lady-phasma - Tumblr blog

[lady-phasma]

We need to collectively stop apologizing for the feral beasts we become when we see men with slutty waists and bad attitudes. I’m sorry.

[lady-phasma]

[lady-phasma]

Okay I need some opinions! I do a monthly blog theme change and as I'm currently on Helaena, who do we think should come next?

Why did I start monthly themes? Why do I hate myself!?

After HOTD characters are done I'll likely change fandom and theme that way!

[lady-phasma]

I have been wondering about Dune 2 scene with Feyd being seduced by Lady Margot. In the book Feyd is already physically attracted to Margot, fom my understanding without her having to use her powers on his mind...so in the movie I was wondering if he was already physically attracted to her, but she used her powers to make sure he wasn't going to hurt her? Your thoughts? Also kinda felt like the Reverend Mother just basically sent Margot into a potential dangerous situation with Feyd full knowing that she could be harmed!! I love your thoughts on this pairing!!

So in the book Feyd is very taken with her immediately and is a cocky asshole and I love him for it. He's also a little besotted. I can't find the quote but, essentially, Feyd asks her for her hand in marriage before the arena fight in front of her husband. She declines and it's actually a slightly humorous scene.

In the film... well, I may have an unpopular opinion but the way I see it, he's probably attracted to anyone as pretty as she is. I'm not saying that he can only be viewed this way, but I do think that is part of why Margot was selected. She is beautiful and the Reverend Mother knows that Feyd could be easily manipulated.

but she used her powers to make sure he wasn't going to hurt her?

I really dig this part of your question! I honestly hadn't thought about it exactly like that, but now that you mention it I think that could definitely be part of it. Fans disagree on how far into this scene Feyd was under the influence of the Voice. Personally, I think he was under her control for 90% of it. Until he put his hand in the box. Perhaps after that it was consensual, but we can't know because it isn't shown in the film.

I think his ability to try and fight the Voice is evident when he has this moment of frustration and rage: "Do not mock me woman!" Additionally, when he wakes from his hypnosis briefly outside her room.

I love an opportunity to make a new gif, thank you for that.

There are really two parts to your question: would Feyd have "hurt" Lady Margot at all and, if so, did the Reverend Mother put her in harm's way?

My headcanon isn't that he wouldn’t harm her in any way outside of a sexual situation. (That may have been exactly what you meant.) I also don’t feel that he would have assaulted her. But this is something we have to consider: was Margot consenting? Think of this as her job. Yes, she went to Giedi Prime with the plan to become pregnant but plenty of people perform sex acts as part of their job and there is a lot of debate as to whether or not that is consensual. Additionally, I fall on the side of the argument that Feyd, himself, was not fully consenting. We can't know the type of sex they engaged in, but I don't believe he was able to make that decision entirely for himself in that moment.

Had Margot not used the Voice on him, I fully believe he would not have been submissive, but he would have been consenting. Of course, in fanfiction writing we can write that scene however we want. However, based solely on what is presented on screen there is no evidence that either of them truly consented.

Was the Reverend Mother complicit in this? Completely. All of the Bene Gesserit would be. Would Feyd have, potentially, been less compliant without the Voice? I believe so. He is "sexually vulnerable," according to their assessment but they never explain what that means. There is an additional clue that I have yet to make my mind up about: "he longs to be hurt." I'm not sure where I stand on the interpretation of this, but my initial reaction is that the Bene Gesserit (Margot included) never intended him to consent outright. If I apply that interpretation to the final outcome then, perhaps, neither the Reverend Mother nor Margot ever felt Margot was in any danger at all.

That may not be as concrete an answer as you wanted, but I think that there are many ways to interpret "hurt" and it seems to me the mostly likely hurt for any parties involved in this scenario isn't physical but emotional. Neither of them is emotionally stable based on this interaction so they both have the capacity to inflict damage on the other.

[lady-phasma]

I read a post that stated that Marie Fenring suffered under the hands and manipulation of her mother, Lady Margot, the same way Feyd suffered? Was lady Margot a really horrible mother?

Sorry this took me so long. I was really trying to give it some thought (and I've been really busy).

Honestly, I haven't read the newer Dune books. I googled Marie and found that she appeared in Paul of Dune (written by Frank Herbert's son, 2008). The Dune wiki entry for her isn't long, but it's interesting.

If I understood correctly, she was killed at age 6. I really did want to give my best to this answer but I've only read Dune and Messiah.

I would say, yes, she was a horrible mother insofar as she allowed her six year old to become an assassin. At least that's what I got from the wiki. I wish I had a better answer, but I also haven't see the post you mentioned.

[lady-phasma]

Oh god the shades have returned

Keeping Up With the Targaryens (social media au) - EP 11

AN: This series truly has my heart. As always all the love to my lovely lovely Lana ( @zaldritzosrose ) for being such an amazing co creator. And again my thanks goes to @lady-phasma @alexagirlie @anjelicawrites for the help crafting this idea!

Series Masterlist here! Age list here!

Summary: RenFaire day 3

CW: Language, if Aegon has no simps YN is dead, likewise if YN has no simps Aegon no longer exists, Hel getting some loving, Cregan and Hel being cute, use of YN, mostly fluffy, making fun of Jace's posture

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x YN, Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark, Sara Snow x Jacaerys Velaryon

Previous chapter

[lady-phasma]

It’s fine because I’m actually using a secret technique called writing it in my head and nowhere else.

[lady-phasma]

Divine Violence: Part One

Summary: Prophecy was a dangerous thing. “The one akin to you, will be your downfall.” Daemon could only think of one. His nephew, Aemond. He had not even considered another. Viserra. His niece. While unlike him in physical skill and prowess, she was more than Daemon’s mirror in temperament. The twins, married in the ways of Valyria, and a force that Daemon soon would reckon with.

TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Viserra Targaryen), mentions of character deaths, canon-typical incest/twincest, mentions of child death.

Words: 1,805

Valyrian translations at the bottom of the post.

And AGAIN, thank you @lady-phasma for being my lovely beta!

Death and Prophecy

It had been a simple task, in Daemon’s eyes. Harrenhal’s castellan, unlike his House’s name, had not been a strong opponent. It was well known that the castle was weak from the sky, and Daemon had been quick to take advantage. His dragon, Caraxes, had proven enough of a fearsome sight to earn the Rogue Prince the surrender he sought.

With that surrender, as it often was in war, came prisoners. He had heard tell of the bastard witch, Alys Rivers, though he had paid no heed to the claims of her power. Until one of her prophetic ramblings concerned him.

“The one akin to you will be your downfall.” The witch had said, in one of the few moments Daemon had allowed her in his presence. He had scoffed at those words. Prophecy was nonsense, he believed. Why should he now live his life based on the cryptic words of a bastard?

But the more he thought about it, the more the words she spoke concerned him. Akin to him, his downfall. Was the witch telling him of his death? Not that death was something he feared, but the thought that such a thing was fated made his blood run like ice.

His mind spun as he tried to understand her words because all his questions to her fell to silence, a stubborn choice on Alys’ part. The witch was no ally of his. The words she spoke were chosen carefully, made to confuse him. Daemon would receive no more answers from Alys. So, it was his task alone to understand her prophecy and only one in his life came to mind. 

Aemond.

His nephew, aged only nineteen, was a strong warrior even if it pained Daemon to admit it. It was because of this that the younger prince was so often compared to his elder. However, Daemon could not bring himself to truly see Aemond as a threat great enough to cause his end.

As he would soon learn, witches and prophecy were not to be trusted blindly. Alys was many things, and intelligent was one of them. Ambitious was another. Daemon was not her key to power, but his demise would be. She had left her words cryptic to force the hand of fate.

Because Daemon, in his hubris, had not considered another who fit the prophecy: Viserra, his niece and Aemond’s elder twin. While she was nowhere as skilled as Daemon physically, she was more than his mirror in temperament.

It was this that Alys had seen. The twins, married by the ways of Old Valyria, and the force that would see an end to Daemon Targaryen.

Lucerys was dead. Dead by Aemond’s hand.

That was the news that had reached them as they awaited Aemond’s return. Viserra knew he sought vengeance, and she never begrudged him that. Losing an eye was not an event from which one simply moved on, because she had not, just as Aemond had not. The death of Rhaenyra’s son would only push them further into civil war.

“Shall we forgo the admonishments? For we all know they will make no change to what has been done.”  Aemond’s fingers tightened around Viserra’s, a contrast to the calm way he spoke.

Aemond had reacted as Viserra had expected to the ire of their mother. Alicent had been either sad or angry, Viserra could no longer tell. Otto had refused to even speak to Aemond and Alicent could not look at her son. Viserra had said nothing. She had only held his hand, thumb stroking his rough palm as their mother and grandsire berated him. 

Now, as the chamber emptied, Aemond kept his eye trained solely on the stone floor before him. He knew Viserra’s questions would come and come they did. He could handle the rest of the family’s disappointment, but not hers.

“What were you thinking, idaña?” Viserra asked, her voice feeling far too loud for the now empty room. She did not sound as angry as Aemond had expected her to be, and he felt himself relax just a little.

Her question was simple, but when it came to an answer, Aemond had none to give. He felt no guilt, though he was not proud of what he had done. He knew he would not change his choices. Her voice echoed in his ears like she was miles away. It had felt as if he had been walking through a fog the moment he had landed outside the city. Viserra was slowly clearing that away simply with her presence, as she always did. As his wife, as his twin, she had the ability to ease his pains without even realising it. When he did not answer her again, she sighed, resigning herself to what she had known the moment she heard the news.

“What is done, is done. But the Blacks will not allow this to go unpunished.”

For weeks now, the entirety of their family had been on edge. News of Lucerys’ death had not only reached the people of King’s Landing, if not beyond, but it had surely reached Rhaenyra as well. And the morbid anticipation of retaliation kept the family in a state of paranoia. Vengeance was a common practice for Targaryens and their family more than any.

Yet, time passed, and nothing came. No threats, no violence. And slowly, the Keep returned to focus on the impending war, forgetting that the actions of one would have consequences for all.

Finally, those consequences came in the dead of night. The scream that tore from Helaena’s chambers would haunt the family forever. The bloodied form of Prince Jaehaerys was a sight that none of them would unsee.

A son for a son.  

Viserra had remained in Helaena’s chambers, comforting her older sister as best she could. Between her and their mother, Helaena had slowly returned to some semblance of calm.

Where Aemond was impetuous, Viserra was restrained. She wanted vengeance, but she knew better than to act on impulse. Time is what they needed. Time and information. Though time could be had, information was something that seemed to evade them. It was clear that the young prince’s murder was an act of retaliation for the death of Lucerys, there was no doubt in that. But the question was, who sent the order?

It was this question that had become the focus of Aegon’s attention. While Viserra comforted Helaena, Aegon had searched for the assassins responsible. While it had been a hard task, word came that one had been found. All they had to go on, was Helaena’s one moment of clarity – there had been two men who entered her chambers, one large and one small.

Now, one of those men sat chained in the cells beneath the Keep.

Viserra’s quick steps brought her to Aegon’s chambers, forgoing politeness as she stormed inside. Her brother sat before Larys Strong, his Master of Whispers, and both men looked at the younger princess in shock. They hurriedly halted their conversation, though she had heard just enough. They had found the men who did this.

“You found them?” Viserra asked, ignoring the look Larys gave her.

She had never been fond of the man, having compared him to a snake or a rat, on numerous occasions. However, she appreciated his assistance in securing the assassin, she supposed. Aegon smiled.

“Yes, hāedar, we have found one.” Aegon held her gaze as if knowing her next request.

“He is being held in the Black Cells.”

Viserra said nothing more. Aegon knew her well enough to know what she wanted, and he also knew better than to stop her. With a nod, she left, leaving a confused Larys to question their King.

The cells were not somewhere Viserra ventured often, but it was where she needed to be now. Just like the rest of her family, she wanted answers. She was sure both her brothers would soon pay this creature the same visit if they had not already. She wanted to have him to herself before they broke him. The halls she now walked down were dark, despite the torches that lined the walls. She wanted this done, and quickly.

A guard stood vigil at the cell door, acknowledging her only with a nod as he unlocked the door.

“Careful, princess” Was all the man said as she passed him.

Viserra’s eyes were quick to adjust to the darkness around her, soon finding the outline of a small, weasel-like man chained to the wall. Two sullen eyes found hers and the way he stared made her sick.

“They sent a princess?” the prisoner sneered, clearly taking offence at Viserra’s visit.

But she ignored his comment. To get what she was here for, she could not allow him to crawl beneath her skin. This man had murdered her nephew and destroyed the already fragile mind of her sister. To Viserra, he was nothing but a problem to solve.

“Would you rather I sent for my brothers?” she asked, the vaguest of threats in her tone.

The man before her scoffed but did not speak out of turn again.

“I have only questions and if you were a smart man, you would answer.”

Viserra knew, physically, that this man saw no threat in her. But maybe, that would be where he would slip. She would now have to choose her questions wisely.

Her blood boiled as she left the cells. Her stomach churning at the venom that had poured from that man’s tongue. A vile, vicious little man, she thought as she flew through the halls, but she had something, at least. He had refused to answer her questions openly, but one thing he had said had stuck in her mind. And the revelation only made her stomach churn more.

In a lapse of judgement, the man, who she now knew referred to himself as Cheese, had uttered a phrase she had only heard one man in her life say.

“Dragons can kill, lēkianna. They kill dragons and much more,”  Daemon had said, meaning to reassure her as he prepared to leave for the war in the Stepstones.

Now those words rung in her head, meaning something entirely different. Why had Cheese repeated those words? Only Daemon had ever uttered those words as far as she knew.

Dragons can kill…they kill dragons and much more.

It had to be. Nothing else would explain it. Daemon had sent the order.

The flames raged before Alys. Images swam through her mind’s eye. Silver hair, pools of blood, pain, revenge and rage. Wheels of fate were in motion and soon even she would be powerless to stop them.

An eye for an eye. A son for a son. The House of the Dragon will come undone. 

idaña - twin

hāedar - little sister

lēkianna - niece

As always, feedback is appreciated, but don't be mean for the sake of it!

[lady-phasma]

🔥 But also I love how you create plot! It's hot but I love the story too!

Divine Violence: Part Two

Summary: Prophecy was a dangerous thing. “The one akin to you, will be your downfall.” Daemon could only think of one. His nephew, Aemond. He had not even considered another. Viserra. His niece. While unlike him in physical skill and prowess, she was more than Daemon’s mirror in temperament. The twins, married in the ways of Valyria, and a force that Daemon soon would reckon with.

TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Viserra Targaryen), mentions of character deaths, canon-typical incest/twincest, mentions of child death, descriptions of sex (not full smut).

Words: 1,769

Valyrian translations at the bottom of the post.

And AGAIN, thank you @legitalicat for being my lovely beta!

Sex and Vengeance

She felt sick. Stomach twisting into knots over and over. Jaehaerys dying was one thing, but to know Daemon had been the one behind the act was another. Viserra could not bear to tell Aegon herself, sending word through Ser Criston and Larys Strong instead. What she felt was nothing compared to what Aegon would feel, she knew that, but she could not bring herself to see the emotions when they raged through him.

Aemond, however, knew something was wrong the moment she entered their chambers.

“Ābrazyrys?” Aemond asked, the moment she shut the door, just one word enough to convey his concern.

He was a man of few words, in even Viserra, but he was perceptive. From the way her brow remained furrowed, and her hands clenched and relaxed. Aemond knew she had been down to the cells, something he had not hesitated to berate Aegon for allowing. Not that Aemond believed she would be unsafe, but he knew whatever she heard would shake her to her core.

When she did not answer, he walked over, setting down his book with little ceremony. His focus now was Viserra, hands on her arms to keep her in front of him.

“Tell me.”

Only then did she look at him, concern evident in the way he stared and the thin set of his lips. But it was as though she could not form words. Nothing would be enough to convey what she felt.

“Daemon.” Was all she could manage. But it was enough.

Aemond could piece together the rest and Viserra could feel the subtle tightening of his grip as he held back his own anger. His rage could wait. Revenge would be had, one way or another. But he had to focus on her now.

“It was Daemon…” She repeated, as if finally coming to terms with the situation.

Aemond remained silent, words were not what Viserra needed right now. He knew her as well as himself, like she was an extension of his own body and soul. He led her gently to the couch by the fire, where he had been reading when she entered. Silently, he sat down and coaxed her into his lap.

He could almost hear her mind whirring, processing everything that had happened. Not only today, but in the last few weeks. Lucerys, dead. Jaehaerys, dead. Helaena catatonic and Aegon sick with rage. Their mother and grandsire doing the best to hold the family together. Her only solace was Aemond now, the only one who could keep her sane.

His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer and urging her to curl her body into his. She was quick to relent, her head buried in his neck as she finally let herself process it all. Tears soaked the fabric of his shirt, but Aemond cared little. Viserra needed it. He needed it, his own eye stinging with tears he still would not shed. His hands firm as he rubbed up and down her back, slowly but surely calming the heaving of her breath as she sobbed.

“We have to do something.” Viserra mumbled, or at least that is what Aemond thought she said.

He leaned back and tilted her body to look at her, his finger under her chin. One brow raised which told her to repeat herself.

“We need to do something.” She said again, this time far more forceful.

Aemond knew where she was headed. Revenge. The same thing he wanted, that Aegon wanted. That their family wanted. But the way she asked, the look in her eyes. She meant the two of them. Not the family.

Them.

“We?” Aemond asked, his thumb stroking over the curve of her chin.

“What shall we do, my love?” he asked, his thumb now tugging down gently on the flesh of her lip.

Viserra paused, distracted by not only his proximity, but the warmth of his hand and the way he stared. What did she want? Revenge, yes. But how? It was not as though they could demand Daemon be brought to them, that would never work.

They needed to be clever about this.

Aemond took advantage of her silence and began to pepper kisses over her neck and jaw. For the two of them, there was never a wrong moment for intimacy. Nothing ever stood in the way of their respective appetites.

“What would my sweet idaña do in her vengeance?” Aemond muttered between kisses, knowing his voice and touch was enough to not only relax her, but entice her.

The sigh Viserra let out was enough to tell him it was working. The way she leaned into him, silently asking for more contact.

“We cannot demand Daemon come stand for his deeds…” Viserra said softly, doing her best to concentrate as Aemond moved down her jaw to her neck.

All she received in response was a hum of approval. Politics and strategy were his game, not hers. She preferred the more, secretive arts. Using the smallest morsel of information against another where she could, an art she had perfected by now. Aemond focused solely on distracting her, letting her relax and think things through.

With practised hands, he maneuvered her to straddle his lap, hands squeezing her thighs when she did not continue talking.

“Word says he is in Harrenhal, laying claim to the stronghold for Rhaenyra’s cause,”

Aemond nodded as he nipped at her neck, hands continuing to knead the flesh of her thighs as he bunched her skirts higher. All of this was the obvious part, to him anyway. But he needed Viserra to work things through. She needed to work things through.

“Harrenhal would be a prize and more for our cause, would it not, brother?” Viserra pulled herself away to force his answer.

“A prize, yes, but how would we take it?” Aemond countered and Viserra narrowed her eyes at him, earning her a smirk in response as he resumed his attack on her skin.

“Our uncle is arrogant, but he will expect retaliation. He would expect Aegon to send an army at least,” Viserra replied as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to have him biting a little harder at her neck.

“So, we do not send an army.”

Aemond had to admit, he had not expected such coherence in her plan. Not because he doubted her intelligence, Viserra was more than she seemed. But because he had expected to be filled with a rage that would near burn her from the inside, not be calculated and planned in her vengeance so soon. His smirk could be felt against her neck, telling her she was right.

“I do listen when you prattle on about strategy, you know, my darling,” Viserra purred, tugging him away from her neck and bringing his lips to hers.

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?”

Aemond near growled in response, even more so to the High Valyrian. Ever since Storm’s End, he had kept vengeance in his mind and heart. The death of Jaehaerys had only made that need greater. Now, having Viserra has desperate for it as he was, he would leave tonight and burn Harrenhal to the ground if she asked.

"Va moriot.” Was the last word from Aemond’s lips before he had his lips on hers, near throwing her down onto the couch below in his haste.

Some men found lust and desire by softer means, like the flirtation or tender touch of their lady. Aemond, however, found it in the darkness that lived in his sweet sister. That fire that never failed to have both his heart and cock demanding her. And Viserra was always willing.

Aemond’s hands slid under her skirts, making quick work of her smallclothes before slipping his fingers deftly between her folds. It seemed talking about vengeance atop him had been enough to get his precious wife excited. But Viserra was not here for his teasing this time.

“Do not tease tonight, valzȳrys,” Viserra hissed down at him and Aemond chuckled but relented. He knew better than to argue.

He made quick work of his preparations, fingertips spreading her slick over her skin as his other hand made quick work of his own breeches. Tonight, would not be a night for soft caresses and slow sensuality. But Aemond remained gentle as he entered her, as he always was, earning him a moan from Viserra to match his own growl of satisfaction.

His movements were gentle but hurried, pushing inside her until he could move no further. Hands pinning hers above her head as he began to rut into her, lips kissing whatever skin he could.

There was no softness and romance, the two of them pouring all emotion they had into this one act. Aemond’s thrusts brutal as he kissed and nipped any skin he could. Viserra’s nails digging into the hand that held her wrists while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

Soon, release found them both. Nothing but grunts and growls from Aemond mixed with the soft chants of his name from Viserra. Slowly, he stilled, gently settling his weight atop her as he released her hands.

“I will give you, and our family, the vengeance we deserve, my sweet sister…”

Alys had been summoned to Daemon’s chambers, which surprised her. The prince never asked for her presence since she had given him her last vision. He had all but avoided her. But he had been given word that she had done nothing but stare into her flames for the last three days.

The three days that had past since word had reached him of the success of Blood and Cheese, and rumours had circled she had seen another vision.

“You called, my prince?” Alys asked, standing close to the door as Daemon turned to acknowledge her.

He nodded, gesturing for Alys to come closer.

“The servants said you have been at the flames? Is this true?” Daemon asked, sounding sceptical as usual.

Alys knew this was coming, despite how he would mock her abilities, he still sought them out.

“I have, do you wish to know what I saw?”

Daemon knew to take the witch’s words with a grain of salt. Never outrightly believe what she said, but he needed to know. And what Alys had seen, would change everything. The question was, how much would she reveal?

Alys began to explain, in her usual frustratingly ambiguous way, her vision. The sudden rush of sight that had hit her hard as she had stared into the flames. Slips of silver hair. The quick flashes of blood, flame, and battle.

A decision made.

Vengeance would be taken.

Valzȳrys = husband

Idaña = twin

Ābrazyrys = wife

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?” = "Will you take vengeance with me?"

"Va moriot." = "Always."

a/n I do use a translator so the High Valyrian won't be perfect!

And comment or dm if you want to be tagged!

Taglist:

@multyfangirl @khaleesihel @lady-phasma @blissfulphilospher @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

[lady-phasma]

slut appreciation post (respectfully)

[lady-phasma]

He's going to walk into that room where I'm waiting, take off that belt, hit me with the buckle end, and tell me I deserve it. And then I cum.

Thank you Trixie Mattel

[lady-phasma]

🌸🤍✨SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL! KEEP THE GAME GOING! 🌸🤍✨

Thank you so much!

[lady-phasma]

he knows what he's doing

[lady-phasma]

me writing: i am a god and reality bends to my whims

me proofreading: im too stupid to be alive

[lady-phasma]

I'm looking for a post:

You know that one about becoming mutuals with someone that you admire and it's a very unique. tumblr experience akin to a celebrity thinking that you are a celebrity?

And you're both like 👉👈 because tumblr makes us feel special. It's so sweet and I know I have reblogged it somewhat recently.

[lady-phasma]

Oh, to be an active Whovian in 2013

Was anyone here a part of this??