or the unintelligible sound of chatter from the television two rooms over, or even just quiet thumps and echoes that reminded him of another presence within the house.

“My dear, are you home?” Lyney called out again. The sound of his voice reverberated across the walls, with no answering call to meet him. His brow furrowed further, an uneasy feeling seizing him tightly. It wrapped itself around his lungs, squeezing tighter with every step out of the living room and through the hall.

A light glowed dimly from under the final door of the hallway, their shared bedroom. Straining his ears, he could hear a low, muffled sound from behind it. A smile graced his lips, coated in relief, and the tension slowly eased itself away from his chest, if only by a fraction. They were in the bedroom, it seemed; they had simply turned in early. There wasn’t a need to worry at all.

Still, Lyney was ill at ease. It was late in the night, far later than any reasonable person would be awake for, but they always waited for him on nights like these. Their face filled his thoughts in every step of the walk home, idle wonderings of whether they had made dinner yet, or how they were spending their evening.

Lyney gripped the doorhandle, swinging the door open with a touch too much force. The bedroom was dark, save for the light of a bedside lamp dimly illuminating a curled-up figure on the bed.

“Ah, there you are! I was beginning to think you pulled a disappearing act on me! But of course, I’m the only magician here—” He cut himself off abruptly, as his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room. Squinting, he could see the outline of their form grow sharper, smoothing out to show the details he had missed on his first glance.

A sheen glossed over their red and swollen eyes. The edge of the blanket was clutched in a hand so tight it was shaking. Their breaths were fractured, drawn sharply from their place under the sheets.

“Are you alright?” Lyney asked, keeping his tone light, in spite of the panic clouding his thoughts. His mind was buzzing, spinning in circles with constant questions of why. “Come on, you didn’t miss me that much, did you?” He tried to joke as he walked up to the side of the bed, grasping at any chance of easing the tension in the room.

A weak sob broke apart any feeble attempt at lightening the mood.

“Shh… I’m sorry, it’s okay, I’m here…” he whispered, settling a hand on their cheek. “You’re okay. I’m here. I love you.”

I love you. The words fell almost too easily, surprising himself. Love was always a distant emotion to him; felt, but rarely spoken aloud, for fear it would vanish the moment his lips formed the words. But he knew he loved them—so much, so much more than they would ever be able to see.

“I love you,” he said again, firmer—to convince himself as well as them. His hands shifted from their cheek and brushed along their arm with a feather-light touch, grasping their hands in his own. He brought them to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “Now what’s wrong? Did you have a bad day?”

A murmur; not quite affirmative, not quite refusing.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to.” He reassured them, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on the side of his hand. “I’ll be ready when you do.”

Lyney let go of their hands for a moment to shrug off the outer layers of clothing, letting them fall into a pile on the carpet. He didn’t bother to properly change into his nightclothes; instead, he fell onto the bed, costume and all. The corseted portion of his outfit dug into his skin uncomfortably, but he barely noticed; he was too busy tugging them against his chest.

“I love you,” he said as he kissed their forehead, leaving his lips resting on their skin for a beat.

“I love you, so much.” He murmured as his fingers began to card through their hair, working out all of the tangles that had found themselves there.

“I love you, and whatever you’re going through, I am here for you.” He promised as he pulled them as close as they could, resting with their face in the crook of his neck and his arms draped loosely on their hips.

Their sobs soon evened out to low, shuddering breaths that left them shaking in his arms. Lyney was still, only daring to move his hand to trace circles across their back. Even with all his reassurance, they were yet to speak a single word. He continued to speak anyway, pressing his nose to their head and whispering into their hair, between gentle kisses to their face.

Each one was a promise, a lingering reminder that he was there. One to the bridge of their nose, one more to their forehead, two to each of their cheeks. They were peppered across their face, scattered like invisible stars in the smallest of skies.

He would wait there as long as he needed to, murmuring gentle words under his breath until they knew just how loved they truly were.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ] #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #lyney x gn reader #lyney fluff

[thought--bubble]

Right Place, Wrong Time Pt 2/3

Dark Aemond X (Out of World Reader)

Warnings after the cut

This is the second half of the story based on THIS request.

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Right Place Wrong Time Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: Meant to post this last night but got caught up working on school stuff and didn't have time to edit. My apologies! enjoy!

Warnings:: dubcon, mentions of controlling behaviors, isolation, Breeding kink, rough sex, domination

You attempt to remain patient, but as each day passes, you find yourself growing more and more restless. Since your little foray into town with the prince, you have tried your best to stay out of his way in an attempt to not annoy him into "taking care of the problem," the problem being you.

Yet over the last two days, he has begun to seek you out. He never mentions any updates regarding your return back to your world and you haven't been able to muster up the courage to ask him, but today your impatience got the better of you and you had to ask for an update something to put your mind at ease.

So, when you were requested to his chambers for a morning meal, you hyped yourself up in the mirror.

"He wants you gone just as much as you want to be gone," you tell yourself. "He won't get mad. Not if you ask him the right way"

You shake out your limbs before being escorted to Aemond's chambers. Upon entering, he is sitting at his table, Sir. Simon stands beside you.

"You may leave us," Aemond says sharply.

"I am not to leave you alone for ... for her honor, your grace." Sir. Simon stammers.

"Her honor shall be respected and intact. If anyone asks, you stayed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, your grace," Sir.Simon bows his head and takes his leave.

"Sit." Aemond gestures to the chair across the table from him.

"Thanks," you say gently, bowing your head as you slowly sit down in the chair.

"How are you adjusting?" He asks as he pours himself some tea.

"Oh, ummm. Ok, I guess." You pick at the small biscuit in front of you. "Not too worried about it..... since I'll be leaving soon"

Aemond puts down his tea cup harshly, the clanking of the cup against the dainty plate it sits upon causing you to jump.

"That is....... delayed. So you would do well to attempt to assimilate. " He pours her tea, his jaw is clenched tightly, and the tension can be seen in his neck and shoulders.

"Oh... may.... may i ask what the delay is?" You play with your fingers nervously.

"Missing ingredient." He lifts his cup to his mouth, sipping his tea.

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Just one?"

"Yes, but it is a very important one. Incredibly difficult to obtain, " he smirks. "Please, eat your biscuit." he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.

You pick at the biscuit briefly before looking back at him. "That woman, Alys? she's your lover, isn't she? She was in the books anyway"

"We had a brief tryst, yes, but I had to break it off when i realized my interests lay..... elsewhere"

You panic at this revelation. "Will she still help us? Since you cut her off or whatever?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, you sweet naive little thing." He gets up from his chair and walks around to your side of the table, standing over you. "Stand up"

You gulp audibly as you slowly rise out of your chair.

"I wish not to play this little game with you anymore." He brushes his thumb over your lower lip. "You are not going back"

"What?!" You shriek.

He pulls you into his chest and strokes your hair. "Shhhh sweet girl"

You push against his chest, trying to break from his grasp as he just pulls you tighter to him. He kisses the top of your head and sighs.

"The missing ingredient is the witch"

Your entire body goes rigid at his words, and you look up at him. "Alys?" You whisper.

"Mmmmmm," he strokes your hair some more while he looks down at you. "When I decided that I wanted to keep you, I thought it best to rid myself of the one person who could send you back" He leans down and smells your hair while goosebumps travel their way up your arms and up the back of your neck.

"W-w-where is she?" You ask the question while being terrified of the answer.

"Oh sweet girl, there is no need for you to be concerned about such things. All you need to know is that there is now no way for you to get back. " He rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones, cradling your face and angling it up towards him.

A surge of fear shoots through your entire body as you feel your legs grow weak beneath you.

"Oh, you are speechless, one of your best attributes, I must say." He holds you tightly against his body, gently swaying back and forth with you in his arms.

"Why?" Your voice is broken. You look up at him like a wounded animal that was just injured by its own master.

"Oh," he coos, gently stroking your face. "Because i want to keep you. Here. With me. As my wife. I will be the only one to know the true you." He gently pokes your nose. "The only one you can rely on completely. I will have you, and you will have nothing but me. " He rubs his cheek against yours. "You may be scared right now, but your loyalty will come with time when I am the only person in all the realm you can speak freely with"

You look towards him in shock. "My family? they must be worried. " You start to pull back tears pooling in your eyes.

"We are to be married, we will make you a new family." He pulls you back to him. "Do not be sad, my love"

You attempt to push yourself out of his embrace, but he holds you tightly and chuckles. "Still some fight in you, I see .... we can fix that"

He takes you tightly by the waist, just lifting you off the floor, walking you from his main chamber into his bed chamber.

You wriggle your body, trying to break free from his grasp. "Let me go!"

He chuckles as he continues to carry you into the bedchamber and then tosses you on his bed before quickly climbing on top of you, pinning your hands down on either side of your head.

"This is what you have wanted since you got here. You said it yourself." He leans down and starts to bite and kiss your neck.

A jolt of excitement runs through your body. This man is insane but he is also still very hot. So while your brain is screaming at you to stop him, your body is heating up, and a tingling pleasure is starting to build in your core.

he hums into your neck as he starts to unlace your dress. "You will be such a cute little wife, completely dependent on me." As he got the laces undone, he starts to pull the dress down and off your shoulders.

You sigh, the feeling of his hands on your skin as he slowly pushes the dress down. Your body is sending ripples of pleasure through you, but the prospect of being stuck here forever is frightening. "Aemond," you whisper softly. "I can't stay here"

He stands up, pulling the dress over your hips and down your legs, tossing it to the floor. "Oh, but you have no choice, sweet girl." He pushes your legs apart with his knee.

Tears start to stream down your face when the reality of your situation starts to set in.

He wipes a tear off your cheek and then kisses down the side of your neck, trailing down to your chest. You feel warmth spread through your body at his kisses, your crying starting to subside as you allow yourself to just feel physical sensations in this moment pushing your emotions far into the recesses of your being.

He continues kissing down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your chest and over your chemise on your stomach. Once he makes it down to your thighs, he pushes your chemise up around your hips, bringing his mouth directly to your sensitive skin.

You begin to tremble with anticipation as his kisses trail lower and lower. He bites into your thigh, not very hard but hard enough to give you a jolt before he quickly pulls back and kisses the injured flesh.

He hooks his finger around the centerpiece of your small clothes, slowly dragging them down your legs as he continues to sprinkle kisses along your thighs.

He pushes your legs apart and places gentle kisses along your folds, and then lifts himself up sitting on the heels of his feet. "See? There's no reason to cry. " He smirks before lowering himself to you again and licking one long strip along your heat, lapping gently at your pearl.

Your eyes shoot open and stare directly at the canopy above you as the heat and pleasure build up inside you. He continues to swirl his tongue around you as he slowly brings his hands up to your hips, moving you against his face in a gentle rhythm.

You bring your hand up to your mouth and bite down on your thumb to stifle the noise that is aching to burst its way from your chest. As he increases his pressure and speed, he grips tightly on your hips.

"Oh god," involuntarily spills from your mouth, and you can feel Aemond smirk against your skin for a brief moment before continuing his movements until he brings you over the edge.

You lay back on the bed your entire body pulsating, but Aemond has no plans of letting you rest. He quickly strips himself down to nothing and pulls you up.

"My turn." He grins and kisses you harshly on the mouth before quickly turning you over and pulling your backside up towards him. This all happens so quickly that you are bewildered, your body still shaking from earlier.

He slowly slides his hands up your back, tracing the curve of your spine. He pushes himself against your entrance and groans as he slowly enters you.

"Knew I had to keep you." He grips your hips tightly, his fingernails lightly digging into the soft flesh there. "Scared, lost little thing," He bottoms out with a loud groan. "You will make a perfect mother." He slowly starts to move against you.

You start to breathe heavily as you feel your cheek slide against the soft sheets with each thrust, the pressure of which gets harder and more aggressive with each movement.

"I'll fill you up" He continues to increase his pace as he runs a hand down your back and slides it into your hair pulling your head off the mattress as he wraps the strands around his hand.

"Every. Single. Day. " He pulls your hair tighter as your back starts to arch from the pull.

"Until you are bursting with my babes" He suddenly pushes your face back down and into the mattress and his pace becomes punishing, the loud smacks of skin on skin contact filling your senses your own sounds muffled by the mattress.

He pushes your face further into the mattress as he smashes his body into yours, the force of his movements pushing you further and further into the soft sheets.

He moves faster and harder against you than you thought humanly possible as you lose all sense simply drowning in the experience. Your movements are not your own, and while you feel powerless in this situation, you also feel a sense of relief.

As his movements become sloppy and uncoordinated, he growls loudly like an animal pushing you down harder into the bed until he is spent as he rubs his hands up and down the sides of your waist.

He chuckles and leans over, kissing you gently along your spine.

"You will be happy, here, sweet girl"

He places a few more gentle kisses on your skin.

"You can trust me"

Part 3

To be added to taglist click here

#aemond x reader #ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark!aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #possessive aemond #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewanverse #ewan nation #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #jess fics

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 30

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

TW: death, murder, sexual assault, assault in general.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty: Blood and Cheese II

The Dragons descended into Westeros with avarice, and with avarice their dynasty continues onwards. Blood against blood, dragons against dragons. The Targaryens have conquered the six-kingdoms, yet their their biggest enemy is themselves.

Alyssa, the princess was always drawn to the ocean. She liked the feel of the waves on her knees, the rough sand on her barefoot. She holds her son, Aelor, close to her bosom. "Where could your father have trailed off to?" she mused, staring deep into her son's eyes.

Aemond days ago.

Alicent would not provide her a clear answer.

Cordelia peeks through the small curtain that hid Alyssa's body. "The Queen calls for you, princess." she bowed. Alyssa's eyebrows merged into each other. "It is far too early in the morning for conversation," she smiled, hoping to dismiss the handmaiden.

"I-I, well the Queen was very firm. It would be best to follow her, princess." the handmaiden stuttered, knowing something that her lady did not. A creature of doubt builds inside of her ribcage. Alyssa was no stranger to war.

Her real father, Daemon Targaryen, fought thousands of them before she was whelped into the world. "Is it important?" her frown deepened and the handmaiden nods. "Very well, prepare my gown and take good care of Prince Aelor." she commanded while rising to her feet.

A dragon does not cower behind the four walls of her bedroom. She fights all her battles, the same.

Alyssa takes a step forward, entering the threshold of her good-mother's bedroom. There were pastries scattered on the table, a warm cup of tea waiting for her.

"Your grace." she curtsied, then licking her chapped lips. "Alyssa, how kind of you to join me." Alicent smiled with a knowing stare. There was something behind those brown irises that unnerved her. "Have you seen Prince Aemond?" she inquired with a cautious tone.

"Your grandfather is dead and the soldiers march for war against Rhaenyra." Alicent says frankly, no longer interested in sugar-coating her words. A gasp escapes her mouth. King Viserys was dead? "I have sent my son away to make negotiations with House Baratheon." she adds, her eyes filled with much more sorrow than usual.

Alyssa tries to calm herself down, but her heart was filled with anger.

"You thought it would be fit to usurp the rightful Queen?" she questioned, still trying to keep her tone soft.

"King Viserys told me before he died, that he changed his mind."

"- thought that Aegon was deserving of his titles." Alicent lied.

Alyssa clenches her fists. "- but that isn't the truth, isn't it?" she argued, wanting nothing more than to jump into the arms of her beloved husband. If Aemond was beside her, she'd convince him - they'd defect and crown the rightful Queen.

"You need not lie to me. If I had been in your shoes, I would've done the very same. It is not everyday that a woman's son becomes King - but even the blind could see that Prince Aegon is not a worthy heir." she presented clear, and offense strikes the Queen Mother's face.

"He is greater than his father. He listens to his advisors." Alicent grits her teeth, unamused at Alyssa's defiance. "- and I assume that you believe yourself to be his advisor." she antagonized. "You were the King's advisor too, but that did not save you. My Queen, I apologize for my brashness, but you do not wish to be free, you merely wish to create a window of your prison." Alyssa scoffed.

Queen Alicent was about to respond, but a knock halts their argument. Her uncle, Lord Larys Strong, marches inside of the chambers. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." he curtsies, quickly sashaying to Alicent's side.

He leans forward, whispering a few strings of words, but the premise was clear enough for Alyssa.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon was dead, and Aemond had been the one to butcher him.

Saera takes a deep breath, in fear of what Rhaenyra was capable of. "One cannot even imagine the pain she's feeling right now, I fear that she'll do something. She'll want to get even." the White Princess breathes, playing with the bracelet on her wrist.

"- that means that Alyssa and Aelor are in danger?" Daegon inquires, his eyebrows merging into each other. He couldn't bare the thought of harm coming to his twin sister.

Daemon presses his fingers to his lips.

"Rhaenyra will not harm them. We are her strongest allies, losing us could mean losing the war." he gave his informed opinion. "- still, you are right, love. Alyssa and Aelor will not be safe in Kingslanding."

"We are caught in a limbo, then?" her eyes narrowed. "We must get our daughter back, yet we are stuck here - and the mere sound of our arrival could mean death." she takes a sip of her wine.

She was trying to keep up her stone-cold facade, so that her son wouldn't be rattled, but all she wanted to do was cry. Her mind couldn't help but drift off to Alyssa. She must be scared.

Daemon places a tender hand on her shoulder, already aware of the inner workings of her mind. He gives her stare, promising her that everything would be fine in the end. "I have spies in Kingslanding. I'll attempt to have Alyssa back - Aelor, I believe will be safer there."

"We shouldn't involve ourselves in this war, muña. It is between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon. Let us flee to the Free Cities, take everyone and never return." Daegon suggests.

Daemon glares at his son.

"Dragons do not run with their tails in between their legs. We fight our battles, and Rhaenyra's battle is our own. The same blood flows through our veins." he corrected, wholly understanding of his son's cowardice. "Viserra and Daelon are children, in times of war, horrible things happen to children." Daegon defends.

"But we are here, all of us to protect them. A house united, is a house unbreakable." Saera breathed, and only then did Daegon's eyes softened. "- and when war is over, the dragon feeds."

Aelor's face was soft - almost the same visage as his grandmother. There was a smile on his face, oblivious of the torment that was to ensue, Ser Criston takes a seat beside Alyssa. "He is safe, but not for long." he whispered, so only Alyssa could hear his opinion. "He is guarded by four walls, and a dozen guards. Surely Princess Rhaenyra will not harm us? Not Aelor?" Alyssa frowns, the knight shakes his head. "She may not harm you, but she will harm Prince Aemond's son. She will seek revenge." he scowled.

Alyssa couldn't do anything but blame her husband - her good-mother, and everyone involved in supplanting Princess Rhaenyra. "Then you must make it your personal goal to protect Prince Aelor." she pleaded, staring deep into his honeyed eyes.

"I shall do my best, but it is not a guarantee." Criston bows.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, staring at the men in front of her. “Mysaria mustn’t know of this,” she asserted - knowing that the whore was on her sister’s side. “- I want you to execute Prince Aelor.” she commanded, dropping a few gold coins on the table. 

“It will be done, my lady.” the older man replies with a smirk. 

“What’s your name again?” She raised her eyebrows. 

“My name’s Blood.” 

“And I’m Cheese.”

Saera wasn't one to wait for the proper timing. She had her mind set on one goal, and she'd exert all of her efforts into getting it.

"Lady Mysaria, what are you doing here?" Alyssa frowns, holding Aelor close to her chest once more. "There is a clear passage back to Dragonstone, your mother intends for you back within a fortnight." Mysaria informs, taking a step forward.

"What about Bluefyre? Aemond? Aelor?" Alyssa asks.

"You may take Aelor, but the dragon and your husband must remain." Mysaria made a decision of her own. "I cannot leave without them." Alyssa says clearly, hoping to provide salvation for the ones to be left behind. "You forget that it was your husband who betrayed you first." Mysaria articulated, her voice suddenly becoming cold.

Alyssa's heart breaks, recognizing that the woman wasn't lying. "He murdered a child, your cousin." Mysaria attempts to sway the Princess. "- I have not spoken to him since before that night. I'm sure that if we were to have a conversation, things would be clearer." Alyssa defended, it was her right and oath.

When she vowed to marry the One-Eyed Prince, she also vowed to be understanding, to always present alibis when it came to him, and to always be loyal, even when the circumstance proved to be difficult. "I wish that it was that easy, but we do not have much time. We cannot leave right now, but tomorrow - use the secret passages that your uncle taught you. Meet me in Princess Saera's solars, and we shall leave for Dragonstone."

Princess Alyssa couldn't sleep. Her heart was beating rapidly, threatening to come out of her chest. She was tossing and turning, unable to find even a blink of rest. Today, she was a spoil of war - a prisoner in her own home, but tomorrow, mayhaps, she'll be free.

Why must it all come down to this? A year of marriage with her much beloved husband was turning into another tragic tale. Alyssa wished nothing more than to be free of the narrative, to live somewhere where these - things couldn't come near her family.

An object falls loudly on the floor, Alyssa reaches for the dagger underneath her pillow. "Aemond?" she cleared her throat, "Princess," a gruff voice replies, and another man steps into the light. It was not her husband - it was a different man.

He was broad and tall, he had a stubble on his chin. "Who are you?" she pointed the dagger at him. "I'm Blood, and my brother is Cheese. We were sent here to murder your son." he says casually.

"Not him," she shielded her son away from their view. Aelor, was unfortunate enough to be laying beside her on the bed, instead of his own room with the handmaidens. Blood and Cheese must've known, but who could've sent them?

"A son for a son," Blood grins.

A chill ran down her spine.

Princess Rhaenyra?

"What did she pay you, I shall double it?" Alyssa pleaded, vulnerable in her thin nightgown, her body almost bare to the eyes of the intruders. It made her feel dirty, tainted almost.

"Gold does little to deter us, Alyssa." Blood takes a step forward, only a few inches away from her. "Then you'll have to go through me." Alyssa bravely defends. "That will not be hard."

She stands up from the bed, remembering all her lessons with Prince Daemon. Even when she's standing on the bed, her head barely reaches Blood and Cheese's forehead. He tries to move his hand forward, but Alyssa manages to sever his little finger.

"Cunt," Blood mumbled, anger pumping through his veins. He raises his free hand, slapping Alyssa across the face, sending her on her knees. "You are still a little girl eh'. You can't defeat me." he antagonized, commanding his brother to pull her back.

Cheese carries her with ease, dragging her on the floor. "Please I beg of you, if Prince Daemon or my mother finds out about this - no god shall save you." she cursed at them, fighting through Cheese's malevolent hold. "Take me instead, please!" she screamed, in shock that no one has heard yet.

"Do whatever you want with me, but not my son." she cried.

Cheese chuckles, pressing her back to his chest. "Whoring yourself out to us? Desperate." he teased, and Aelor cries loudly.

Blood carries Aelor by the neck, muffling his cries of agony. "Maybe when we're done with this little runt, we'll fuck a bastard inside of you." he chuckled, opening a window and threatening to let go of Aelor. Tears began to flow harder from her eyes, Valyrian whispers of revenge, until Blood lets go.

And her son falls to his death.

taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness @thefallenangel21n @seamonkie

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

[levmada]

TRANSLATIONS

taken from various twt sources but mainly this person!!!!!

Levi watches his mother faced away drinking steaming tea at a table in their home(?), sitting maybe cross-legged?

I was born underground, and have only ever seen what was in the Underground city. But I thought, it’s so extremely dirty here and the air is putrid, but my mother seems even more graceful in contrast.

This takes place on a bridge

Levi tried to steal the teacup his mom sold back?

L: That’s alI I remember clearly.

L: I never wanted that (mom’s goodness) to be taken away from me [so tried to steal the teacup back]

1st bigger man punches(?) Levi then kicks him down

1: Behave, you brat!

2nd guy tries to pull 1st man back

2: You idiot!!

2: Don’t you know!?

2: This is the kid Kenny the Ripper/the Ripper takes care of!

Levi clutches his side, bleeding from his mouth or nose.

2: If he finds out, he will end us!

1: I hope he doesn't, but it'll be no problem if we neatly chop him [Levi] up and feed him to the pigs.

2 more men appear and leer over him.

1: It doesn't really matter who this brat is/where this brat comes from. He messed with our stuff.

(arms crossed) 2: If the Yakuza/gang Kenny(?) in the underground city finds out, it's over for us.

Levi sits up looking tired with a bloody nose

L: …Give it back! It's my mom's...

3: No. This is Olympia’s.

3: She’s sick and can’t work/eat, [so she?] sold it out of necessity.

3: Now that it’s become valuable, the shopkeeper has decided to sell it on the surface.

zoomed out perspective

3: You’re just a sly trickster trying to make a quick profit. You know what’ll happen if you get caught, right?

L: ...

3: Is it hard for a kid from the Underground to even think?

zoom back in. Levi in the middle as the men speak above him

?: Hey, even if we feed him to the pigs, he’s nothing but bones. But you know what, there must be people who’d buy something like this, right?

4: Yeah, selling anything is our motto!

close up. one man talking into Levi’s ear. Levi’s eyes are closed, grimacing disgusted/afraid

4: We should make him do the same job as his mother... Who knows, he might have inherited some talent.

#i think this is more or less accurate #levi ackerman #aot bad boy #snk levi #snk final season #aot news #levi aot #levi snk #levi ackerman aot

[srbachchan]

DAY 5573

Jalsa, Mumbai                 May 20,  2023                Sat 10:06 PM

Birthday Ef -  Gopi Sheth .. Sunday, 21 May .. and the wishes of the Ef for your special day .. love ❤️

🪔 .. apologies for the belated birthday wishes to Ef Hassan Ali from Egypt for May 20 .. our affection always and all the good wishes ..

 and Ef Gopi Sheth from USA .. love and greetings from the Ef Family always .. ❤️❤️❤️🌿

“The World does not rest on your shoulders ; you don’t have to constantly correct people ; after all the onus of making everyone perfect is not on you ..”

Writers and publishers have continued to send me their books in complimentary grace .. and in my acknowledged response is a gratitude for the thought and the assurance that in time there shall be desire to read them .. the above quote being one such example .. 

The response is appreciated and further books arrive .. !

On travels beyond our shores, while trundling up to the Gate of departure at Airports, there was keen desire to stop by at the book store en route and rush through the best sellers of the time , acquiring some , and on the flight home, the desired wish of putting my name on the first page, the destination where the book was acquired, time and date , the flight details from and to .. and a quick rummage through the pages ..

Travel restricted .. the book stores in abeyance  .. 

BUT ..

Now, substituted, by them arriving voluntarily at the door step .. or rather on your desk .. 

How wonderful .. 

And the practice of the writing on the first page continues  .. 

Fascinating , is it not ..

Yes and the fascination gets justified when in the library storing Babuji’s books , you quite by chance come across one that has been signed and dedicated to you, with a short message .. 

One such , came across to me by the Wife .. a bit moth eaten but still in some legible condition .. marked to me from Cambridge in 1953 , during his study there for his thesis ..

A habit I never forget and pursue to date .. with the hope that some day the next generation , if it still shows interest in reading books and not internets, shall be chuffed at coming across one such roster , with some glee ..

In BHS, Allahabad - the Boys’ High School - in the year 1953 -54, when I was in the 4th or 5th Std., and Babuji was in England for his studies, I wrote to him that I had entered the Boxing ring in School, to enhance the Cock House points of my House, the Blue House .. and that after one successful bout, had got defeated in the next one .. and that my physical condition against a stronger opponent had given me a black eye and a bleeding nose  .. 

Some several days later - several, because parcels and letters came by boat then  - a book arrived for me ..  on boxing .. and inside on the first page was his signature, the date of purchase and destination and a quote from him :

“ Good hard blows are delights to the mind “ !!! 

On a visit to St Catharine's College, Cambridge during a shooting stint in England around the early 2000′s to see the College Information manual, and seek Babuji’s name , I was, on coming to know I was there, accosted by the Faculty Members of the College  and invited over for a cup of tea and a chat .. and I narrated this incident to them .. 

It was the heartiest laughter I had ever witnessed from a Britisher .. they are a bit reserved , aren’t they .. 

But .. I discovered that tales of a fight, any fight, seem to attract their attention rather more prominently than fish and chips  !!  

I depart .. शुभ रात्रि  ! 

A very early call tomorrow for work, in order that I can finish in time and drive rapidly back for the GOJ !

Amitabh Bachchan

[disgraceful-writings]

Love

Epilogue

Prince Aemond hasn't been at the castle due to his brother's, the king, orders. Will it be worth lives?

“Is it done?”

“Yes, the assassin returned with the blade last night.”

“Good.” The blade, wrapped in black cloth, was handed over and then placed on the table.

“What of the prince?”

“I’ll worry about that.”

They dismissed the man and sat at the head of the table. With their hands on their head, they whispered, “Please forgive me.” Then began writing.

Delbore Isle had gained a new king, y/n’s oldest brother. People called him Edward the downfall, as he has caused a once great kingdom to fall into debt and lose the majority of its subjects by creating wars he couldn’t win to “bring greatness to Delbore.” One morning, Edward sat on his throne to watch his court with a scowl on his face. “Your Grace”, a small child had brought him a scroll with the Targaryen house seal. He opened it and read of his sister’s demise, how she had watched both children suffer because of Rhaenyra. Shaking with rage, he stood abruptly, “Ser Laymond, gather what men we have left.” 

He left to his chambers to find his wife playing with their youngest of five. With a sigh, he sat next to his youngest daughter. She babbles and coos at her father, wanting him to create a house out of her blocks. He goes to help her construct and says, “Y/n, Rhagar, and Aemon are dead. We’ve been asked on King Aegon’s behalf to help them in their fight.” His wife nodded solemnly, as she watched her husband go through grieving the last member of his family. She kissed him on the cheek and said, “I love you.” He turned to look at her with a tear in his eye, “I love you too, all of you, more than you’ll ever know”, and turned back to see his child one last time before leaving. 

He and his men sailed to Dragonstone with the promise of meeting the King’s fleet, however, they were met with dragons and fire instead.

“Queen Rhaenyra, the Delbore fleet has been defeated with no survivors”, a soldier informed upon her landing. She nodded and walked to the hall for further battle plans, Daemon following behind. When they entered the hall, Daemon questioned, “Why only send one fleet? And Delbore’s dying fleet at that?” Rhaenyra hummed in acknowledgement. Daemon watched his wife as she placed her hand on her stomach. He rose and stood behind her to place his arms around her. “Go rest. I’ll join you soon”, Daemon placed a kiss on her temple and released her. She gave him a small smile and walked to their chambers. 

“Prince Daemon”, a soldier walked in with a small rolled piece of parchment, “This just arrived from King’s Landing”, and left with a bow after Daemon dismissed him. He opened the paper that was held by his family’s seal, only to find handwriting he had rarely seen. Y/n had written to Rhaenyra, seemingly before her boys were killed, asking for shelter from the Targaryens of the Red Keep and the hand, Otto Hightower. She spoke of how she believed Queen Alicent and her father lied to the world after King Viserys passed. It didn’t make sense to her how he was so adamant until his last breath. She knew Rhaenyra was the true ruler and had kindness in her heart. Daemon attempted to swallow the knot in his throat and threw the parchment into the fire.

Y/n and her sons were burned together in the velaryon tradition by their husband and father’s dragon, Vhagar. After the funeral, Alicent consoled her son as best she could and by the end of the night, gave him some tea with milk of the poppy to help him rest. When she left his chambers, she went to see her father. “Did she have to be killed too?”, she asked after sitting at his desk. He merely glanced at her in the candlelight and went back to writing, “What’s done is done. She was a liability to Aegon’s rule and we removed it. Now we just have to worry about the so-called queen.” 

Alicent put her head in her hand and sighed, “what about Alys? He confessed to me.” 

“The bastard in Harrenhal? He’ll need heirs, won’t he?”

“But they slept out of wedlock. He scor-”

“Then hopefully she is already with child.” Alicent looked at her father with large eyes. What they didn’t know was Aemond made his way outside the doors and overheard. With dread sitting in his stomach like a stone, he ran to the dragon pit to collect Vhagar and head straight to Harrenhal. Still a little drunk of the drink, he stumbles to Alys’s room. “Your grace?”, she asks as she shot up in the dark. He was the only one to ever visit her at this time, and he would be the last. He made his way over to her bed and stood above her, the moonlight shown on his sharp features. Reaching his hand up, he caresses her cheek and as she leans into the touch, closing her eyes, he almost stops himself. “I already killed one woman, why another?”, he thought to himself. 

Aemond dropped to his knees with a sob, and Alys reaches for him, falling to the floor alongside. “I’m sorry”, she softly spoke, “y/n was a good woman and wife. But now that she’s gone, we can start our own life.” She places Aemond’s hand on her stomach, and they looked each other in the eye. Aemond furrowed his brow and ripped his hand from her stomach, “I never finished inside you. That I know is true.” Alys panicked internally and saw his face morph into something she hadn’t seen yet, reprisal. “A-aemond, I would never cheat. I love you, you must believe me!” “Why?”, he asked with a stone-cold face. He swiftly unsheathed his dagger and plunged it into her heart. As she bled, he held her body as he did his wife’s. He picked up the corpse and placed it into her bed, leaving for King’s Landing and never returning to Harrenhal. 

Taglist : @watercolorskyy

<- Previous Chapter

Masterlist

#aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond the kinslayer #hotd aemond #aemond fic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #Aemond smut #Aemond brainrot #Aemond targaryen brainrot #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince regent aemond targaryen #prince aemond targeryen fanfic #aemond x y/n #the one eyed prince

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 3

Cw:mentions of std, description of syphilis, medieval punishments

Gif by @merlinaddams

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx

The Aemma that comes back is jubilant.

Not because of love, but because she is free of him.

Alicent recognizes that look in her because she once had it herself.

After that one last time that resulted in Daeron, the disease had eaten away at Viserys’ desire and his once mighty dragon had become a most pathetic worm.

Until the maesters say he is cured, Aegon is to abstain from all carnal acts.

A whore in the Riverlands had given him the pox and when they find her, her cunt will be scrubbed with lye soap and she will be put to death for spreading such a deadly disease to the future king of the realm.

The only issue, there had been too many given he had ---thank the gods--- a row with his bride and decided not to visit her bed.

“There is a problem, your grace.” The Maester begins and she knows it is bad news. Only bad news has been given to her these days.

“What sort of problem, Grand Maester?” she asks knowing he will have to repeat it to the Small Council soon enough.

“If the treatments work, Prince Aegon may become impotent. Lord Frey has not had a child since he recovered and neither has your lord uncle, Lord Ormund.”

Oh, do the gods love their japes.

They would need a Harwin Strong to sire and heir. A man to cuckold Aegon with in order to secure the succession.

A bastard will be king after all.

“Mention this to no one, do you hear me, Orwyle.” She ordered with a hiss.

No one can know Aegon’s sins have caught up to him.

Aemma is laughing on the swings she and Helaena loved as children.

“Aegon’s glory will die with him.” Helaena said beside her with a chuckle.

She spoke in riddles just as she did when they were children, on occasion Aemma understood her.

This time Aemma knows she is free of Aegon. Who will die with no legitimate issue.

The cures for this pox always leave the man unable to perform, or so her Septa had gleaned off the young acolyte that flusters when she speaks to him.

She may even become a widow, what joy!

“And how wonderful is that!” Aemma giggles trying not to be so loud.

She must play the loving wife, or at least tolerant wife in public.

But as long as he does not get into her bed ever again, she will be the devoted wife with a heart full of love.

Especially when she visits him in his sickroom while her goodmother, grandsire by marriage and other people who are allowed to know about his condition are there.

His illness has been kept a secret, well, the true nature of it anyways.

It is not chicken pox that he caught at an inn they stayed in.

It is syphilis, the Great Pox, the Lyseni Disease.

Not many survive it without losing their noses, or being disfigured, but Orwyle claims his colleague can cure him without such side effects.

“Are you with child?” he asks, remembering it has been nearly three moons since they wed.

“No.” her monthlies had come last week, and she had never been so excited to bleed.

“Shame. I suppose once I am cured, I can get back to sowing.” He said with a wink, trying to keep himself optimistic.

The look on the Maesters and the Queen says it all.

He will have no real heirs.

Aegon’s Glory will die with him.

Gods bless Alys Rivers and her magical cunt.

It takes another moon for Aegon to be cured.

Every day he was given strange teas, given a strange metallic ointment and made to sweat so the disease would not advance and destroy his face, genitals and drive him to madness.

Eventually, it went away, and he resumed his visits.

Visits she no longer cares for because she knows her belly will never swell with this seed.

She even smiles and pretends to enjoy it.

And the moment it is over she calls for a bath and goes back to her business.

Court did not lack for entertainment nor spiritual resources, but there were no topics beyond fashion, housekeeping, gossip and the gods here.

Even the card games became dull when all there was to talk about was things with little substance.

Some ladies did not read novels because their parents or husbands prohibited them.

Some don’t read histories because it wasn’t their place to learn anything beyond the basics.

Said it filled their heads with nonsense and all they needed to know was how to be dutiful wives and daughters.

Some ladies were not told about current events nor asked their opinions on such topics because it was unladylike.

“Have you finished reading Hardhome yet?” Aemond asked laying on the couch with his legs hanging over the edge.

Once they used fit there with knees bent and one on one end and the other on the other end.

Now she sits almost six feet away as it was proper.

No one here reads as much as they do.

Helaena could match them, but Daemion Velaryon never returned from his voyage and now Old Castle Driftmark passed to Daeron.

Besides people where whispering such horrible things now that she was with child again.

“Couldn’t put it down, if Maester Wyllis hadn’t run back to the lands beyond the Wall, I think I would have invited him here to ask him personally about his time there.” Aemma answers.

One of the great powers they had was that no one could refuse an invitation.

And if an author or a poet or inventor intrigued them, they could always summon them to learn first hand from them.

Just before she left Dragonstone, mother had the man who invented the printing press come and give a demonstration.

The first book made with it was a compilation of the few remaining pages of Signs and Portents, a book of prophecies hand written by Daenys the Dreamer herself.

Of course, then someone used the machine to write how Aemma’s brothers were bastards and mother a whore so she had Syrax burn it while Daemon cut the man’s tongue out for slander.

“You look happier now than you have been in days, has Aegon improved on acquaintance?” Aemond pretends his own question doesn’t bother him.

They got along like a house on fire despite the occasional butting of heads.

If only this were as easy as that with Aegon.

“Oh no, he is much worse. Orwyle should have humbled him a little by letting some of it scar.” Should she tell him?

He wouldn’t tell, he is not like that. Or so she thinks.

“Then what has you in such a good mood these days, you glow with joy so much I don’t think you need candles during the evening.” He is rather poetic in private, the woman he marries will be very lucky.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asks with a voice barely above a whisper and he swings his legs off the edge and sits on his couch.

Aemma almost leaps over the low table and takes up the space beside him. She is so excited to share this news she is practically on his lap.

“Aegon’s been left infertile.” She says with a squeal. Says it with as much joy a pregnant woman or soon-to-be bride has with their good news.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #all is bliss fic #aegon ii x oc x aemond #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #aemond x rhaenyra and laenor's! daughter #aemond x ofc #ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | twenty-three.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: violence

chapter word count: 3721

🔮 series masterlist 🔮

please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

🔮 tip jar 🔮 tag list 🔮

Determination

A low hum rang through the manor, inching into every corner and curling itself into your ears. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, meeting the golden light of the sunrise that seeped through the open curtains to grace the bed you slept in. You were warm and peaceful, yet the arms that you had fallen asleep in the night before - that had wrapped themselves around you to keep you safe even as you dreamt - were nowhere to be found. You sat up in bed, just as the hum grew louder, and you were able to make out individual voices as they floated up to your bedroom window from the grounds outside.

There Lucien stood, looking like a dream himself against the backdrop of green from your bedroom walls, golden-skinned, toned chest on show, hair in loose waves around his face as he stared out of the window. His golden eye whirled as it ran over the grounds outside.

“What is it?” You asked, voice groggy from sleep. Lucien barely startled at the intrusion of your voice into the silence. 

“The sentries,” Lucien said, his tone thoughtful. “They’re all here.”

You frowned, tucking the sheet around your body and moving to stand beside him at the window. The sunlight was bright against your tired eyes, but as your vision grew used to it, you found that Lucien was right. The grounds of the Spring Manor were as green and fresh as any other day, except that they were blanketed in the bodies of people milling about, wandering and chatting. Each one of them wore the familiar gold and green of the Spring Court sentinels - an army waiting for command.

“Is something happening that we don’t know about?” You asked quietly, just as Lucien’s hand came to rest at the small of your back. You blinked up at him; his face was grave.

“I don’t know but…it can’t be good.”

A knock sounded at the door then, and both you and Lucien spun on your heels as it opened slowly and Alis entered, a breakfast tray in her hands. Her eyes snapped from you to Lucien and then back again, and whilst her face noted disapproval, her eyes glinted in amusement.

“I wasn’t sure if I would find you in here, or in Master Lucien’s room,” Alis remarked, and you winced; you thought you’d done such a good job at sneaking back to your own room each morning that Alis hadn’t noticed. Apparently you were wrong. She placed the tray on the bed, the tea still steaming from the teapot.

“What’s going on outside, Alis?” You asked, not even glancing at the breakfast tray. Alis’ lips went thin, and she turned to Lucien, face paler than usual, even with her birch bark skin.

“Perhaps you should go and find Lord Tamlin,” she told him, voice wavering ever-so-slightly. “There are…rumours, downstairs amongst the servants.”

“What kind of rumours?” Lucien asked, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. Alis bit her bottom lip, hands wringing together at her front.

“Just…Just go and find Lord Tamlin.”

It didn’t take long for you to dress that morning - one of Lucien’s old tunics thrown over your head, large enough on you that it might as well have been a dress, and a pair of leggings - and Alis made quick work of plaiting and braiding your hair out of your eyes. A belt was wrapped around your waist, and a pair of heavy boots were pulled onto your feet, and by the time you were ready to go, leaving a rather nervous and jittery Alis behind in your room, Lucien was already waiting for you in the hallway. He extended an arm, and guided you down the stairs, through the foyer, and out into the chaos that awaited outside.

The second the doors opened, that low hum grew into a cacophony of voices, each one mingling and mixing, trying to be heard over the others. You didn’t miss the remarks of, ‘Why would he pull us from the border?’ and ‘What is he thinking?’ as the two of you passed by. You squeezed through the bodies, gaining the attention of quite a few of the sentinels who were likely looking to Tamlin’s emissary and sister for any kind of explanation; if only you had one to give them. Lucien walked first, your hand held loosely in his as you trailed behind him closely. Turning the corner, you almost walked straight into a familiar face.

“Wren,” Lucien practically breathed out in relief, “what is going on?”

Wren shrugged, glancing at the two sentinels that flanked him. “None of us really know,” he explained, brows furrowed. “We got word this morning that we were to return to the manor immediately. We were meant to patrol the Summer Court border for another week. Looks like the other patrols were sent back too.”

Lucien ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in confusion. “I don’t understand why Tam would do that.”

“You mean, you don’t know the reason?” Wren asked. “We were hoping, being emissary and everything, that you might have an answer for us.”

“I don’t,” Lucien said almost regretfully. “But I’ll find out, and when I do you’ll be one of the first to know. Have you seen Tamlin?”

“I saw him head that way,” one of the sentinels flanking Wren said, motioning toward the back of the house, “with that Priestess, Ianthe.”

Lucien nodded in thanks, tugging on your hand as he began pushing his way through the people in the direction that the sentinel had motioned. You paused, turning back to him.

“Thank you…” you said.

“Rhyder,” the sentinel said with a quick bow.

“Thank you, Rhyder,” you said again with a smile. Rhyder beamed.

“It’s my pleasure, my lady.”

Lucien tugged on your hand again, and you allowed him to once again pull you through the crowd. Rhyder had been right - you found Tamlin on the South side of the house, standing on the patio that connected to the manor, Ianthe at his side, whispering something inaudible in his ear. Lucien’s grip on your hand tightened at the sight, and you squeezed his hand in comfort, once, twice, three times, just as he always did; you could practically see the calm wash over him at the action.

“Tamlin,” Lucien called as you approached the bottom of the patio. The High Lord and the Priestess snapped their heads toward you both. Tamlin let out a low growl at the sight of you, and Ianthe sneered. “Tamlin, what the fuck is going on?”

“What is she doing here?” Was his only reply, green eyes flashing to you almost challengingly.

“She is as much a part of this court as you are,” Lucien said with a cool calmness that you’d never heard from him before; the voice of the equitable emissary. “She’ll remain here with me, whether you like it or not.”

Tamlin snarled again, but Lucien was quick to revert the subject.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly. “Why are the sentinels here? Why did you remove them from their border posts?”

“I need more guards on the manor,” Tamlin replied flatly, turning his attention fully to Lucien, practically ignoring you entirely.

“At the expense of losing guards on the border?” Lucien snarked. “What about the villages? Are they simply to fend for themselves?”

Ianthe’s plump lips pursed as she took a step forward, almost between Tamlin and Lucien. “That will be taken into account.”

Lucien practically growled as he leaned to the side, looking at the High Lord of Spring around Ianthe’s shoulder. “Tamlin, surely this can’t be-”

“We will discuss this later,” Tamlin announced firmly, directly enough that you knew there was no room for argument. “If you have any qualms about my decision - about my order - then you can bring them up then. For now,” he turned to Ianthe, who batted her long lashes at him, “please inform the sentinels to meet us in their training area.”

The priestess bowed her head in obedience and disappeared through the patio door that would lead her to the front of the house where the sentinels had gathered. Tamlin turned back to you and Lucien. “I would suggest you join us there.” He offered a pointed stare at you. “There are some members of this court who clearly need to be reminded of their responsibilities, and of their places.”

It was easy to find your way to the sentinels training area with the sea of bodies pushing you in the right direction. You held tightly to Lucien’s hand and allowed the crowd to carry you along, across the grass, until you reached the area where Tamlin and Ianthe were waiting. You fought down the anger at seeing Ianthe up there beside him on the small wooden dais that had been constructed seemingly from nowhere. She looked so utterly smug, like the cat that had caught the canary. Only you realised a moment later, to your own confusion, that it wasn’t a canary that she’d caught.

Four sentinels stood behind them, each one looking as pale and nervous as the next. Their armour had been stripped from them, leaving them in only their green tunics and pants - there were no familiar faces amongst them, not Silas nor Wren, not even Rhyder.

You and Lucien came to a stop at the very front of the crowd, right at the edge of the dais. It only took one glance at Lucien - at his tightly clenched jaw and fisted hands and furrowed brow - to know that he was furious. If you weren’t so confused, you were sure you would be too.

“Trusted defenders,” Ianthe called out to the crowd, her voice shrill, cutting through the murmurs of the other guards. A body pushed through behind you, and Wren hovered at your side, Rhyder just behind him, both of them wearing puzzled expressions that you were sure matched your own. “Yesterday, tragedy befell our court. The beloved betrothed of our High Lord - the future Lady of Spring - was taken from our lands. Stolen away from her family at the hands of the Night Court.”

A wave of whisperings washed over the crowd, and Lucien inhaled a deep breath. Tamlin didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, and the expression on his face… You were thrown back to Under the Mountain. To the stone-faced, statuesque version of your brother that had barely even acknowledged your existence for those final few months that you had been trapped there. He was so…unfeeling, uncaring. He was letting Ianthe run this show, whatever it was, and he was content to stand back and watch it happen.

“These sentinels were trusted to guard the manor yesterday,” Ianthe continued, motioning to the four guards behind her. “Yet, they were found to have failed in their duties. It was their ineptitude and carelessness that led to the capture of our court’s Lady.  This is not something that can go without punishment.”

She turned, snapping her fingers at the four sentinels who slowly and hesitantly stepped forward. You leaned closer to Lucien. “She can’t be serious.”

“I think she’s very serious,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You watched, mouth agape, as Ianthe approached the first of the four sentinels. She asked his name, to which he replied, “Todrick”. Tamlin slowly approached them from behind, emerald eyes glinting with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. Anger, perhaps, or…guilt?

You didn’t realise what had happened until you heard the scream in the crowd, until you saw the blood dripping from Tamlin’s claws scarlet red against the wooden dais, until Wren and Lucien froze, until Todrick’s body stiffened for a moment, and then crumpled to the floor. His eyes were glazed over, a sharp slice across his throat seeping red-wine like blood.

You wanted to vomit - could feel it swirling and churning in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. And when Tamlin and Ianthe simply stepped over Todrick’s body and moved onto the next sentinel - Roman - whose hands shook and whose face had gone pale and whose hands trembled as he glanced between Tamlin, Ianthe, and the body of his comrade at his feet, you knew that Tamlin and Ianthe weren’t just going to stop with one.

“Stop!”

It was a command, but not one that would be heeded. The large figure of Silas hauled himself at the dais, but with the flick of his wrist, a shield shot up around them, blocking Silas out.

“Please stop! They didn’t mean for this to happen!” Silas pleaded. His fists pounded against the shield, thumping lightly. Your heart cracked ever-so-slightly.

A flash of something akin to apprehension curled at Tamlin’s features, and for a second you wondered…wondered if that brother that you’d known so many years ago was still in there somewhere, coming to the forefront, making a reappearance before this went too far. Because that Tamlin never would have killed his sentinels, the guards who were so loyal to him, who trusted him so much. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, slinking away and ruminating in stoicness the second Ianthe began to speak.

“They should have thought about that before they failed in their duties, commander,” she said plainly, turning to Tamling and jerking her chin to Roman.

Silas let out a ground-shattering cry as Tamlin stepped up behind Roman, and in one swift flick of his claws sliced through the sentinel’s throat. Your hands were shaking now, and your stomach swirled dangerously, enough that you had to look away, had to hide your face in Lucien’s chest, blocking out the view of the blood. Of the bodies. Of their unseeing eyes that seemed to look straight through you.

Another cry as the next sentinel, Erich, was killed, and Lucien wrapped his arms around you tightly. His body was stiff and firm, and even if you couldn’t feel his pure, irate rage through that bond that you shared with him, you would have been able to sense it from him anyway. You certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

One final sentinel went crashing to the ground; his name had been Dermot. And then it was over, and Ianthe was addressing the crowd again with such disinterest laced in her tone that it brought you close to vomiting.

“Take this as a warning,” she said, and you finally risked glancing back in her direction. “Do as you are asked, and there will be no repercussions. Fail in your orders, and we will not be lenient. These four brought shame upon our court - brought shame upon the Spring Court Sentinels. Learn from their mistakes.”

Your vomit finally stained the grass at your feet.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I did what had to be done,” Tamlin replied, staring his emissary down. Lucien scoffed; there was anger there, in his veins, igniting that fire born of his Autumn Court heritage, but there was something else there, something he had never felt for his friend before: disgust.

There had been anger there before, discontent and frustration, but never disgust before. Never had Lucien felt that his friend had strayed so far from the path that there may be no turning back for him.

“Who told you that?” He snapped. “Was it Ianthe? You know that everything she does is only for her own gain, Tamlin.”

Tamlin growled. “I made this decision myself. Ianthe was only there to support my choice.”

“So you chose to kill those sentinels,” Lucien concluded, utter disbelief written across his features.

“Those sentinels have always been loyal to you.” It was Y/N’s voice that interjected, earning a glare from Tamlin. She hovered in the doorway, her skin still pale from the display that she had just witnessed. He had held her hair back as she vomited, her stomach empty of breakfast leaving very little to come up. He never wanted to see her like that again, especially not due to Tamlin. “They went out into the Mortal Lands everyday to help find a cure for your curse, knowing what needed to happen to them in order for you to succeed. They did that for you, and you repay them by killing their comrades.”

“You don’t get to speak in here anymore,” Tamlin fumed. “You lost that right.”

“Do not speak to her like that,” Lucien seethed. “It’s not Y/N’s fault that Feyre is gone, and it wasn’t the fault of those sentinels either.”

Tamlin swallowed, and his fists clenched at his sides almost as if he were trying to contain his anger. The air in the study thickened, enough that Lucien could feel the tension, could feel the battle taking place inside Tamlin’s head - inside his heart. To be the loving brother and friend, the forgiving High Lord, or the tenacious beast that sat at the very centre of that heart of his. A heart no longer made of stone, but frozen all the same.

“I had to make my position clear. I cannot afford mistakes like that in my court, not among my ranks.” His eyes shuttered, but his voice was lethally low and smooth - this was something he had told himself on more than one occasion that morning, had pushed himself to believe. They were no doubt the words that had been spewed from between the perfectly-bowed lips of Ianthe. “My forces need to be strong to keep this manor - to keep both of you - safe.” A pointed glance to Y/N; he was still trying to protect her, even now, even if it was in the wrong way.

Lucien relented, his shoulders sagging slightly as he ran a hand through his hair, the red locks bright against his golden skin, a reminder of the blood that Tamlin had washed from his hands moments before they had entered his study. “But the people in the villages, Tam. In the hamlets. Amarantha’s creatures are still out there, still crossing our border too frequently for those posts to be left unmanned. Those people - your people - will be left to die without anyone to help defend them.”

“My people are within the walls of this manor,” Tamlin said firmly, raising his chin. His hair fell over his eyes in a curtain, and Lucien couldn’t help but notice how much duller it seemed - no longer like the Spring sunshine had been captured in each and every strand, now closer to the nulled hue of the old hay in the stables. “And it’s them that I must protect. I…I can’t lose another one of you. Not again, no matter what you may think of me for it.”

His eyes fell on Y/N once more.

“We are not the only ones who need you,” she argued, flinging her hands into the air in exasperation. “Would you really leave those people without any kind of defence? Without even a warning that their villages might be ravished by a creature from the very depths of Hell at any minute? You’re their High Lord, it’s your responsibility-”

“Don’t speak to me of responsibility,” Tamlin interrupted, and Lucien flinched only slightly. “I know better than anyone the burden of that responsibility, the strain that being a High Lord takes. Have I not paid that price? Have I not given enough?”

Y/N took a confident step toward him, coming to a stop at Lucien’s side. Tamlin’s eyes flickered between them once, from Y/N to Lucien and then back again, narrowing slightly, but focused on her finally as she spoke again. Every word was laced with venom as she said, “Not enough.”

Tamlin growled, opening his mouth to snarl a response that would no doubt have any normal fae quaking in their boots, though he had no doubt Y/N would take it on the chin. But right as the first syllable of his insult was being formed, the door swung open, a red-faced, furious Silas bursting through the door. The three of them stopped to stare at him, and Lucien wondered for a moment if he had come to seek revenge for the four sentinels that Tamlin had murdered - sentinels that Silas had trained, certainly. But the sentence that followed was not one that Lucien had been expecting, and it made his blood run cold.

“There’s a Wyvern. Leif is under siege.”

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Lucien - he immediately strode to Silas, back straight and chin high. “We need at least ten of your best guards in the village to help us take down that thing, and another twenty surrounding the village to make sure it doesn’t escape. Which of your guards can winnow?”

“No.”

The word rang through the veritable silence in that room that followed. It echoed off the very walls as every pair of eyes fell on Tamlin - fell on their High Lord.

“What?” Lucien asked, not trying to hide the ire in his voice, the fury that laced that word.

“I said ‘no’,” Tamlin repeated, slightly louder than before. “I won’t be sending sentinels to Leif.”

Lucien baulked, his jaw dropping. “Is that some kind of joke?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” Tamlin said matter-of-factly. “We can’t spare the sentinels.” He turned to Silas. “They must remain here and guard the manor, under all costs.”

“But, my Lord, the people of Leif-” Silas began, but Tamlin interrupted.

“There are young males in that village - strong males,” he said. “They can deal with the Wyvern themselves. I will not risk losing more sentries when they are needed here.”

Y/N stepped forward, pure and utter shock written across her delicate features. “You would leave them to be defended by untrained males? You would leave them to die?”

The High Lord flinched at the word, but did not back down; he showed no sign of changing his mind. Lucien gritted his teeth, his feet pushing him forward. He was so close to his friend that he could smell the wine on his breath, despite the early hour, could see the way it tainted his lips blood-red. “Fine,” he seethed. “We will go ourselves, and you had best hope that no one is hurt.”

“Do what you must, Lucien.” It was the only reply Tamlin would have given.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland | @judig92 | @old-enough-to-know-better73 | @atrashsith | @chanaaaannel |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove | @lumos-barnes | @cumuluscranium | @dreamlandreader | @enrichmenttimeinmyenclosure | @rachelnicolee | @callmelovergirl |

#ACOTAR #ACOTAR fanfiction #ACOTAR fanfic #Lucien Vanserra #Lucien #Lucien ACOTAR #Lucien Vanserra fanfiction #Lucien Vanserra fanfic #Lucien fanfiction #Lucien fanfic #Lucien x reader #Lucien Vanserra x reader #Lucien x you #Lucien Vanserra x you #Lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra x y/n #rhysand #feyre #tamlin #cassian #azriel #amarantha #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #lucien smut #lucien vanserra smut #acotar smut

[raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka]

House of the Dragon Ep. 3: Second of His Name, a Summary (Incorrect Quotes Edition)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Daemon: *riding Caraxes and dracarysing people in the Stepstones* Crabfeeder, come out of your fucking cave and face me you son of a bitch!

Crabfeeder: *hides in the caves harder*

. . . . .

*Baby Aegon’s birthday party*

Some lord: Omfg, your grace, baby Aegon looks just like you!

Viserys: Of course, he does. He’s my son.

Hobart Hightower: Ah, look at that, baby Aegon’s only 2 and he’s stealing the people’s hearts with his cuteness.

Otto: *lowkey proud grandpa* This morning, baby Aegon ate porridge with his hands. Want to see pics?

Hobart: He’s 2, wtf did you expect? The king’s throwing him an over the top birthday bash. Hopefully, this is more than just him turning 2.

Otto: What do you mean?

Hobart: He’s 2, and not a baby anymore. King Vis should be naming him his heir.

Otto: Lol, it’s not that easy, big bro.

Hobart: Wtf, he’s the firstborn son.

Otto: Well…I don’t think he cares about that.

Hobart: Wtf Otto, you’re the Hand. Open his eyes, mofo.

Tyland: My king, I have some tea from the Stepstones. The crabfeeder pulled a surprise attack.

Viserys: *thoughts* Wtf not this again.

Viserys: Not now, Tyland.

Tyland: But it’s like a national emergency.

Viserys: Dude, it’s been three years. That shit can wait. It’s my son’s birthday. Now, forget about it and eat.

Viserys, to Lyonel: Is everything ready?

Lyonel: Yep, Jason wants us there by noon, I think.

Viserys: Hmm, btw, have you seen Rhae-Rhae?

Lyonel: Uh, no.

Tyland: My king-

Viserys: Wtf Tyland, I said not now.

Tyland: But we have to-

Viserys: *ignores him*

Viserys, to Criston: Where tf is Rhae-Rhae?

Criston: Uh, Idk.

Tyland: The Velaryons and your lil bro-

Viserys: Tyland, seriously?

Otto: Daemon and the Sea Snake started this shit on their own. Whatever happens, that shit is their problem alone.

Viserys: *frustrated* CAN SOMEONE JUST FUCKING TELL ME WHERE RHAE-RHAE IS?!

. . . . .

Rhaenyra: *having a picnic alone in the godswood, listening repeatedly to a live performance of an artist on spotify while reading*

Samwell: *song ends*

Rhaenyra: Again.

Samwell: Maybe you want to play the next song?

Rhaenyra: Nope. Just play it on loop.

Samwell: *starts playing again, then stops* Queen Ali.

Rhaenyra: Wtf I didn’t say pause. From the top.

Alicent: Rhae-Rhae?

Rhaenyra: Yes, Queen Ali.

Alicent: They need you in the courtyard, we’re about to leave.

Rhaenyra: Nope, I wanna stay here.

Alicent: Alright, Samwell, gtfo, I need to talk to Rhae-Rhae.

Rhaenyra: Wait, stay by order of the princess.

Alicent: I’m the queen, and I said gtfo.

Samwell: *bows and leaves*

Rhaenyra: *thoughts, mimicking Ali* I’m the queen, I can do whatever I want. Fucking bitch.

Alicent: Your dad wants you to come.

Rhaenyra: It’s not my birthday, I don’t need to be at the party.

Alicent: Rhae-Rhae, he wants us all to be together. I think it could be…fun? Idk.

Rhaenyra: Is it one of my dad’s orders?

Alicent: Well, yes, but-

Rhaenyra: *stands up* Then let’s go. Wtf are we still staying here for?

Alicent: But you shouldn’t worry about it, Rhae-Rhae. It’s-

Rhaenyra: *leaves* K bye.

. . . . .

Viserys: This is nice. Going on a roadtrip with my family.

Rhaenyra: *forces out a smile* …sure.

*carriage hit turbulence in the rocky road*

Alicent: *holds her belly*

Rhaenyra: Wtf. You’re pregnant. Why did you even agree to travel?

Alicent: Maester said I should breath in fresh air.

Viserys: You’ll be a mom soon, Rhae-Rhae. Then I’ll be a proud granddaddy.

Rhaenyra: Uh, no.

Alicent: It’s not that bad.

Rhaenyra: My mom died giving birth to my lil’ bro, so…

Viserys: Well, maybe you should come with me later and-

Rhaenyra: Eh, no. Boars are so yucky.

Viserys: Wtf did you expect? It’s a hunt. How would you like to join us then?

Rhaenyra: I’m not even sure why I’m here, dad.

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae, you’re my baby girl. The princess. It’s your duty to-

Rhaenyra: As I’m always reminded, wtf.

Viserys: Wtf did you say?

Rhaenyra: I said, you sound like a broken record because you keep reminding me.

Viserys: If you did your fucking duties, you wouldn’t be reminded.

Rhaenyra: Why tf would I even care? No one’s here for me. [girl, I feel you.]

Viserys: *visibly and emotionally concerned*

. . . . .

Rhaenyra: *enters tent and mostly gets ignored*

Lady wives and Queen Ali: *gossiping over tea*

Larys: I don’t think I’m allowed to go hunting, can I sit here with you girls instead?

Queen Ali: Uh, I guess.

Larys: Yay!

Queen Ali: Btw ladies, this is Larys Strong. He’s Lyonel’s son.

Lynesse Hightower: They said the Stepstones is a place for savages.

Ciera Lannister: Maybe the princess can give us some tea about it.

Rhaenyra: Oh, Idk shit about the Stepstones.

Ciera Lannister: Your uncle started this whole thing.

Rhaenyra: Idk, we haven’t chat in years.

Ciera Lannister: Of course, since your daddy chose you instead of him.

Alicent: Daemon made his own choices, all that shit is his fault. That’s why Vis chose Rhae-Rhae because she’s amazing.

Rhaenyra: Omfg thanks bestie.

Joselyn Redwyne: Well, Daemon made a mess and the king must make it stop. He must send his bad bitches to end those mofos for good.

Rhaenyra: Why? We’re not at war.

Joselyn Redwyne: But we are. Even though your daddy is still in denial, your uncle and the Sea Snake dragged us into it.

Rhaenyra: Ok, you’re complaining about it, I understand. So tell me, how exactly is your crinkly old ass helping the sitch, hmm? By sitting here in a comfy chair, petting your dog, and eating cake?

Joselyn Redwyne: …

Larys:

Rhaenyra: I thought so. Later, you old bitches.

. . . . .

Jason, to Rhaenyra: Hi princess, I’m Jason Lannister.

Rhaenyra: I know, lol. You have lion patterns in your clothes.

Jason, to a servant: Hey, get the princess a drink.

Rhaenyra: Omfg you look familiar. Your twin bro serves my dad, right?

Jason: *hands Rhae-Rhae wine* Yes, I think because he likes all the boring meetings. Btw, this drink’s made in Lannisport and it’s the best ever.

Rhaenyra: Uh, sure.

Jason: This place is nice, but the one near my house is better. You been there?

Rhaenyra: Once, but I don’t remember much.

Jason: You can get a nice view of the Sunset Sea from my house. I don’t have a dragonpit, but don’t worry. I have the money to build one.

Rhaenyra: *confused* Why tf do you need a dragonpit?

Jason: Uh, because you have a dragon. I would do anything for my future wife. *wink-wink*

Rhaenyra: Wait

Rhaenyra: *walks out* WTF

. . . . .

Rhaenyra: DAD WHAT THE FUCK?!!

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae, what-

Rhaenyra: You’re marrying me off to some old bat? Wtf is wrong with you?

Viserys: Baby, you’re 17. You’re legal age now.

Rhaenyra: That old bat is arrogant and a fucking idiot!

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae, people have been coming to me asking for your hand. And I HAVE TRIED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT, BUT YOU JUST SHUT ME OUT EVERY FUCKING TIME!

Rhaenyra: BECAUSE I DON’T WANNA GET MARRIED!

Viserys: DON’T YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME, YOUNG LADY!

Otto: Uh, my king, we’re in the middle of a party. So kindly just…shh.

Viserys, to Rhaenyra: You have to get married.

Viserys, to Otto: Wtf is it now?

Otto: Fyi, my bitches reports they saw a white hart stag. And think it will be the biggest tea for baby Aegon’s birthday party buffet.

. . . . .

Rhaenyra: *gets to her horse* I’m so getting tf out of here.

Criston: *sees Rhae-Rhae leaving* Wtf princess! Wait!

Rhaenyra: *ignores Crispy and leaves*

Criston: *gets into a horse and runs after Rhae-Rhae* WTF WTF WTF I have to protect her or it’s my head.

Criston: Princess, wait!

Rhaenyra: Go away, Crispy!

Criston: *catches up and stops the horses* You’re giving me a heart attack. Wtf happened back there?

Rhaenyra: My dad’s trying to marry me off to Jason Lannister. I mean, my daddy chose me as heir then just paired me off to some old bitch. Wtf is he thinking?

Criston: So…you want me to kill him?

Rhaenyra: *laughs* I wish.

Criston: I think we should go back to camp.

Rhaenyra: I don’t feel like going back yet. Maybe we should explore first.

Rhaenyra: Tell me, Crispy, did you ever got close to getting married?

Criston: Nope. I would’ve, but I chose to be kingsguard instead.

Rhaenyra: You’re so lucky you get to make decisions for yourself. Me on the other hand…

Criston: Rhae-Rhae, there are people who would love to take your place.

Rhaenyra: They’re only saying that because they’ve never been in my place, Crispy. I may be a princess, but I’m powerless.

Criston: No, you’re not. You literally had me in line to be a kingsguard. That’s not powerless. You’re a boss-ass bitch.

. . . . .

Viserys: *hunting and so bored* Are we there yet?

Hunstman: We’re following the trail, my king. The white hart is a symbol of royalty here, way before dragons came.

Otto: *excited* Omfg! This is so exciting! And this is happening on my grandson’s- I mean, Prince Aegon’s birthday! This is a sign!

Viserys: Uh…sure.

. . . . .

Viserys: *gets drunk*

Jason: Hi, my king. *shows him a spear* I had this made as a gift in honor of the baby prince.

Servant: *takes the spear*

Viserys: *lowkey unimpressed* This is nice, I guess.

Jason: I hope you’ll use that to kill the white hart stag.

Viserys: Uh, thanks for the spear.

Jason: Btw, I would love for Princess Rhae-Rhae to be my wife. If that happens, you will have strength.

Viserys: Wtf do we need more strength for?

Jason: Hey, if someone offers you more dragons, you’d take them, right?

Viserys: Bitch, do you even have dragons to offer?

Jason: ….

Jason: Btw, I have a big, nice house and Rhae-Rhae can live with me there. It wouldn’t be so bad after it gets taken from her.

Viserys: What will be taken from her?

Jason: Well, when you choose baby Aegon as heir.

Viserys: Why tf would I do that?

Jason: Well-you have a baby boy now. People just assume-

Viserys: People? So there’s many of you? Son of a bitch. Are you fucking questioning me about my choices on who’s going to sit after me?

Jason: Uh, no. I mean-

Viserys: Wtf I thought long and hard to choose Rhae-Rhae as the heir. The bitches in the kingdom should fucking remember that.

Jason: …

Viserys: Btw, thanks for the gift.

Jason: K bye.

Otto: My king. The white hart will be found, don’t worry. Btw, what do you think of Jason’s idea?

Viserys: It’s ridiculous. That bitch has a bigger head than I thought.

Otto: You’re not just Rhae-Rhae’s dad, you’re the king. You command her something, she’ll have no choice but to do it.

Viserys: I don’t want that for my baby girl. I want her to be happy.

Otto: I have another idea, btw. Maybe marry her off to her bro?

Viserys:

Viserys: Are you fucking serious?

Otto: Yeah, I mean-

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae’s 17 and Aegon is 2. WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Otto: But-

Viserys:

Viserys: Bitch, I came here to hunt. Not to talk about this nonsense!

Otto: Sorry. So sorry, my king. I have to go now.

. . . . .

Lyonel: I already sent people to find Rhae-Rhae, my king. Crispy Coleslaw went after her, so maybe they’re together.

Viserys: *drunk af* Where have I failed at parenting? I tell her to not do something, and she’ll do the exact opposite. Some king I am.

Lyonel: When your granddaddy Jaehaerys was king, there was peace. But his babies also drove him crazy. It runs in the family. Lol

Viserys: *drinks more wine*

Lyonel: Uh, don’t you wanna hear what I think?

Viserys: Lemme guess, you want her to marry one of your sons?

Lyonel: Lol no, I think she should marry the Sea Snake’s son, Laenor. He’s like the heir to the richest house in Westeros so technically, he’s the best option. Also, I think the Sea Snake’s still salty when you rejected his proposal to marry his baby girl. I just hope ser Laenor makes it out alive of the Stepstones though.

Viserys: Huh, that’s actually a great idea. I’ll think about that.

. . . . .

Criston: Princess, I really think we should get back to camp.

Rhaenyra: I think I like it better here.

Criston: I’m pretty sure, your daddy’s worried about you.

Rhaenyra: Idgaf if he’s worried or not.

Criston:…ok.

Rhaenyra: Hey Crispy, do you think I’d be accepted as queen?

Criston: They’ll have no choice, lol. Your daddy already made you his heir.

Horse: *uneasy* I sense something coming.

Rhaenyra: Omfg wtf was that?

Criston: *pulls sword* Stay calm, I got it.

Boar: *charges at Rhae-Rhae*

Rhaenyra: WTF CRISPY HELP!

Criston: *stabs the boar*

Boar: *still oinking* bitch you thought-

Rhaenyra: *stabs it repeatedly* JUST! FUCKING! DIE! ALREADY!

. . . . .

Viserys: *drinking and standing by the bonfire*

Alicent: Hey, you ok?

Viserys: *drunk ranting* I chose Rhae-Rhae to protect Westeros from Daemon. She’s my only baby. The realm’s delight.

Alicent: Uh, Viserys?

Viserys: *continues ranting*

Alicent: Ok, Vis. You’re drunk. Get some rest.

. . . . .

Otto: We didn’t find the white hart, but we did find this other stag.

Harwin: It’s not the white hart, my king. But he’s a big one.

Jason: *hands him the spear* Spear for the kill!

Viserys: *takes the spear* Alright, let’s do this.

Viserys: *stabs the stag*

Viserys: Ok, we’re done here.

. . . . .

Rhaenyra: *looks over the view of the Kingswood* Omfg it really is pretty here.

White Hart Stag: *shows up* Hey yow, Princess.

Criston: *grabs his sword*

Rhaenyra: No, it’s ok, Crispy.

White Hart Stag: K bye. *leaves*

. . . . .

Rhaenyra and Criston: *returns to camp with the dead boar*

Everyone: *gasps*

Rhaenyra: *covered in blood* I’m back, bitches! Miss me?

Everyone: WTF

Harwin:

Jason:

Rhaenyra: I brought a boar to be cooked, You’re all fucking welcome!

. . . . .

Alicent, to Otto: Hi daddy.

Otto: Did you enjoy the family trip?

Alicent: Uh, sure.

Otto: How’s my grandbaby?

Alicent: He’s fine. People are fond of him, btw.

Otto: Of course, he’s cute. Also, he’s the future king.

Alicent: Dad, isn’t Rhae-Rhae the heir?

Otto: Aegon is the baby boy. Rhae-Rhae is a girl.

Alicent: So?

Otto: So, he’s ahead in the succession. As boys always are before the girls.

Alicent: I can’t have my baby steal Rhae-Rhae’s birthright.

Otto: It’s Aegon’s. Why are you in denial about this?

Alicent: But-

Otto: You have to convince him.

Alicent: Wtf

. . . . .

Alicent: Hey, Vis. How you feeling?

Viserys: *still drunk, continues to rant about Rhae-Rhae*

Alicent: …

Alicent: *sees a letter on the table* Wtf is that?

Viserys: A letter from the Sea Snake’s lil’ bro.

Alicent: *reads the letter* Omfg, they’re asking for help. Why aren’t we sending help?

Viserys: Because it was started by two idiots who were not happy with my decisions. And if I do send help, what will the people say about me, huh?

Alicent: Uh, that you’re a good guy who loves his baby brother?

Viserys: …

Viserys: I’m gonna have to do the right thing here, aren’t I?

Alicent:

Viserys: Dammit.

. . . . .

Viserys, to Addam: Deliver this to my lil’ bro to Dwarfstone.

Addam: Yes, my king. K bye.

Rhaenyra: Dwarfstone? Wtf is going on?

Viserys: I’m sending help to your uncle Daemon.

Rhaenyra: *doesn’t believe it* Uncle Daemon asked for help?

Viserys: Nah, he’d die if I wouldn’t so…

Rhaenyra: *squeaks in Dolores Madrigal*

Viserys: Am I wrong for doing it?

Rhaenyra: Does it even matter what I think?

Viserys: Daemon is giving me enough headaches without you adding to it. Why do you keep adding to it?

Rhaenyra: If this is about that old bat-

Viserys: I’m sorry, Rhae-Rhae. I’m just trying to help you, that’s it. What wrong with that?

Rhaenyra: Because you have a new favorite! And it’s Alicent’s baby boy. I mean, I know you’ve always wanted a son and now you have one. What does that make me now, daddy?

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae, wtf are you talking about?

Rhaenyra: Daddy, everyone knows it. Even Jason Lannister knows it.

Viserys: Baby, we marry for advantage, to gain more allies, and strengthen our army. You already know this, right? I was promised to your mommy.

Rhaenyra: I know, wtf. I’ve heard this story a million times.

Viserys: I loved your mommy. She made me who I am today. Look, I’m not replacing you. That never even came to me. I just want to see you happy.

Rhaenyra: You think finding a hubby for myself would do that?

Viserys: I’m saying a family.

Rhaenyra: I had a family. But you know…*shrugs*

Viserys: Wtf do you want me to do?

Rhaenyra: Daddy, please. If it was for advantage, you would’ve married Laena Velaryon.

Viserys: …

Viserys: *lowkey impressed* *thoughts* Omfg she speaks the truth.

Viserys: I mean…you’re not wrong.

Viserys: But seriously, you have get married. I don’t care who it is, as long as you’re happy.

Rhaenyra: Thanks, daddy.

Viserys: Rhae-Rhae. I promise you, in your mommy’s memory, you will always be my favorite.

. . . . .

Corlys: We need to keep fighting. We can’t give up now.

Laenor: It’s pointless, dad. When we’re not attacking, they come out. But when we attack, they hide.

Vaemond: Because they know they’d be barbequed if they do. The caves are their bunker, they ain’t comin’ out unless they have to.

Laenor: Then we give them a reason to come out of the bunker. We’ll need a volunteer to go in and wave a surrender flag for show.

Corlys: Ok, but who?

Vaemond: Yeah, who? Who actually has balls to go there and say ‘it’s over, you win’, huh?

Laenor: Idk, Daemon?

Vaemond: He’s the fucking reason we’re losing, wtf!

Laenor: Oh, I’m sorry, wtf have you done while we were all working our asses off to win? Complain all the fucking time!

Corlys: That’s enough. We don’t have time for this shit.

Vaemond: Wtf! We obviously need help. But y’all are too proud to ask for it.

Corlys, to Vaemond: Lil’ bro, I swear to god stop being such a drama queen!

Daemon: *arrives late* I’m here! Sorry I’m late. Air traffic. What I miss?

Vaemond: If we don’t do anything, we’ll all die here.

Addam: *surprise entrance* Prince Daemon, I brought you some tea from your big bro, the king. *hands him a letter*

Daemon: *takes and reads the letter*

The Letter: Hey, lil’ bro. I’m sending you help. Look, I know we fight a lot but whatever happens you’re still my lil’ bro and I don’t wanna see you fail. Hope you come home soon.

Daemon: *beats the shit out of Addam*

Laenor: *grabs Daemon* Wtf are you doing?

Daemon, to Addam: Get your fucking ass out of here!

Corlys: Wtf, Daemon?

Laenor: Btw, if we're going to win this, we need someone to-

Daemon:

Daemon, rowing to the Stepstones: *mumbles* Viserys thought I can’t do anything right? Huh, I’ll show him. Imma win this shit right now. I don’t need his fucking help.

Daemon:

Crabfeeder Army: *gets out of the caves* Kill him!

Laenor, on Seasmoke: *burns the crabfeeder army* Dracarys, bitches!

Crabfeeder Army: *gets barbequed*

Velaryon Army: Let’s finish these mofos!

Crabfeeder Archers: Kill them all!

Laenor, on Seasmoke: Did you forget about me? Dracarys!

Crabfeeder Archers: *gets barbequed*

Daemon: *goes after the Crabfeeder and kills him*

Daemon: *coming out of the cave with the Crabfeeder’s upper body* IT’S OVER! WE WON! IN YOUR FACE, VISERYS! I DIDN’T NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I promise I'll upload every episode before the season finale. Please don't hate me.

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys i targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #otto hightower #hobart hightower #joselyn redwyne #ceira lannister #lynesse hightower #larys strong #harwin strong #lyonel strong #tyland lannister #jason lannister #crispy coleslaw #criston cole #corlys velaryon #laenor velaryon #vaemond velaryon #seasmoke #house targaryen #hotd incorrect quotes

[nevaehdavis5675]

Allison Pendle/Allison Angel General Headcanons?

Sure ^^

1: Allison Met Thomas ( Tom) When they were in college

2: She Loves Flowers Tom gives her flowers every on her birthday or there anniversary

3: her father didn't aprove at Tom at first but he likes the guy

4: she's a way better voice actress then Susie Campbell

5: She wanted to have kids so she gave birth to Grace ( My oc)

6: She loves Tom so much

7: She is the only one that Joey is friendly to

8: she was a daddy's girl but she grew .out of it when she married tom

9: She sings so beautifully

10: She met buddy lewek ( Daniel)

11: she loves iced tea

12: Is a way better alice angel then susie ( yes I have beef with susie don't ask)

13: She and Tom always cuddle ( used to)

14: is a good wife and mother

15: loves Christmas

16: She is the most kindest lady on earth

17: Is willing to help anyone including Tom

18: isn't a chocolate fan but will eat it

19: she is straight

20: Her full name is Allison Rose lily Pendle Connor ( Tom calls her Ali

#bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #allison pendle #allison angel #Tom #thomas connor

[jddryder]

blog recs and questions! spicy edition ❤️‍🔥

the blog(s) you often stalk

the blog(s) you'd wish to meet in person

the blog(s) you don't always agree with but love anyway

three blogs you'd take with you to a mysterious deserted island (choose wisely)

your mean girls squad (gender neutral)

current tumblr crush (blog you reblog the most from)

current number of blocked blogs

the tag(s) you track

hi ! thanks for the ask 💕

the blog(s) you often stalk: @eddiediaaz (wish i could frame so many of their gifsets ! i'm always in awe of alie's talent), @mistmarauder (absolute sweetheart, such a joy to talk with, such a warm, friendly and fun presence), @engagedmadney (where i get my daily dose of madney), @evcndiaz (big brain and heart energy, so many insightful thoughts/commentaries)

the blog(s) you'd wish to meet in person: @evanbukley 💖

the blog(s) you don't always agree with but love anyway: i'm pretty in phase with my mutuals so i don't have any urls popping in my mind right now. though of course, i'm strongly side-eying @mistmarauder and her anti tea prapaganda 🤨

three blogs you'd take with you to a mysterious deserted island (choose wisely) no idea tbh

your mean girls squad (gender neutral): i guess it would be my partner in crime @evanbukley 💕

current tumblr crush (blog you reblog the most from) @evcndiaz @engagedmadney @maxbegone @eddiediaaz

current number of blocked blogs: soooooooo many. i've been besieged by hundred of bots at the start of the week

the tag(s) you track: 911lonestaredit, 911lsedit, 911 lone star, grace ryder, judd ryder, tedlassoedit, omitbedit, dwedit ...

#ask #anonymous

[optimistpax]

[ID: a reply from @pluralsword​​ saying “Please. Books are fine too. Doesn’t have to be transformers but hopefully something queer and/or robots. Arcee, Anode, Lug. If you want to, Greenlight, Lander, Aileron, Windblade, Nautica, Chromia, Velocity, Guage, and Sideswipe (the younger, you know the one that came out of a Trypticon hot spot) but the first three we named are the ones we’d be most curious about/most wanting to read something that appeals to them (we’re plural) end ID]

hmm I’m not sure I’m familiar with the Trypticon Sideswipe and I have to admit I don’t remember Lancer from idw2 (I started writing recs for her before realizing I’d confused her with Javelin), but I’m happy to give the rest of them a go! I love oversharing about book recommendations haha

gonna throw them under the cut bc there are SO MANY

For Arcee

I think Arcee would vibe with the Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo! The Worldbuilding and intrigue and characters are all SO interesting. I don’t have words for how very cool it is.

For You

hmmmm I think this rec might depend a little more on which version(s) of Arcee are your favourite and why, but I think Witch Boy by Molly Knox Ostertag is always a solid choice to recommend! It’s a really fun fantasy/mystery that is very affirming and gender

For Anode

I will take any excuse to recommend Upright Women Wanted by Sarah Gailey. It’s a post-apoc western about queer librarians. It’s a fun time. Very good read for an adventurous soul.

For You

If you’re a fan of Anode, I think you’ll like The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson! I don’t want to say too much bc I don’t want to spoil it, but I absolutely stayed up till 3am to finish this book in one sitting bc I couldn’t put it down. Really cool concept, excellent execution and commentary, fantastic characters. GOOD BOOK.

For Lug

Ok so this isn’t technically queer or have robots, but it’s still firmly cemented in scifi and I can’t NOT recommend for the geologist character a book I recommended to a real life geologist who is dear to me. So! For Lug I recommend Red Shirts by John Scalzi. It’s a GREAT time tbh. It’s a parody of shows like star trek where the “red shirt” character becomes genre aware and attempts to escape his (and his friends) fate. It’s very well written and I was especially tickled by the three epilogues (first person, second person, and third person) each following a different character with loose ends.... and written in the pov of the epilogue title.

For You

Hmmmmmm if I hadn’t already recommended across a field of starlight I would recommend that one here... but since I have, I will instead recommend Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune. Also queer, also deals with death, and I cried through the entire thing (in a good way.)

For Greenlight

I think she’d like The Tea Dragon Society by K. O’neill. Very chill comics exploring different kinds of dragons has gotta be a little like xenobiology, right???

For You

Rock and Riot by Chelsea Furedi! I feel like some parallels could be found between some of the relationships in Rock and Riot and Arcee and Greenlight, and since Greenlight is rarely found without her partner it makes for good reading for a fan of her!

For Aileron

Ok so again this isn’t a queer/robot book, but oh MAN is it gorgeous. Human Target by Tom King and Greg Smallwood is a noir style mystery with gorgeous art and really excellent lettering. Aileron (in idw2 at least) to me feels like the kind of person that would vibe with a good mystery book (with all the mystery in her FICTION where it BELONGS instead of in her LIFE where it does NOT)

For You

Hmm Perhaps try Rockstar and Softboy by Sina Grace! Aileron seems like the level headed one of this group of wreckers and Softboy is a little like that as well... but even when your friends cause problems with their good intentions at the end of the day you still gotta love em.

For Nautica

I can’t not recommend The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells for Nautica. It’s got weird science and weird alien planets and murder mysteries, what’s not to love for a nerd like her?

For You

Hmmmm if you’re a fan of Nautica you may like The Last Human by Zack Jordan. It’s a lot of fun, but the second half of the book does get a little weird in a “you’ll love it or you’ll hate it” sort of way. But honestly with some books that’s part of the fun! Especially when you share them with friends :)

For Chromia

Another book that does not hit the “queer or robots” requirement, but Blacksad by Juan Diaz Canales and Juanjo Guarnido absolutely seems like a book that Chromia would like. A noir comic about anthropomorphic animals with absolutely stunning art. The details in the backgrounds and scenery are especially well thought out, you could look at them and find new things for days, which is smth I think she’d appreciate.

For You

Magic for Liars by Sarah Gailey. This book just about single-handedly got me out of a uhhhhhh seven year reading slump so I cannot actually tell you if it was good but I can tell you I had an absolute blast reading it. Very noir detective mystery... but modern day with a fantastical twist. I could see where the mystery was going, but honestly that just made me enjoy it more because I love seeing the inner workings of how fiction is set up so yes. Fun Book. Chromia fans check it out.

For Velocity

I think that Velocity would like Boys Run the Riot by Keito Gaku! The characters are high school students struggling to break into fashion after being told repeatedly that it’s not something they can achieve. I think that she could relate to that with her own struggle with getting into the medical field.

For You

hmm I think fans of Velocity would also Like Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Another story about an underdog with stunning visuals and snappy writing.

For Guage

I think Guage would really like Sleepless Domain by Mary Cagle! It’s a cute magical girl comic about finding your footing and your people after the rug has been pulled out from under you.

For You

Deviating from the goal topics one more time bc I can’t not recommend Talking to Strangers: a Memoir of My Escape from a Cult by Marianne Boucher for fans of Guage. It’s what it says on the tin: a memoir of escaping a cult.

#I think this is like... twice the number of books to the image limit for posts so unfortunately no cover images #you will just have to trust me that most of them have very cool covers #long post #book recs #comic recs #optimist.txt #ask games #ask game

[justmybookthots]

Love, Theoretically

4.25/5 stars

Technically, this is a reread. I was feeling low because of another book yesterday, and I really wanted a good pick-me-up before I spiralled into a slump. And given how much I freaking loved this book the first time (I read it a week or so after it first got published?), I was hoping it would do the trick. 

It did. I just finished rereading the entire thing a few hours ago. Oh my gosh. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is by the same woman who wrote my romcom archnemesis: Love Hypothesis. How do you go from writing… Adam Driver (Carlton? Ca… Something) to fucking Jack? (And yes, Ali needs to consider giving her male leads less basic white boy names. That said, Levi’s name wasn’t so basic. His personality though…)

Jack is my favourite Hazelwood hero by FAR. Of course, Hazelwood technically only has two distinguishable heroes, since Adam and Levi are just differently named versions of each other. My point is, Jack is… wonderful. He’s blonde—I’m partial to fair-haired male characters, okay? He’s calm. Humorous. Communicative. Understanding. Emotionally intelligent. Like, look at this: 

And to sum it up:

He wasn’t perfect, obviously, but I… My brain was short-circuiting at so many of his scenes, his actions, his easy banter, his sense of humour. There’s one scene where Elsie thinks they’re about to have sex, but she’s clearly too tired for it, and he just plays along:

I loved their banter, omg. Some parts, not so much, but most of it was hilarious. It isn’t only with Elsie; Jack’s exchanges with his grandmother were gold, too. Millicent Smith made me crack up in that singular scene when they had tea—I think she’s a phenomenal character.  It’s amusing and admirable how Jack could respond to and handle her eccentricities without batting an eyelid. 

I really wanted to give this a five stars. I really did. I still do. I mean, the first half of the book before Jack and Elsie got together is fantastic, and is possibly the highlight of the entire story. Hazelwood nailed the tension between both leads. Furthermore, I love the throughline of the story: Elsie suffers from chronic People Pleaser Disorder where she constantly plays different versions of herself to—you guessed it—please different people. She does this incessantly, not just when she fake-dates but in many aspects of her life. As someone who dislikes the fake dating trope, it’s nice to see that this trope is being tied to an ongoing character development arc. (It also helps that she isn’t fake-dating Jack. I’m so, so tired of fake-dating between two romantic leads.) Jack is privy to all this through observation, and he encourages her constantly to be nothing more than herself. 

This theme has, to be honest, been giving me some food for thought. I’m about to derail, but I do think women are societally expected (more so than their male counterparts) to be many different things. I don’t want to go too far in depth about it because this isn’t the place, but I remember (this is still going to be a bit out of left field, but this is my reading journal, so I’ll say what I want) reading somewhere that women are likelier to be better at masking autism than men. Simply put, I believe it’s because men can be themselves, whatever that may entail, and not have to apologise for it. It’s why I’m annoyed by male characters like Adam, or just the male “grump” archetype, because men rarely need to be polite. There’s almost no flak for them if they behave in a way that lacks any kind of grace.  

But if a woman behaves the same way, she’s simply put: a bitch.

Anyway. I digress. All I’ll say on this subject is that I really enjoyed the overarching theme regarding Elsie’s character growth. 

However, this is not a perfect book. There are some points that I don’t love:

The smut. This is the biggest issue. Jack is very giving, which is great, and he is BIG on consent, which is also great. I can’t put a finger on why I don’t love how the smut is written though. Whatever it is, it’s a me problem. Ali’s writing style for smut isn’t to my taste. It doesn’t feel very… sexy? The whole scene where Jack and Elsie made out and did something sexual for the first time was really awkward. I am a firm believer that consent CAN be written in an attractive way, but this was not it. 

Twilight is not it. I’m sorry, Elsie.

I do not understand why Jack is so muscular. Big, I get because that's genetic or whatever, but why muscular??? How is a nerd who spends his days in a lab getting that muscle tone? That allusion to him playing basketball in a gym on certain weekends is NOT enough.

The PDA between Jack and Elsie at George’s house near the end of the story made me cringe. Please stop. 

Adam’s cameo. Gag. I read this book to get away from Adam, not return to his presence.

Now. Going back to more things I did love, that I haven’t mentioned yet:

Jack and the article. No, not the one he wrote when he was seventeen. The fucking article he wrote at the end as penance was AMAZING

Elsie running back to him and falling apart and saying that he probably thought they’d broken up forever because of how she’d ignored him after their fight. To which he, very calmly, goes: Nope. Who said we broke up? I was giving you space, just as you asked me for. 

GEORGINA/GEORGE. Zero girl-on-girl hate in this book. I have to give Ali credit where it’s due; there is none of this in any of her books, if I’m not wrong. Instead of having Georgina, who “stole” Elsie’s job, be the stereotypical catty bitch, she turns out to be an amazing character who saves Elsie’s career. I love how the literary landscape of female characters has changed in recent years.

“Manuscript I’d love to finish” being called MILF is something I am claiming for myself. 

Never thought I’d say this two months ago, but I absolutely loved this book. Now my biggest question is: will this be an outlier in Hazelwood’s repertoire, or will she be ever-evolving into something new and better with future books? (Bad Boy of chess, though? Really?)

FINE. I’ll stick around to find out. 

- 16 Aug 2023

#book blog #book review #romance books #love theoretically #ali hazelwood

[the-real-zhora-salome]

Ngl, there aren't that many female singers that I really love, certainly not new ones. - Musical taste varies greatly between person to person, so these may not be your cup of tea but thought I'd share anyway because I am excited to have discovered acts I love after being trapped in the TS bubble for too long: Maggie Rogers, Leon, Aly & Aj, Pheobe Bridgers, Brandie Carlile, Maren Morris, Mickey Guyton, Oh Land, Grace Mitchell, Angel Olson, Karen O, Sharon Von Etten, Winona Oak, and Rahael. And of course I have discovered waaayyy to late Stevie Nicks.

*takes notes*