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–He said “Fuck you.”
–Yeah?
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wolfiec · 1 hour
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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (2023)
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wolfiec · 23 hours
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No Pain, No Gain | Series Masterlist | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader
COMPLETED
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Summary: The personal trainer your roommate Baela recommended to you is rude, condescending but also hot as hell.
Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist  
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Part 1 
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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wolfiec · 3 days
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PEAKY BLINDERS 3.04
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wolfiec · 6 days
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MATT SMITH as DAEMON TARGARYEN House of the Dragon (Official Trailer) | Season 2
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wolfiec · 9 days
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EWAN MITCHELL as Tom Bennett in World on Fire 2.02
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wolfiec · 12 days
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Mary Oliver, from “Hum Hum”, A Thousand Mornings
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wolfiec · 12 days
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could you pretend to be in love? (06/10)
The Connection
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: an unexpected person from the past shows up and there is a family dinner to attend, resulting in disastrous thoughts and difficult decisions.
word count: 8.9k
previous part • series masterlist
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The day of the dinner is slowly approaching.
the chapter is finally here!
sorry it took me so long, if you didn't see my last post go do it and you'll know why👀 but we can put it behind us now and I'm excited to tell you that the next chapter will finally give us that next level we've been waiting for so long!
I really hope it won't take me that long but for now, let's enjoy this new chapter and as always, I'll be very anxious to read your comments🥰
enjoy!
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And you still don't feel completely sure about it. However, despite your doubts and worries, you haven't backed out.
Mostly you think about what you're going to tell Aemond's mother by way of ruining things out of nervousness. Of course he should have already given her information about the relationship, but you're worried that she'll ask you questions and you won't know how to answer.
But that's not the reason she wants to get to know you… is it?
You think she probably just wants to know more about you, your likings, your non likings, your aspirations in life, your dreams, your family and things related to that.
Right?
You just hope so.
You've never done this before, meeting a guy's parents, ever. And you just get more nervous and feel more pressure knowing that Aegon and Helaena will be there too.
As well as you also feel guilty about the fact that they all think that you and Aemond are for real and you're just going to go there and convince them and assure them that you and Aemond are crazy about each other… when it's not true.
Now it's Thursday, tomorrow is dinner and Aemond doesn't seem at all concerned about it, when your thoughts are being completely tormented with it.
Still, you listen attentively to his words as you put away some books in your locker and he's standing next to you, leaning against the lockers, with the Romeo and Juliet book in his hands.
"Why did you make me read this shit? It's too hard to read and I don't like it," he says longingly.
You look away from your books to him and place a small amused smile on your lips at the sight of his face.
"It's like poetry and I don't like poetry, I don't understand it," he says frustrated, "I don't understand any of the weird rhyming they say."
"Well, Shakespeare has a unique way of expressing himself."
"Yeah, but what does he mean by 'My lips, two humble blazons, are ready to seal with a kiss softly'?" he recites reading the phrase with his brows furrowed and you let out a small laugh.
"Shakespeare loved beauty in words, even if it meant complicating things a bit."
"Yeah but why can't he just kiss her and be done with it without saying these weird words that give me cringe?"
"Come on," you give him an incredulous look, "It's romantic. The whole book is romantic with a tragic ending."
"This is definitely not romantic," he says incredulously and shaking his head, "It's weird, boring and makes me want to puke."
You look at him with a pout.
"You're not romantic at all."
"Excuse me?"
He immediately comes to defend himself, staring at you incredulously and completely indignant.
"I can be extremely romantic, thank you very much."
You raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, with a small smile as you see the spark of amusement in his gaze.
"You of all people should know that, you've witnessed it and you're the reason I do it mostly," he adds.
"But that's not… you know," you give him an expectant, knowing look.
"It's still romantic."
"No, it's not," you say with a laugh.
At your playful response, still busy at your locker, you don't notice and Aemond suddenly approaches. He takes your chin with one of his hands gently but firmly enough, causing you to look up at him, catching you off guard.
"What did you just say, my love?" he asks with a mischievous smile and amusement in his gaze, appearing serious and warning.
He brings his face closer to yours with a demanding gaze and your heart begins to pound as you let yourself be carried away by his proximity.
It is clear that he is going to kiss you, what does this mean if not kiss you? So you watch him expectantly and with your face lifted towards him, really looking forward to the sweet contact, your lips inches from his.
But first Aemond looks around briefly, wanting to make sure that some students in the hallway are watching you. When then, you see that he is overlooking a specific spot in the hallway.
You see how there is a slight glint in his eye and then he no longer moves.
You frown slightly, waiting. And before you can say or do anything, Aemond suddenly pulls away.
Confusion overtakes you and he clears his throat by averting his gaze, then smiles softly at you as if he wasn't about to kiss you seconds ago.
"Then I'll be more romantic next time," he says, taking his distance from you, as if trying to minimize the tense moment you've just shared.
Was he going to kiss you or not?
You can't just tell him to kiss you either, that he was going to, since this isn't real but… the change in his behavior confuses you, you don't quite understand what just happened and you don't know what to say.
"I have to go to the field now," he tells you, averting his gaze for a moment before looking at you again, "I'll see you in class, okay?"
"Hum… yeah, yeah, okay," you nod, still confused.
He gives you one last smile and before leaving, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze with his hand, another gesture that catches you off guard. Without a kiss on your forehead or cheek, as he usually does, he walks away.
You stand in the hallway, watching him go, with a mix of emotions you can't help but feel confused, uncertain and... disappointed.
Questions swirl around in your mind, but you don't have any answers. So shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you close your locker door and head to your next class.
Eventually you continue to run into him and he acts normal, as usual. He sits next to you in class, does the teacher's requested activities with you, and walks with you through the halls to the next class.
And everything is…normal, in a way.
Although he's still being kind and attentive, he's not being as affectionate as usual.
You can see how he's distracted, deep in thought from time to time, something is on his mind, something that you have no idea what it is but that keeps you alert, confused and makes you feel completely different from previous days.
You sense that the dynamic between you today has changed somehow, leaving you feeling bewildered.
And you don't know why.
Although it's not until break time that you find yourself sitting at a table alone, still feeling this awkwardness, when Alysanne comes in and drops the big bombshell on you that makes all the sense in the world.
"Why are you here eating so casually when I just saw your boyfriend catching up with his other ex-girlfriend?"
You raise your gaze to her almost instantly, with a mixture of surprise and confusion, a knot forming in your stomach as the weight of her words settle on your shoulders.
"What?"
"Yeah, Floris Baratheon," she says, then looks at you slightly confused, "How did you not know this?"
"What?" you repeat, not understanding.
"Floris Baratheon," she repeats to you slowly and clearly, "Dark hair, not as tall and certainly not as bitchy as Alys but still she falls into the category of girls who are superficial and think they are better than other girls," she explains to you.
Confusion lingers in your gaze, for despite the explanation, you still don't remember anything about a girl named Floris Baratheon at school.
"You really don't know who she is? Aemond didn't tell you about her?" asks Alysanne incredulously and your face answers her questions, "She transferred schools for a semester and just returned this morning. She and Aemond weren't actually dating but they had a thing when he and Alys broke up for like the twelfth time."
Your mind whirls as you process the information.
Honestly you had no idea about Floris' existence back in your invisibility days at school. Therefore, you also had no idea that she and Aemond had ever had any kind of relationship.
However… there is something you have an idea of at the moment.
This is why Aemond acted weird with you this morning, because of her. He must have seen her in the hallway and his demeanor changed completely.
"I-I didn't know that," you admit in a soft, low voice, trying to hide the uneasiness that is starting to creep up on you.
"Well, it's weird that Aemond didn't tell you anything, especially since I saw the two of them so comfortable and happy talking," she lets you know, "And I'm not telling you this with any malice or to make you feel bad, it's just that I think you should know, even though I thought you already knew."
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling a surge of emotions wash over you that you can't quite explain, nor can you avoid.
You're not sure what to think or how to react to this, but one thing is for sure; things between you and Aemond are likely to get complicated.
But what can you really do?
You and he aren't really dating. What's the point of asking him about it when it's really none of your business? Besides if he didn't talk to you about it before, when he saw her, it must be for this very reason.
You have no right here, even if you feel this.
"Do you want to get out of here?" asks you Alysanne later, noticing your face and probably everything that is invading your mind.
And soon enough, she takes you to the rooftop of the school, outdoors, where you just sit and watch the sky and listen to her while she smokes a cigarette, talking to you about Cregan being around her lately.
But as much as you want to give her your full attention and corroborate what she is telling you, you can't.
The rest of the classes are without Aemond, since you don't share them with him, and when the school day ends, still not knowing exactly whether to wait for him to drive you home or not, you head for the exit of the building, deep in thought.
"Hey."
You feel a hand grab your shoulder and when you turn your head without stopping moving forward, you find Aemond standing next to you.
"Hi," you reply softly, turning your gaze back to the front.
And he at your side gives you an attentive, curious and slightly confused look.
"Are you okay? I didn't see you at break," he says softly, "I also texted you and you didn't respond."
"Oh," your mind goes blank for a moment, "I was with Alysanne on the roof. She was talking to me about some things."
"Hmm," he nods, still watching you between a mixture of attentive and curious.
Then the two of you say nothing more, with the silence loud between the two of you and that tension emanating from your body, when you speak again.
"Are you going to drive me home today?" you decide to ask him, watching him, with that hesitation in your tone of voice and look.
And he frowns, watching you blankly.
"I always drive you."
You are about to speak but a third voice does it for you, stopping your steps and also Aemond's.
"Aem!"
The two turn their heads and there she is, Floris Baratheon.
Black hair, brown eyes, slender and absolutely beautiful features. She approaches with a smile, showing off her perfect, aligned teeth.
Everything about her screams money, as well as elegance, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her impeccable designer clothes and accessories.
And the moment she catches both your attention and Aemond's, you notice how he beside you tenses slightly.
"Hey," she gives him a charming smile and her full attention, placing herself in front of him, "The guys are going to get something to eat, I was just told. Do you want to join us? We can take off in your car and catch up some more."
"Hum…" he is silent for a moment, shooting you a nervous glance, scratching the back of his neck.
And throwing you another glance, this finally catches Floris' attention and she notices your presence as well.
"Oh… hi," she smiles softly at you.
Despite your nerves and how uncomfortable you're starting to feel, you force yourself to smile as kindly and genuinely as possible.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," she tells you in an exaggeratedly kind tone of voice.
And this too finally gets Aemond to react.
"Yeah, right, that's my fault," he says trying to act nonchalant and completely relaxed, "Floris, this is Y/N, m-my girlfriend."
You watch as she parts her lips and her surprise is evident as she looks at Aemond and then turns her attention back to you.
"I-I didn't find the moment to tell you."
You instantly observe Aemond, with a look that even you can't explain and he suddenly can't control his nervous gestures anymore, giving a wary glance to you and then to Floris.
"Oh."
She turns her gaze back to you and though she tries to hide her surprise, the strength of her smile seems a bit forced as she holds out her hand to you.
"I'm Floris, nice to meet you."
And within everything you're feeling right now, like awkwardness and feeling out of place, you still shake your hand with hers.
"Nice to meet you."
Tension is in the air and Aemond looks hesitant for a moment. And you continue to feel like an intruder between them, getting in between the interaction of two people sharing a history you don't fully know about.
When Aemond speaks again.
"Floris is my…
He tries to tell you, but his words are left floating in the air.
Suddenly you see how he struggles and searches his mind for a way to introduce you to the girl he had a thing with in the past, only according to him, you don't know that, when certainly Alysanne already took care of it.
And just like you, you too feel Floris' anticipation, waiting for him to introduce her.
"An old friend," he finally says.
Floris arches an eyebrow slightly at Aemond's introduction, her lips curving into a smile that seems to contain more than just politeness.
"Yes, that," she punctuates, with a knowing look that to you does not go unnoticed, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were free for this afternoon. Although if you want you can bring your girlfriend with us," she proposes.
Aemond takes a moment to respond, averting his gaze as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
And that's when you decide to speak.
"You can go with them," you tell him and that immediately gets his attention and hers, "I can just take the bus or something and I'll see you later," you say to start walking away from both of them.
His attention and slight surprise is most visible on his face, but before you can move too far away, he grabs your hand and advances towards you.
"What? No" he immediately inquires, "No, I'll take you home."
The determination in his tone of voice and in his gaze makes you feel a little more comforted, but still, you can't shake this uneasiness in you about Floris' presence.
And that's when Aemond turns to her again without letting go of your hand.
"Sorry Floris, another time," he tells her in his firmer, slightly strained voice.
And she nods with a sympathetic look, though you can't help but sense there's something else behind her expression.
"Of course, I understand, it'll be for next time then," she says, before turning to you, "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."
And finally she is the first to walk away.
You exchange a look you can't quite describe with Aemond and feel the awkwardness and seriousness linger between the two of you, even as the two of you leave the building and make your way to his car.
And once in the passenger seat and with Aemond driving through the city streets, you find yourself fiddling with your fingers in your lap, still feeling the awkwardness in the air.
You don't understand exactly what's got you right now but you can't even see Aemond out of the corner of your eye, so you keep your gaze focused straight ahead and on the side where the window is.
"Are you okay?"
You suddenly hear his voice speak softly to you, feeling his gaze on you from time to time and you squirm a little in your seat before you speak, swallowing hard.
"Yeah, all good," you say, trying to sound convincing.
He exhales deeply, noticing your distance again.
"I'm sorry if the Floris thing made you uncomfortable. S-she…" he sighs, "She's truly a childhood friend. We had something in the past but it was very brief and it's no longer relevant."
And although there is nothing wrong with his words, you still can't help but feel a slight knot in your stomach. And you act completely unconcerned.
"I understand," you say simply, in a soft voice and still without looking at him.
But this is not convincing to Aemond, who licks his lips and can't help but worry about the situation.
"I mean it."
"Aemond," you call him softly, finally looking at him, "I understand, I really do," you assure him, "I also meant it when I said you should go eat with her and your friends. You seemed very uncomfortable and there was no problem from me."
He nods slowly, but still looks a little uneasy.
"I just didn't expect I was going to see her again."
"Are you ready?"
And you don't know if that's worse.
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Oh God, are you?
"I don't know," you answer honestly, nervously, looking at your outfit.
For this occasion you chose a pair of pants, ankle boots and a white tank top with a black jacket over it. You don't look overdressed but decent for the occasion, along with your makeup and hairstyle.
"Hey, easy," he says softly, placing both hands on your shoulders, "It's going to be okay. Besides we won't be alone, Aegon and Hel will be with us."
"Yeah but that's not what I'm worried about," you clarify, playing with your fingers, "What if I ruin everything?" you ask watching him fearfully, "What if everyone realizes that we're not really dating because of me?"
"I'll take care of that, don't worry," he assures you, with his soft gaze, "You just have to corroborate everything I say and stick to the main story. Other than that, my mother will just ask you questions about you to get to know you better."
"Are you sure?" you ask, not entirely convinced.
"Very," he affirms you, conveying calmness and assurance in his voice.
"You've done this before?" you can't help but ask, still with some hesitation, "I mean…" you lick your lips, nervous, "You've brought a girl before to dinner with your family?"
He is silent for a moment, as if considering how to answer, as the implication is clear because that's not the real question, you know that too.
Rather it is: have you ever brought Alys to dinner with your family before?
"Yes," he finally admits in a murmur, sincerely, "Yes, I have."
You stare at him silently, without the two of you saying anything else, only to look away and nod, again trying to look unconcerned, trying to calm your nerves further.
"My mother never liked her," he says later, again attracting your attention, "You know, Alys."
Again, you say nothing for a few moments, just lick your lips and nod.
"I understand."
Aemond lets out a heavy breath and takes a step towards you, lowering one of his hands to take one of yours, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of yours, this also immediately catching your attention, as you see him looking at you for a moment thoughtfully.
"Are you ready now?" he asks you softly, raising his gaze to you, "We can stay here a while longer if you want."
"No," you reply immediately, "No, I don't want to make everyone wait for us," you release a long breath, calming your nerves, "I'm ready now."
He places a small comforting smile on his lips.
"You'll do fine, trust me," he assures you then moves closer to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, just like at school.
His action definitely catches you off guard and you look at him slightly surprised, but Aemond doesn't give it that much importance, as if it was already a natural and routine thing between both of you, like a gesture of encouragement, to then take you by the hand together with him to the entrance of his house.
His house is nice and big, with a beautiful garden, so when you open the door, you see a huge and cozy living room with the dining room visible in the background, where you can make out Aegon's figure and his short silver hair.
Aemond closes the door behind you and you briefly look around, seeing the decorations of the elegant house, such as mirrors, flowers vases and also family photos.
Mostly, you see pictures of young children, which you recognize as Helaena, Aemond, Aegon and his other brother, Daeron.
There are also photos of what you assume is their mother and also a man, who you assume is the father, with Aemond and his siblings as children. But it strikes you that none of the four are smiling, just the mom a little.
There are more current pictures, only of Aemond, Helaena and Aegon smiling next to their mother, with no trace of their father and Daeron.
"He's my younger brother," he takes a single photo of a boy, standing next to you and handing it to you, "Daeron."
And just as you imagined, he's a boy of about fifteen with striking blue eyes and short silver hair, smiling at the camera with a bright face and looking in the background like he's standing in a lake at Honeyholt.
"Helaena was right," you say with a small smile, still inspecting the photo, "He really is the handsomest of the three of you."
"That's not true," he tells you immediately, taking the photo out of your hands and putting it back in its place with a quick, automatic gesture, making you laugh.
"What's up, bro?"
You both hear Aegon's voice and turn around, with the silver-haired man already walking towards you with a bottle of beer in his hand and a huge grin on his face.
"Are you drinking already?" Aemond inquires, "Mom's going to kill you."
"Oh, you know how persuasive I can be," he tells him without wiping off his smile, "Besides, I've already set the table," he points to the dining room, "It's dinner, bro."
"Careful," he warns you but he deliberately ignores him, heading in your direction.
"Y/N!" he exclaims your name smiling, coming over to embrace you, "Welcome to our home."
"Hi Aegon," you smile back at him.
He envelops you in a hug and you reciprocate cordially, instantly the strong smell of beer reaching your nostrils.
"Want one?" he points to the beer in his hand as he pulls away from you.
"I don't think so," Aemond answers him, again intertwining his hand with yours, "Where's mom?"
"In the kitchen with Hel" he points out, "Tell them to hurry, I'm starving," he says in a tone of voice that catches your attention.
But Aemond pulls you forward, starting to leave him behind, with a serious and disapproving look at his brother's attitude.
"It's the beer," he explains to you quietly, "I hate it when he drinks at home. I just hope it doesn't get unbearable later."
"Why?" you ask him, curious.
He shakes his head.
"Aegon is… complicated."
He doesn't say anything else and neither do you, mostly because he leads you toward the kitchen, but curiosity still lingers on that subject.
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in a supportive gesture that comforts you as you both cross the threshold into the kitchen, where instantly the smell of delicious freshly baked food hits your nostrils.
And the first thing you notice is a silver hair along with a darker one, who you assume must be Aemond's mother.
And immediately your nerves again explode and you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest.
"Hey, Y/N!"
A friendly voice says to you, being Helaena, who is wiping her hands with a clean dish towel and wearing a beautiful blue dress, instantly heading towards you with open arms.
"Hi Hel," you smile back happily, hugging her enthusiastically.
"Oh I'm so happy you're in our home," she says excitedly and warmly without letting go of you, "We've prepared turkey, I hope you like it," she says as she pulls away from you.
"Oh I'm sure it will," you nod at her with a sincere smile, feeling welcomed by the warmth of her welcome.
"Mom."
Aemond's voice momentarily pulls you out of your conversation with Helaena and you turn your head to meet the gaze of Alicent, Aemond's mother.
Instantly you try to control your nerves and keep your composure, remembering his comforting words.
And when Alicent's gaze meets yours, a warm smile forms on his lips, which makes you feel less nervous and conveys a sense of calm. Although the nervousness lingers, you feel a little more secure with his kindness.
Aemond places a comforting hand on your shoulder and steps forward to introduce you.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he points to you with his small smile, "And Y/N, this is my mom, Alicent."
She is a very beautiful woman.
It's the first thing that comes to your mind, noting the dimples in her cheeks and that warm look she has, not being intimidating at all and being rather kind.
Besides the dark green dress she wears is completely beautiful, as well as her accessories. Everything about her radiates elegance and poise.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," she says, turning to you, "Gosh, I was so excited to meet you. It's so nice of you to come."
And without expecting it, just like Helaena, she too greets you with a hug, taking you completely off guard, causing you to let out a nervous little laugh as you hug her back.
"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hightower," you say softly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth.
"Please call me Alicent," she says as she pulls away from you.
Before all this you asked Aemond what to call her, just for the heck of it and to feel less nervous and he told you 'Hightower', the last name of her father.
So you assume that Aemond's father is not someone who gets mentioned much around here. In the family photos he is present in only one picture. And Aemond doesn't talk about him either.
And he watches with a small smile at the interaction between you and his mother, feeling relieved that things are going well so far.
"Please go and take your seats. Dinner will be served soon," she says to Aemond and you.
"Do you need help?" he asks her.
"I'm already doing it myself," Hel says, "Don't worry, little brother."
"Can you help me with your brother, please," Alicent tells him, with a look of slight concern.
"Of course," he assures her in a gentle tone.
Soon the two of you return to the dining room, the two of you take a seat together with Aegon and Aemond tries to tell him not to overdo it with his drinks, that you are here to enjoy a nice dinner with his family.
But he just makes nonchalant gestures and tells him that everything is fine, to continue drinking, looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for dinner.
Then you don't know how much time passes exactly but Alicent returns very soon along with Helaena with the food, placing the dishes in the center of the table, indicating that all this will start soon.
Aemond places his hand on top of yours underneath the table, giving you every supportive gesture possible, reassuring you at every turn that he can that all will be fine.
Every brush of his fingers against yours conveys reassurance and comfort.
You feel a slight relief as you feel his touch, reminding you that you are not alone at this moment and his presence gives you strength to face any nervousness that may arise during dinner.
And with the food finally served, the silverware begins to clink against the plate glass as everyone begins to enjoy the delicious dinner.
Aemond, like the supposed boyfriend in love with you, is totally attentive to you, asking if you're served this or that, wanting to make sure you're well received and comfortable to make this more bearable.
And you thank him all the way, feeling his mother's gaze on both of you from time to time, without wiping away her warm smile.
"Did you like the food, dears?" she asks generally.
"Oh yes," Helaena says with a look of total complicity, delighting in the food.
"It's delicious, Mom," Aemond tells her later.
"Totally," you corraborate politely, nodding in her direction.
Alicent smiles in satisfaction and then turns her attention to Aegon, who hasn't said anything since everyone started eating.
"How about you, son?" she asks him softly.
"It's fine," he says curtly, taking a huge swig from his bottle of beer.
This definitely gets your attention but Alicent as well as Aemond and Helaena decide not to give it enough attention, as if they're already used to it and don't want to ruin the moment by his behavior.
But you do notice the disapproval in each of their looks, especially the disappointment in Alicent. Though she almost instantly turns her attention away from Aegon to Aemond and you.
"So, how long have you two been dating exactly?" she asks curiously and without losing the kindness in her gaze and tone.
"A month," Aemond replies without hesitation at your side, resting one of his arms on the back of your chair.
And Alicent shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.
"And I still can't believe he kept you hidden from me, Y/N."
You smile in his direction, trying not to let your nerves give you away, as Aemond again interjects, with a soft look.
"We didn't want to rush things."
"I told him not to take too long to tell you," Helaena says as well, pointing at Aemond as she watches her mother.
"But he didn't tell me anything, Aegon did," Alicent says in amusement.
"Oh come on, I was going to tell you anyway," Aemond tries to justify himself.
"Oh you were going to?" Hel questions him.
"You want to turn her against me."
"I'm just telling the truth, little brother."
This causes Alicent to laugh softly and his gaze meets yours, where you laugh softly too, as the fight between Aemond and Hel continues. But this causes you to begin to feel comfortable and more at ease with the whole situation.
The only thing at the table that is completely serious is Aegon, who continues to concentrate on his drink and the food in front of him.
His reserved attitude contrasts with the energy you have with Aemond, his mother and sister, but they don't really give him much attention and everyone continues to enjoy the delicious food and create topics of conversation.
"So…" Alicent begins to speak, watching you with her warm gaze, "What are your college plans, sweetie?"
Oh my God.
Okay, it's happening.
You think as you slowly start to panic, but quickly get yourself under control, settling back in your seat.
"You're all graduating soon," she points to her kids with a small smile.
And you're about to speak but someone else does first.
"Which wouldn't be the case if Aegon hadn't repeated year… twice," Hel says condescendingly, pouring herself more food in a casual gesture.
"Helaena," Alicent reprimands her in a soft tone.
"Don't start with me."
Aegon's voice finally makes itself heard in a long time, speaking in a cold, curt tone, not even observing his sister, focused on his food.
"Just saying," Helaena says also with a pout in his direction.
"Then speak for yourself. You're a year behind too."
"Ugh," she sighs, "You talk like you don't know what happened."
"That's enough," Alicent says calmly, watching you both with a look of silent warning.
The atmosphere tenses slightly and all is silent for a moment, as you notice how Aemond next to you only runs a hand over his chin and you only hear the clink of silverware clattering against glass plates.
Alicent then turns his gaze to you and there you decide to speak, hoping to restore comfort to the atmosphere.
"Well, actually, I've applied to Oldtown University," you say with a soft smile, controlling your nerves, "I'm planning on getting into law school."
Surprise flashes across Alicent's face, as you briefly feel Aemond watching you beside you.
"Oh, wow," she nods slowly, her expression one of amazement, "What a coincidence, that's the same college Aemond wants to go to."
Aemond nods with a small smile, completely keeping up appearances.
"Yes," he confirms, "In fact it's perfect for us to go to the same place after graduation."
And just to show more affection with you, he places his hand and yours intertwined on top of the table, watching you with that 'love' he seeks to convey in these moments in front of his mother.
And Alicent watches you both with her soft smile, but is still intrigued by you.
"And why that choice? Law is something you always wanted to study?" she asks you, with genuine interest in her voice.
You try not to focus too much on the way Aemond's thumb begins to gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, which at the same time also reassures you.
And you nod in Alicent's direction.
"Yes, it's something I've always been interested in. It's a very heavy degree with very dense material, but it's very interesting and it's long been what I've decided for myself."
Alicent nods in your direction, listening to you intently and looking completely interested.
"And I guess at Oldtown it's a great opportunity to want to study law."
"Oh yes," you say eagerly, "Oldtown has one of the best faculties with very capable professors and all the material you need. It's certainly a great opportunity."
"But I also think that getting to study at such an in-demand university with few places in that major can be difficult," she tells you corroborating in conversation.
"Yeah, that's the bad thing, but…" you shrug, "I'm hopeful."
You watch subtly beside you, focusing for a moment on Aemond, speaking with that complicit tone, as of course he doesn't forget that the reason you're here doing this is precisely because of Oldtown.
He knows that all too well too.
"And your parents are supportive of your decision to study law?"
Slight surprise passes across your face, definitely not expecting that question, but you quickly manage to soften your face, though you still remain silent for a moment.
You try to hide any trace of bewilderment as you search for a suitable answer. And it is Alicent's same warm gaze that encourages you to respond.
"Uh… yes, my father is just as excited as I am about this possible opportunity," you reply with a small smile, being honest, "He has always supported me in all my decisions."
You respond without saying anything else and with sincerity, not mentioning anything about your mother.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he nods at you and smiles warmly, "And what about your mother, dear?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
Inevitably your whole body tenses at that moment. And an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you think again about how to respond.
You honestly didn't expect the conversation to get to this point, about how even after talking only about your father, you're still being asked about your mother.
And for a moment, you don't know what to say or what to do, but you finally decide to react after everything falls into an awkward silence and they begin to look at you slightly confused by your lack of response.
Until you decide to be honest.
"Well, I-I…" you bite your lips, "I don't actually live with her," you admit in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "And I haven't seen her since I was six."
Slight concern crosses Alicent's face, instantly watching you in regret.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says sincerely, embarrassed to have caused you discomfort, "I had no idea. I apologize."
You're about to tell her it's okay, that it's no problem because she didn't know, that it's no big deal, but you don't even get a chance to speak when sudden laughter is heard throughout the dining room.
The tension in the air dissipates in that instant as everyone turns to the source of the laughter, Aegon.
He is visibly drunk, but still conscious enough to know what is going on around him and that is what is alarming.
Alicent, Helaena and Aegon's faces fill with bewilderment and disapproval, except for yours, as you watch Aegon in confusion, not quite understanding what is going on.
"Aegon," Alicent calls to him now truly annoyed, watching him seriously and reproachfully.
But Aegon barely manages to contain his laughter as he apologizes between laughs.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he mutters, his tone full of amusement and insolence.
Then Aemond at your side watches him completely serious, his jaw clenched and his gaze dark, holding back his fury at his reaction after you shared a very intimate and sensitive piece of information to you.
And Aegon laughs at it because of his own stupidity? Of course he's not going to allow that.
"What's so funny?" he inquires, expectant and about to explode.
Aegon straightens in his chair, a smirk on his face.
"Oh, nothing," he replies mockingly, "I just think she and you are perfect for each other. Apparently, we're not the only ones who have parental issues, are we?"
He asks watching his mother and sister, which makes Alicent feel even more tense, watching you worried and apologetic about the little show her eldest son is putting on.
"That's enough," she reprimands him firmly.
But Aegon seems determined to move on and turns to you again with a gesture of camaraderie, ignoring his mother's words and his brother's attitude.
"Don't worry, Y/N," he tells you with a crooked smile, "You can talk about it here and no one will judge you. All of us would understand, wouldn't we? We who wouldn't know about the subject of fucking neglectful parents with their kids."
Aemond's gaze becomes even more intense and his jaw tighter, watching his brother as if he could throw daggers at him with his eye.
"Shut the fuck up," he orders him, controlling himself as much as he can at that moment.
"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him worriedly.
"Or what?" Aegon challenges him, "She better know what she's getting herself into once and for all. With our fucking family traumatized by her own father who never cared about us."
"I said shut the fuck up," Aemond demands of him rising from his chair, causing everyone at the table to become alarmed.
Alicent rises at about the same time he does, and Helaena rises next, alert and worried, while you and Aegon continue to sit, he still unconcerned and you… because you don't even know how to feel about it.
The tension is too much, this is all unexpected and it's all happening too fast. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Aegon continues to talk and drink more.
"I'm just saying you two are the perfect match," he continues, his tone increasingly amused, "She doesn't have a mom and you don't have a dad, bro. Awesome, isn't it?"
Then it all happens too fast.
Aemond advances towards Aegon with a furious determination on his face that puts everyone at the table on alert, reaches towards him and grabs him hard by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to get up.
"Aemond!"
Alicent and Helaena immediately intervene, rushing towards them to stop them, but Aegon doesn't even have time to react before he finds himself on his feet, with Aemond holding him tightly.
"Stop it, Aemond!" exclaims Alicent, his tone full of authority and concern.
You finally rise from your seat as well, alert and worried, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, feeling your pulse racing.
Then Aegon reacts as well, his face transforming into one of rage, placing his hands on top of his brother's.
"Get your fucking hands off me," he manages to say with difficulty.
"I told you to shut the fuck up or didn't I?"
"Oh and now you're going to hit me? Huh?" he asks, punching him in the chest with his hands, "You're going to hit me? And for what? For telling the truth?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you huh!? You fucking cunt," Aemond hits him back in the chest.
"Let go of me, you fucking asshole!"
"That's enough!" Alicent intervenes again, her voice firm and full of authority, "Aemond, let go right now!" she orders, furious, implying that she won't repeat it a fourth time.
The tension in the room seems to increase with each passing moment, as you hold your breath, watching Aemond worriedly, as does Helaena.
Aemond hesitates for a moment, glaring at his brother with determination, until he finally releases him with a tug, pulling away from him still watching him in warning and utter annoyance.
Aegon straightens, rubbing his neck as he glares at his brother resentfully.
"I don't need this shit. Enjoy your fucking dinner," he says grumpily, grabbing his bottle of beer and heading for the stairs, not giving anyone a glance.
At least your pulse starts to calm down when you see how it's finally all over, but you still watch Aemond worriedly.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alicent turns to you sorrowfully, averting your gaze to her, "What a shame."
"No, no, don't worry…
You start to say in a soft tone when Aemond's serious but definitely kinder voice makes itself heard in your direction.
"I'll wait outside."
The three of you watch him silently and watch as with nonchalant gestures he takes his car keys from his front pocket and with his face still contained in fury, heads out of the house.
With a lump in your throat, you turn to Alicent and Helaena, feeling the weight of tension still hanging in the air even so.
"Thank you so much for dinner. It was nice to meet you," you say to Alicent, trying to sound as calm, gentle and kind as possible.
Alicent smiles sadly back at you, still with her saddened and troubled face.
"It was lovely to meet you and have you come, honey," she tells you sincerely, "Still I'm so sorry. It wasn't my plan for dinner to end like this."
"I totally understand, don't worry," you say with a small smile, "We can always do it again."
You say and immediately regret it, but manage to soften your face in time.
This was supposed to be the only time you would do this, but you feel you owe it to her, to Alicent, as she prepared a delicious dinner with great care. She seemed so excited and happy about everything, especially about you coming that it is such a shame that this happened.
More than anything else that's why you say so.
"Of course," she nods to you, kindly and cordially.
You bid her goodbye with a gentle hug, then embrace Helaena as well, conveying your silent support through the simple gesture.
"If you need to talk, we can do it at school," she murmurs in your ear before releasing you.
"Sure," you promise, returning the hug gratefully.
You take one last look at both of them and head out of the house. And once outside, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you face the cool night air.
And there you see him, in the middle of the night silence and at the edge of the street, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette with an almost absent gesture, looking thoughtful but also still a little upset about what happened.
You watch as he lets the smoke go between his parted lips and you, letting out a long breath, head towards him.
When he looks back at you, you too just watch him silently and he wordlessly opens the driver's door with a soft squeak and gets in the car, so you follow after him, feeling the weight of silence between you.
You too slide into the passenger seat and close the door, where soon the two of you find yourselves moving through the quiet streets of the city, the music on the radio playing at a low volume in the background.
And that's the only sound between you, the music, and even then it's a little uncomfortable.
You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to find the right words as the tension lingers, but you don't even know what to say. What are you supposed to say when that happened?
But finally it's Aemond who breaks the silence.
"I hope you enjoyed the show," he murmurs, not taking his eye off the road.
You are momentarily speechless, not knowing what to say at that, not even finding the right words in your mind. Then you let out a low sigh, understanding how he must be feeling.
You mean… you went to meet his mother, it was a family dinner, everything was going well and to suddenly have it all end like that with very personal confessions that you had no idea about… it must be completely frustrating for him that you witnessed that.
"Are you okay?" you ask him in a low, soft tone, watching him intently, concerned and understanding.
He lets out a long breath, pursing his lips as he considers your answer, saying nothing for a moment. But when he finally does, he says it in a voice laden with weariness, regret and seriousness.
"I'm not even upset that Aegon said all that… he… he's right," he says resentfully, "I'm upset that you had to witness it."
The weight of his words falls on you, sensing Aemond's seriousness and frustration in his words. You watch his serious and weary face, the fury he is still holding back.
And for a moment, you look like you're not going to say anything, but after biting your lips, you finally speak.
"You don't have to worry about me," you tell him in a soft voice, "After all, he was right about what he said about my mother too," you add, seeking to offer some comfort, "I don't even remember her, you know? And honestly… it doesn't affect me nor do I care."
If your words caused anything in him, he doesn't show it, as he continues with his eye focused on the road.
But inside, he can't help but feel a little surprised and amazed at your ability to accept those circumstances with such calm and determination compared to him.
And finally he nods, understanding the truth of your words.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
You watch him with a soft and… slightly thoughtful gaze, feeling the tension between the two of you finally begin to fade, resulting in a warm and pleasant atmosphere for the two of you, as usual.
And unexpectedly for him, you take his free hand gently and intertwine your fingers with his, offering a small gesture of support amidst still the frustration he is feeling.
"I don't," you confess softly.
You wait anxiously, moving your foot repeatedly up and down, glancing from time to time at your surroundings and also at the screen of your phone, wanting to keep the time very much in mind.
You don't say anything else and neither does he, hoping you can put this behind you. And all along the way, he keeps gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
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The gentle morning breeze caresses your face, with the sun painting golden hues in the morning sky and listening in the background to the birds singing, but also all the movement of the soccer team training early at this hour from the field.
Everything seems to be calm, except for your racing heartbeat, where you avoid biting your nails and simply bite your lips in a nervous gesture, as well as the inside of your cheek.
Then you finally see Aemond approaching with his backpack on his shoulder and his face soft.
"Hey," he says softly, taking a seat in front of you, taking off his backpack and watching you carefully, "What's up? Is everything okay?"
Out of nerves, your whole body tenses and you avoid stuttering as you speak, stirring in your seat.
"Yeah, yeah, just…" you lower your gaze, playing with your fingers, "I just want to talk to you about something."
Aemond nods, giving you his full attention.
"Well? What is it?" he asks you warmly, not wanting to put pressure on you as he notices all the tension that is invading you at the moment.
But he honestly starts to worry seeing you that way.
And you swallow hard, with your gaze lowered, feeling the need to just let it out and nothing more, having that urge so you don't keep torturing yourself with your destructive thoughts.
"I was thinking that… maybe…" you let out a sigh, "Maybe we should stop this," you mutter, your voice barely a whisper.
And Aemond only watches you more intently, beginning to look alert, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"Stop what?"
You bite the inside of your cheek hard, completely flustered.
"Our fake relationship," you reply cautiously, watching him intently and with some concern.
"What?" he immediately queries you, "I-I don't-I don't understand."
"I think we've both accomplished what we wanted to… oh well, almost everything," you tell him knowingly, "But we've already put on a good show in front of the whole school, Alys is upset enough, and the cheating thing is behind us. We should stop."
You explain but in the middle of all your explanation, Aemond only frowns more, listening to you completely attentive, watching you surprised and incredulous.
"And the trip to Dragonstone?" he inquires you, with a serious and alert look, "That trip is key, it would be great for both of us to go together, as a couple."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is pounding and your nerves are getting the better of you.
"Yes, I know, but… do we really need to keep pretending?" you ask, "You've already saved your reputation, remember?"
Aemond shakes his head firmly, his jaw tense with mounting frustration.
"It's still not enough," he tells you seriously, "At least wait until after the trip."
"Aemond, I don't see why we should wait until then," you mutter, unsure, "We can finish everything now."
Aemond's expression hardens, his jaw tense with frustration as he tries to understand you.
"Y/N, the trip is in the contract," he tells you firmly, "And we agreed to finish everything until graduation."
You exhale, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation that you didn't expect was going to get this bad the moment you decided to do this.
"I know, but I don't see the point of this anymore."
He becomes more confused, shaking his head, looking at you confused and now completely frustrated.
"What-what's wrong?" he asks you in a soft but urgent voice, attentive, "Did something happen?" he asks you concerned and interested, "Did something happen that I still don't know about?"
Oh God.
Fear grips you as you struggle to keep your composure and not let your nerves get the better of you.
"Or is this because of the dinner thing? And because of Alys' pranks?" he asks you worriedly, "If it's that, tell me. I-I'll find a way to fix it. You won't have to go to dinner at my house again and I'm sure I can talk to Alys."
"No, no… I-I…" you sigh, "It's not that-
He shrugs, looking at you confused and frustrated.
"Then what is it?"
Your heart pounds as you struggle to keep your composure in front of him.
Your words get stuck in your throat, enduring Aemond's still serious, worried and frustrated look on you, waiting for an explanation. But the feeling of panic grows in your chest and you resign yourself completely.
"Nothing, forget it," you say in a whisper, lowering your gaze.
You stand up and gather your things, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, just as Aemond sighs and looks more frustrated.
"Y/N," he calls your name in a tired gesture.
But you don't heed him, just focus on getting away from him,
"Y/N, please stop," he says to you in a soft but urgent voice.
But you don't stop, you can't.
How could you do it and how could you tell him that the real reason you decided to bring this up to your fake boyfriend is because maybe you are actually falling in love with him and the feeling is getting more and more intense, and you can't help it?
general taglist:
You just can't.
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@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys
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wolfiec · 13 days
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Unchained Melody (Masterlist)
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Summary: It had been one year, seven months and fifteen days since you had left Arrow House, since you had left your husband and four month old son behind. Both you and Tommy were blissfully married in the joys of parenthood until a heavy cloud of hopelessness and withdrawal settled above you, pulling you under a suffocating blanket of depression and loneliness until you ran, fleeing from it all. A week turned into a month and then a year, each day making it harder for you to go back to the two people in your life you loved more than anything the world possessed. That was until one spring day at the local market you'd visit every Sunday to get a glimpse of your son when your past collided with you and your husband's unexpected presence forced you back to Arrow house, back into a home you no longer recognised, and a governess hired by Tommy hell-bent on you not getting in the way of her desire to be the lady of the house and replacing you as the new, Mrs Shelby.
Warnings: Language, angst, post-partum depression, fluff, mutual longing, smut
Sneak Peak
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five coming soon!
Gif credit: The incredibly talented and wonderful Ria @alicent-targaryen. Go check out her gorgeous creations. Our fics wouldn't be the same without her talent!
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wolfiec · 19 days
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader)
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a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)
Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.
Part.1
- He's a beast.
Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.
- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom
Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.
- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 
She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 
- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.
- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 
Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 
The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 
The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 
- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?
You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.
- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.
A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.
You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 
Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.
- Wear black tomorrow.
Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.
*** Perhaps you did die. 
Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.
You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 
The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 
This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 
Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.
You awake screaming.
***
In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 
Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 
As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.
 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.
It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 
- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.
- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 
- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 
The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 
Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 
Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 
- Shall we, my Lady? 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 
He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.
It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.
The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.
- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?
Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 
- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 
- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?
Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 
- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.
Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.
They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 
- Train with me.
The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 
Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 
- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.
To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 
- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.
- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.
- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.
- You're trying to get under my skin.
Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.
- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.
He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.
- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...
- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.
Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.
- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.
The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 
His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 
So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 
Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 
The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 
Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.
You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 
He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?
The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.
You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 
Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 
He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 
Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.
Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 
The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 
- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.
- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.
This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.
Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 
Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 
- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.
The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.
- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 
That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 
The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.
The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 
Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 
His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.
And then his hips roll upwards. 
A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 
Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.
Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 
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wolfiec · 21 days
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Zitkala-Sa, first Native American woman to write an opera 1898
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wolfiec · 24 days
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EWAN MITCHELL as Tom Bennett in World on Fire 1.03
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Marie Yvonne Laur - Delicious Milk (ca. 1900s)
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wolfiec · 24 days
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Courted By the Dragon - Masterlist
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Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.
Chapter 1 - Spring
Chapter 2 - A Court of Sharks and Dances
Chapter 3 - Secret Admirer
Chapter 4 - Solitude
Chapter 5 - Cyvasse
Chapter 6 - Total Annihilation
Chapter 7 - Crumbs
Chapter 8 - Dance of the Dragon
Chapter 9 - Favour
Chapter 10- Gallantry and Bravery
Chapter 11 - Remedy
Chapter 12 - Coming Soon
Aesthetic 1
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wolfiec · 25 days
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amazing grace.
for t. shelby a prelude to 'the gift of silence. (how sweet the sound)'
“My, what a dear sight: Thomas Shelby, Peaky Blinder and founder of Shelby Brothers Limited, fucking a whore on the same desk he signs business deals on.”
Your languid body, draped with the tender silks of your night slip, leaned against the door frame. The strong oak plowed against your supple shoulder and tugged at the pink lace pooling in your clavicle. A slim cigarette drooped like a petal from your rosy fingertips which rested near your naked thigh.
You watched, unamused, as Thomas repeatedly rutted into the thing, his eyes staring directly into yours. Despite the dimness of it all--of the sex-stained chamber and the way the dying lamps made the room appear dipped in oil--his sharp, diamond eyes still cut through the haze.
You took a quaint draw of your cigarette and fixed your gaze on the girl, tilting your head at the way she convulsed and thawed into the mahogany. You pushed yourself off the frame and let yourself in, crossing the threshold into sin.
Your bare feet made slow steps across the dry panels and stopped in front of her. You used your hand free of the cigarette to pet the crown of her head, smoothing down her jostled, earthy locks.
You shushed her softly, quietly, though it came from a dwelling deep within your heart. Your fingers tightened at her roots and pulled her head up so you could see her disheveled face. "You're a pretty one," you stated, observing the way her nose sloped perfectly into her cupid's bow. Her shaky, glossy eyes could barely keep your gaze as they kept rolling to the back of her head. Obscene moans and small cries escaped her bobbing throat.
You took another puff from your smoke. "I know you think you've caught a big fish, but really--Thomas Shelby isn't any less a minnow than every other man in this Godless city when it comes to pretty lasses like you." Your voice was befitting of the night--quiet and something of the tide.
You traced her tear-stained cheek with your thumb. "Do you know why you're here, bent over his work desk in the first place, love? It's because the last pretty thing that wandered into Mr. Shelby's trousers put all our heads on the line--right after her own, pretty little blonde one."
Immediately after the last sour-coated words left your lips, the girl burst into a million ecstacies, and Thomas gave her one last soundless pound before leaving her empty and hollow on the nippy wood.
You let go of her head and it dropped to the desk--as if she craved its cold companionship.
Your eyes found Thomas's.
"So this is who you are now? A whore fucker is no more than a whore, himself, y'know."
"Who I fuck"--he zipped up his knickers and took a swig of Irish whiskey left out from the morning on his desk--"concerns no one. Least of all you."
You slowly snubbed your cigarette out on his expensive, lacquered desk. "Don't get cute," you said, pulling out a couple extra shillings than girls like Lizzie are used to seeing after a long day. You stretched at her unbuttoned collar and pressed them into her bra. "On you go, love. Don't come back.” You said the last part mainly to yourself, but it didn't go unnoticed in the weight of the room. You loathed her life for her.
A minute sigh, heavy with something dire and secretive, escaped Thomas's nose as the lax girl collected her stray garments from off the floor and flitted out of the room. He never looked at her, though she seemed to burn for it.
Thomas leaned the small of his back against the edges of his desk, staring off at something distant in that vacant way he always does.
"It seems as though everybody in the city respects Thomas Shelby except yourself,” you said.
You never called him Tommy, and you never would. Nicknames are for kin and lovers, and he was just pristine, clean-cut Thomas.
He didn't respond. He didn't move save a subtle tensing of the muscle in his jaw. You made your way next to him, propping yourself up on the desk. Your legs dangled in the air as the hem of your slip rode up your thighs. He passed his whiskey glass over to you without sparing you even a glance, and you took a sizable swig.
Since it was evident he wouldn't be doing much of the talking, you started up.
"Men are weak. They get dumb in the head when anything with a cunt passes by. A primal urge--makes you animals." You looked at the wooden wall and imagined you were seeing the same thing he was as he stared right through it. A moment of silence--a hidden breath--hitched and made the room swell--the wood crack.
"I loved Grace, too. In my own way," you continued softly, matter-of-factly. You handed the glass back to him. He could tell you've had a little too much already. "I saw something in her that I had been chasing my entire life. It made me admire her."
"And what's that," his voice croaked, raspy from the silence that grew familiar to his throat's walls--like a tumor.
"She had love." Slowly, as if unfolding like a picture, you began to see the invisible landscape Thomas saw in the grain of the walls. "It made her strong. Gave her something to fight for, and then later something to lose."
This, Thomas realized, was the most you've confided to him in years. You looked so vulnerable, so lush in your unguarded, slightly slouched form. He saw glimpses of your Irish youth in your tired yet glistening eyes.
You were never a predictable woman.
A silence spanned and stretched at the air in the room. The more it did, the hotter you got.
"I've never had that, Thomas. And you should be grateful you did for at least a little while, because even if you fail at your multiple hands and end up rotting in the canal, you would have died a man who knew love. So stop slouching and moping and fucking sorry whores and get back on your feet."
He didn't like the way curses sounded coming from your mouth--from that pretty little voice. Your usual mellow demeanor had faltered for the first time in front of him.
You didn't wait for him to hand you the glass this time, as you swiped it out of his grasp and downed the last ounce of amber fire. "You're Thomas fucking Shelby. But right now you're just pathetic."
At this, his hand clasped around your slender neck, almost simultaneously with his lips as they crashed into yours. He repositioned himself between your legs so his knee could pry and tease at them. His callused hand was strong and warm as it crept from your throat to that sweet nook between the back of your neck and the bend of your jaw. His fingers cupped your cheek and raked through your freshly washed hair. Your slip had collected in a wrinkle of crests at your hips and you subconsciously waited for your exposed thighs to be seared with his radiating palms. But he stopped himself. He pulled away. And yet again, there was that vacant distance.
"Don't tell me about not knowing love. I loved Grace the way you've always loved me." His voice was so low you had to furrow your brows to make out every word--every syllable--so that you could ensure you weren't going crazy. "I see it. Every day. I fuckin' feel it every time you look at the back of my neck. You love me. And you're filthy for it."
For an impossible measure of time, you saw him for something he wasn't.
His thumb swiped past your chilled earlobe, bringing your forehead to his. "She sang these songs. And I heard in all of them your stories."
You wanted to shoot him. And kiss him. And kill him. Hell, you just wanted him.
"But I could never have you. No, not when you put on such a tough act with a face like that and make a mess of yourself and everything else--messes I needed to clean up and protect you from." With this, he gave your face a little shake with his hand still embedded in your locks.
It was impossibly gentle and genuine and moronic. It was simply just impossible.
His whiskey-licked breath stung with every lap he took at your salted wounds. You both stayed like this until the ticking of the clock became jilted and painful.
You looked into his wayward eyes one final time, swallowing a heavy sigh before slowly slipping off the table, past his burning body and out the door.
It was as good a goodbye as any.
All humans have ever needed was love, so why is it that when it's finally within the palms of our hands--no matter how much we cherish it, kindle its erratic flame, breathe life into it--it always seems to betray us?
x.
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wolfiec · 1 month
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oh god shut up. you didn't even know the damn kid.
"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe, and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality." — James Baldwin
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