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#I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG ALIE!
samsheughan · 5 months
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don't fade away never fade
happy birthday @eddiediaaz!
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theghoulboysblog · 4 months
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hi aly :]
picrew link: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879
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emmet, the fluffed-up mourning dove whisperer 🫶 also, thank you for the picrew! i had so much fun drawing this!!! :) <3
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skindyedblue · 1 year
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I was tagged by @hillnerd like, forever ago? Whoops. But today I feel pretty so here we are 
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I wanted to get some outside and my kiddo followed and proceeded to loudly sing Paparazzi because he is awesome and amazing and clearly my child.
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I am tagging @inkcap @dove29 @habibinasir @its-nanse @fetchalgernon @peppermintfeminist @lytefoot @rowandriftwood @readysetjo @chuckabeth
And anyone else who's feeling like it! Feel free to take a "non selfie selfie" where it’s just a photo of things that are very much You. A still life of your life.
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editorandchief · 1 year
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Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen
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Request: Yes
Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.
Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault
Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist
You couldn't believe it.
He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 
This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 
He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  
Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.
This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.
No.
"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 
"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 
Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 
His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 
She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 
"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."
"I know this must be upsetti-."
"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 
"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.
"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 
"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 
"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.
"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 
"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 
Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 
"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 
"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."
another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.
"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 
 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 
***
It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 
Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 
"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 
"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."
"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.
"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."
"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 
"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."
"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."
Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 
"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.
"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 
Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 
"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  
Part Two
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undertheorangetree · 10 months
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Four- Cooperation
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Summary- Cregan Stark has a proposition and Aemond struggles with the lord’s arrival.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Grief. Talks of treason. Angst cuz I literally can’t stop. Semi public sex. Also private sex. There's a lot of sex. Mild breeding kink. Praise kink. Jizz?? Dry humping. Discussion of dead babies and children. And Alys cuz apparently she needs her own warning now. Cockwarming.
Author’s Note- sorry this took longer than usual it’s end of semester and I am a shell of my former self lmao. Anyway this is once again debatably too long (10.2k) and the full chapter is linked below as usual :)
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It takes a few more days than she had hoped before she is able to speak with Cregan Stark. It seems as though the council had been saving the true work for after the coronation and now they refuse to allow a day to pass without attempting to fix one issue or another. She learns very quickly that even with a council to do the heavy lifting, Aegon had done next to nothing in his six months on the throne, the realm still in shambles from the civil war that has destroyed it.
The Riverlands burnt and all but decimated due to Aemond and Vhagar. The Ironborn raiding every village, port, and town they can reach despite more than one letter arriving in Pyke demanding an end to it. All the great houses still at odds over their differing allegiances. Cregan Stark still thirsty for blood in order to avenge her mother and fulfill his promise to his men. King’s Landing only repaired with half measures after the revolt in the city and less than a quarter of the repairs underway. The list seemed never ending and by the end of each day, she finds a headache sitting heavy behind her eyes, so deep she can’t even attempt to massage the pain away.
To his credit, Aemond takes it upon himself to begin rebuilding the Riverlands himself, taking the initiative to lead the restoration. She has Corlys send word to Alyn Velaryon and command him to sail to Pyke with some of Velaryon fleet with the hopes that conversation and some bribing will be enough to stop Dalton Greyjoy from his raids. Lord Tyland informs them of just how much of the crown’s coffers he had spirited away and begins rationing what can be spared to begin repairing the city. Lord Larys assures them that the hunt for Aegon’s murderer is still well underway, though he has little to show for it.
It is Cregan Stark that is left to her. Handsome, bloodthirsty Cregan Stark. Where he had cast a glare upon almost everyone when he had arrived for the coronation, he had smiled at her, had been friendly and chivalrous. Though Aemond had vehemently disagreed, the council had all but unanimously decided that she was to charm him and turn him toward peace or, barring that, some acceptance of who was now ruling. She does not mind the task, already having planned to speak to the man and not prepared to be usurped less than sennight on the throne, so she agrees and leaves the council chamber with Aemond staring daggers into her back.
She is even more glad for the task as she sits on a bench in the gardens, eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sun as she waits for Lord Stark’s arrival. It feels as though it has been an age since she had the chance to simply be and in this moment, the sun warm and the air sweet with the smell of flowers, she feels completely and totally at peace. It is a strange feeling to have when worry and panic have been all she seemed capable of feeling as of late, but she will take it as it comes. She would rather feel this than the latter and she plans to enjoy it for as long as she is able.
A throat clears and she opens her eyes to see Cregan Stark standing before her, a servant at his side. The girl bows her head to them both before scurrying off as quick as she came and she stands from the bench with a smile.
“Lord Stark. I apologize for the delay in finally being able to speak to one another. My council seems content to work me like an ox now that everything has become more official but I insisted they release me so that I may fulfill my promise to you.”
He smiles as he offers her his arm. “I am honoured you were able to find the time at all, your grace. I know the early days in a new role can be exhausting.”
She mimics his smile gratefully as she takes his arm, allowing him to begin leading her through the gardens. They have not received the attention they deserved as of late- the shrubbery and bushes beginning to grow a bit wild, the flowers untrimmed- but she finds she likes it this way. Being so far into spring, everything is in bloom and beautiful even if they have not been well tended to, the green brilliant and dotted with red, yellow, purple, and white. She allows the silence to fall between them for a moment as she admires it all, feeling as though it has been too long since she has been allowed to enjoy something so simplistically pretty. Whenever she is given a gown or a piece of jewelry, she cannot help but feel as though it is a piece in this great game she never asked to play. The flowers, though, nature, they do not suffer the same fate.
Eventually, she knows she cannot allow for the silence to reign much longer and turns her head to look at the young lord. “My brother told me much about you in his letters. I feel as though you and I are already acquainted.”
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Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans
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hobis-hope95 · 1 month
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Blessed by the Gods pt.2
fancast!Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader
Part 1
Summary: You and Benji decide that, for the better or the worse, you'd follow through what you began. So, with a little help and some persuasion, you pursuit the permission you need to try for a happy ending, with Benjicot Blackwood always by your side.
Warnings: 18+ (minors, please DNI), some fluff (more than the last one), minor fighting description (no blood mentions though), swearing, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, kinda breeding kink, praising kink, mentions of pregnancy and a few self insertions from yours truly.
Authors note: Hey guys, so... I know I took long enough with this one and I'm sorry if I made anyone wait for so much time (I am a reader as well and I know how it is to wait that long). First I want to apologize for the format that this is being delivered (this is how I normally start an idea, but with so much that is going on in this final part I could not get myself to write it "fluidly", so I thought that this would be better than nothing, I'm so sorry ;-;), second is that I work in two hospitals and the free time I have I struggle to organize between sleeping, watching Kieran's tts, reading other fanfics, writing my own, having some quality time with my mom, playing with my dogs and studying for my postgraduate course (I don't know if this is how it's written but I think you get it) so it's a lot. But enough with all the excuses, I hope that you like it, even though I think I could've done better, and I'd love to get some opinions, because all constructive critics are valid and I'd love to know what can I do to get better!!
After all this blabber of mine, enjoy your reading! 🌻✨
Word count: 3.716
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You both stayed in each other's arms for a while, talking about the future and kissing, before Benji decided that it was time they went to Raventree Hall to then head to Riverrun. 
He stood, put back his breeches, and helped you stand, but as you did, you felt the ache in the middle of your thighs, your legs almost giving out as he held you firmly against his chest. 
He didn’t say it with all letters, but he did feel his ego inflate in knowing you were struggling to walk because of him. But because of that he had to carry you on his back.  
So, he covered you in his cloak, smoothing your dress and trying to sweep most of the dirt from it, before he knelt in front of you to carry you on his back (come on, bridal style may be more romantic but is way harder guys) 
All the way to the castle you both teased each other “If you wanted me that much you could’ve asked, didn’t need to stalk me to the weirwood tree” He laughed, a smirk on his lips, and as you turned your face to take a glance at him, you sighed in disbelief “As if I would do such a thing, the one that doesn’t stop looking at me in the assizes and the boundary is you” 
As you get to the castle, he orders you to cover your face with the hood and stay quiet. He gets inside without anyone questioning who he’s caring (but ofc with some staring at his back from the guards) and right after he gets to his room, closing the door and placing you seated in his bed, his aunt gets inside and you panic, facing the floor and pulling at the hood of the cloak. 
“Who is that and why does the guards say they saw you carrying her from the woods, Benjicot?” She demands, her voice unaltered but her tone imposing respect, and he scratches his chin awkwardly “Uhm, that’s the daughter of Amos Bracken and, well, she fell in the woods” 
You take the hood off, looking at the Black Aly, and admit “I am the one to blame, I went to the woods that I knew were in Blackwood territory, but still didn’t care for, then Benji found me and...”  
You stopped talking, your mouth opened but extremely embarrassed to voice the rest of it, your cheeks blushing and feeling hot – even though the day wasn’t that warm – as you looked to Benjicot 
“And we may have engaged in some more... let’s say... private activities” He awkwardly finished the thought, his brows furrowed, and you covered your face with both hands 
“So, you are telling me you just couldn’t control yourselves and engaged in intercourse in the middle of the woods?” As Alysanne concluded, one hand massaging the bridge of her nose, Benji’s eyebrows shot up 
“Well, putting it like that makes it sound-” You interrupted him as you stood up and hugged yourself 
“Stupid and inconsequential, yes” You looked at him, accusing eyes making him point to himself as he mouthed an ‘me?’ but he didn’t stop your next words “He started the whole thing, but it wasn’t something that I didn’t want as well” 
The older woman sighed and asked “What are you two going to do about it?” And for that Benji quickly responded “She’s going to need another dress, but the plan was to go to Riverrun and ask Kermit for him to engage us, so her father may accept it”
“I don’t know if you agree, but I found this as being the least conflicting way for us” You argued right after he stopped talking and Aly sighed 
“I have to say that yes, it may be the best option, so I’ll help you. First, your clothes, come with me. You send a raven to Lord Kermit and ask for three horses to be ready in 15 minutes” The older woman said as she went to you, resting a hand on your back, and pointed to her nephew, who quickly went to his table to write the message 
You went to Lady Alysanne’s chambers and changed to a black and red dress that was the closest to your size, her only arching her brows when she saw the ripped golden dress she’s just so done with their thoughtless actions 
And soon enough you three were riding to Riverrun Benji was just so whipped to see you in his House colours and smirked when he saw you shift uncomfortably in the saddle 
The ride was short and silent, and you thanked the gods when you arrived and had no sign of your father or any Bracken in there 
When Kermit saw you walking to him together with the two Blackwoods, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance “Please do not tell me that it is about the boundary stones again” 
“Actually, it isn’t. The matter is that we want to be wed, and we were willing that you could perhaps convince Lord Bracken to accept it” Benjicot said, and Lord Tully took a minute to process it all, his eyes widening as his brows shot up 
“Okay, now I wished for it to be about the boundary stones” The poor Lord only wants to not deal with Bracken and Blackwood shit anymore, give the man a break
“Please, my lord, you are the only one able to convince my father and...” You shifted, nervously and embarrassed to what you were going to say “And?” He asked, but you just looked at Benji, who held your hand in his 
“And we may expect for a pregnancy in the next few moons” A few of the servants that were in the room gasped and Kermit let out an incredulous laughter 
“So you went that way, then? I truly cherish you, my friend, but why must you make my life so much harder?” He sighed before he called his maester inside “Please, send a message for Amos Bracken that I need to discuss urgent matters with him, with haste, and later send another message for house Frey, apologizing and saying their Lord Paramount had a change of plans” 
“I’m really sorry, my lord” You took a step forward and bowed in apology, but he dismissed it “I knew one day or another this would happen, so do not worry, I just wished it had happened sooner, for now I must arrange another marriage for Forrester Frey” 
After that you were all dismissed to rest until the arrival of Amos Bracken and you grabbed Benji's arm with a strong grip, mumbling as you turned to leave the hall “You made me sore, you idiot” 
Benji almost choked trying not to laugh and replied “You have no idea of how it pleases me to know that” 
And as soon as you are out of the great hall, Benji asks for a servant to take you to a place to rest and the servant complies, saying that it has already been arranged as she takes you to another room  
After a couple of hours, you are requested to get back to the great hall for your father had arrived and when you get there he frowns in confusion  
When Benji arrives right after you, his expression turns to pure rage 
“Lord Amos, I know that I have granted you permission to marry your daughter to Forrester Frey” Kermit started as you placed yourself next to your father “But it seems to me that this union is not to be blessed, and another proposal seemed more reasonable” 
“Excuse me, my lord, but what exactly do you mean by that?” Your father enquires and you feel your throat dry 
“Lord Benjicot came to me with a really good proposal of bringing peace to both your families by marrying your daughter and me, as your Lord Paramount, see this as a good opportunity, one we should not miss because of our ego or unsolved matters of the past” 
“You expect me to give my daughter to this- this boy who knows nothing about honour and will most likely corrupt her into hating her own family?”  
You lowered your head when your father talked about corruption, remembering how just a couple hours ago you were more than eager to let yourself be bred by a Blackwood - and him only - and to carry his babe, and your face turned red with embarrassment  
“You may find it surprising, lord Amos, but I do not care or have any intentions on corrupting anyone” Liar, you thought, but wouldn’t dare to pronounce the words, as you lifted back your head to look at Benjicot, who had stepped closer to your father and yourself “I wish to marry her mostly for the prospect of peace and for that I would respect any of her wishes and let her as close to her family as possible” 
“And why should I agree with it if you can possibly change your mind and just have her as someone to torture and use as a threat while you do as you please?” You wanted to say to your father to trust him, but that would sound as childish words with no guarantee whatsoever 
“Because your daughter may, at this very moment, already be carrying my child and despite of what you believe, I do have honour, as I would not let this baby live without a father and I would never do any harm to the mother of my children” 
If Amos Bracken was angry with Kermit’s proposal, now he was furious with Benji’s words, so much so that his face was becoming red 
“What in the seven hells did you say about my daughter?” He turned to you, and you could not hide your fear, your eyes widening “What is he insinuating?” 
After a moment of hesitation, you took a deep breath and answered, your hands closed in fists beside your body so tight that your nails were hurting your flesh “He is right father, I willingly laid with him and I do not wish for the child to grow apart from his father if I’m truly pregnant, but I would never stop loving my House and family, I swear” 
In a fit of rage, lord Bracken turned back to Benjicot, grabbed his sword from his hips, and tried attacking the younger man 
You were glad that lord Blackwood was as good with a sword as the rumours said, for his reaction was quick enough that before the blade could hit him, the loud *CLANG* of swords resonated through the hall 
The guards wasted no time and in a moment were around both men and Kermit Tully raised from his seat 
But before any men could react, you screamed as hard as you could, and took the advantage of their confusion to stand between your father and your lover 
“Enough!!” You said – tired of being the good daughter and polite lady, moving with the adrenaline of it all – and turned to your father, letting Benji face your back “I know that what I did was not the best decision I could have done, but I did it, we did it, and I have no regrets” 
“This feud between our Houses has been going on for too long and it’s time for some change and a bit of peace. We came to lord Tully for his approval, which he gave, and like it or not, my lord father, we are going to get married” 
“I love you, mom and our family and I love our House, but- but between a marriage with someone twice my age for just another senseless alliance of yours and a Blackwood, I prefer the one with an alliance that would truly benefit both” 
All men in the room with swords in hand lowered their arms, Benjicot being the first one, and after a few long seconds with your eyes on his, your father gave in 
“It had to be a Blackwood?” He asked, his sword lowered next to his body, and you answer “I know, I’m sorry father, but you can’t control one’s heart” 
You and your father have a cute little moment, he hugs you and all, and after all calmed down, he apologizes to lord Tully and agrees with the proposal  
Your engagement would last 3 weeks, so it could be properly arranged, which made you grunt a little but accept it anyway 
That night all of you feast on Riverrun – as it was already too late to get back – and to your surprise, after the first minutes of awkwardness, your father and Benjicot started getting on seemingly well 
You and Benji had time to get to know each other better, forgetting the rest of the world as you laughed at his stories, both whipped as hell 
And when he discovered that you actually frequently went to that one clearing, he praised your hiding abilities
And for the next three weeks you spend all the time you can together in your short courtship, but rarely alone 
When Benji would come to Stone Hedge, one of your father’s guards or your mom’s servants would follow you and never lose sight  
When you went to Raventree Hall, Black Aly would make sure that the same happened  
Even when you’d meet outside, near the boundary or walking through the woods, someone would always follow 
Still, that didn’t prevent you to hold hands, sit on the grass with your legs touching or him to bring your faces together for a delicate kiss to your lips 
All the light touches, the way he would lick his lips and open a smirk while looking at yours and the way he would purposely choose narrow paths in the woods to guide you from behind – his hands never leaving your hips and his mouth blowing on your ear every time he spoke – were driving you crazy, leaving you lightheaded and with reddened cheeks 
And he adored your reactions, proudly smirking when you shifted on your seat or avoided his gaze the devil in disguise, that little shit
And speaking of this, he loved when you tried to provoke him as well, with your lingering touch on his arm or chest, the way you’d lean down and your chest would be on full display, and how you’d kiss his cheek for longer than necessary  
By the day before your marriage, both were desperate for one another, but still kept it on those soft touches and light kisses 
After two weeks you sadly discover that you aren’t pregnant, for your monthly comes one day after waking up and feeling cramps on your lower abdomen. Even so, that was long forgotten, and you knew that soon enough you’d have more than enough times to try for a pregnancy
The Wedding Day 
You both decided that the ceremony would be held by the Old Gods tradition, but instead of choosing the Godswood in Stone Hedge or Raventree Hall, you agreed it would take place on that beautiful clearing in the woods 
The ceremony felt almost magical, the moon so beautiful in the night sky throwing rays of light between the leaves, and Benjicot felt like his heart could just jump out of his chest when he saw you dressed all in white  
As your father and the guests held torches to guide you to your groom, who was standing right in front of the weirwood tree next to his aunt, you felt the happiest woman on earth 
As Alysanne Blackwood started the ceremony with the question “Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” You felt like you could burst, your heart beating as fast as it could be 
As the few sentences are exchanged between your father and your aunt-to-be, they both turn to you, who quickly answers Aly’s last question “I take this man” 
The ceremony continues and soon enough you are lifted in Benji’s arms, your faces just a breath away, as he carries you to the wedding party, being the last ones to leave the clearing  
“Who would say that this clearing could bring a couple together?” You asked after taking a last glance at the place 
“We may never know how the Gods work, but they do find their way to bring people together” He smirked at you as you blushed, remembering that day that already felt long gone, and he leaned in to kiss you, your hand on his nape as you gave in to his sweet lips  
When you both arrived at the feast, the guests all cheer and soon enough you both are dancing, feasting and talking to some of the too many faces in the room 
Most of the night Benji is right next to you, a possessive hand on the small of your back, and you are glad to see that he pays no attention to other women present there, safe from his aunt and your mother 
After three or four hours of all that, noticing that the guests are far from leaving, you quietly ask your husband “Do we need to stay any longer?” 
“I was about to suggest for us to leave, actually” He answer as the hand on your back starts to lightly push you towards the small door in a corner of the big dining hall 
“Don’t we need to inform anyone about us leaving?” You ask, quickly looking through the room, but he just says that your absence would be noticed soon enough  
Your steps are quick, both too eager to get to your shared chambers to actually care if anyone saw you both almost running through the halls which a few servants did, but no comments were made apart from something on the lined of ‘oh, those youngsters in love’ 
Barely making an effort to close the door behind you, Benjicot lost no time before hovering over you, his hands on your hips pulling you as close as he could and his lips smashing over yours 
Differently from your last time, your husband now took his time on undressing you, taking care for nothing to rip apart or hurt you in the process 
And after both of you were fully naked, his warmth welcoming you closer, he took you in his arms and lied you on the big bed 
“Now is when I break your father’s hopes of not corrupting you, for I want to hear your sweet voice saying you’re all mine, wife” He said as his lips roamed through your skin, leaving love bites and kisses along the way until he got to the middle of your thighs 
He ate you out like you were his own private feast, each moan and little quiver making him more invested on making you cum 
When one of your hands pulled on his hair, he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations hitting right at your clit, and you moaned his name like a prayer 
Not long after he squeezed two fingers inside you, hitting the spot that made you see stars repeatedly, curling them inside you as his tongue worked on your clit  
Soon enough you nearly screamed when your orgasm hit you like a powerful wave, your whole body turning into melted iron 
Benjicot didn’t stop right away, slowly and carefully reducing his pace, and only then did he lifted his head, your fluids leaving almost half of his face glistening  
“Husband, please, I want you inside me now” You whined, feeling a slight breeze hit your sensitive core as he moved back to be face to face with you 
“So bossy and so beautiful” Benji said as he saw your expression, blown watery pupils looking at him, pleading for him to take you “My lady Blackwood, do you want my cock that bad?” 
“Yes, I want you, please” You begged, your hands reaching for any part of him you could touch 
He leaned down to kiss you, your taste on his tongue, and he stroked himself before aligning his tip to your entrance 
And when he got inside you, oh Gods how you loved this 
This time with all the time in the world, he made love to you, shifting his pace every so often to make it last but also giving in to his desires 
In no time, both of you started to moan each other’s names, talking about belonging to each other and exchanging sloppy kisses  
When he felt your walls tighten around his cock, he hurried himself and soon after you came together, your moans mixing when he kissed you 
After catching his breath, he held your hips and rolled you both on the bed, lying on your sides and retreating from inside you, your legs tangled in a comfortable position 
“I love you” After a moment of silence you let out, your eyes scanning his in fear of rejection, but all you saw was a soft expression, a bright smile on his face that brought butterflies to your stomach  
“One month ago I would’ve rejected the idea of even liking you, but now I cannot think of living without you” He brushed a lock of your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead “In these three weeks you taught me to love you, to crave your attention and your smile and now I can’t wait to form a family with you” 
“I can’t wait to bear your children, husband” You said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, and he pulled you closer by the hip, a smirk on his face 
“So we better not waste any more time, wife” Benji said before turning you on your back again 
The two of you loved each other for the rest of the night and all nights that followed, so soon enough your pregnancy was announced and the promise of a family finally came to fruition.  
The love for each other only grew as time passed by and a peace that few believed to be possible was finally a reality in the Riverlands.  
So that's it, again I'm really sorry for the way I delivered this to y'all, but I just couldn't delay it anymore trying to fit it all together like a full text.
Thank you for all the likes, reblogs and comments in part one and feel free to leave a comment, I'd love that! 🌻✨
Tag: @jevoislavieenrouge
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sweetandspicy · 14 days
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Sorry this is a long post, I had to rant a bit.
The thing that bothers me the most about the ACOTAR series is the fae. I love fae, I love stories with fae in them, there are so many interesting things you can do with them. So many ways you can make them unique and yet still retain the basis of what fae are. And yet Sarah J Maas just... doesn't.
SJM really just took everything interesting about the fae and threw it in the bin. The fae to me have always been fantastical, "other", they just don't feel human, they feel different, they feel strange. But ACOTAR's fae are just so bland and boring. They don't feel different to the humans. In fact they feel like humans but with magic and pointy ears. It genuinely pains me how SJM threw everything interesting about the fae away.
I personally love the concept of the fae not being able to lie. There is so much fun and interest in that concept. It is something that is challenging to navigate. Every fae character cannot directly tell a lie therefore you have to get creative with what they say, you have to twist words around so that they can lie without actually lying.
That idea is initially presented to us but Feyre learns pretty early on that that isn't true. That the fae in ACOTAR can lie. Even if SJM wanted to take away the concept that fae can't lie, she didn't even play around with Feyre's misconception about them. Feyre could've gone through part of the first book believing everything that the fae said to her to be true. To me, that sounds like an interesting concept and i would've loved to read about it. I can't remember exactly how quickly Feyre is told the fae can lie but it's not even slightly an issue.
Another thing about the fae is that they're mischievous. They love playing tricks, whether it's something mild or completely cruel. But ACOTAR's characters lack that mischievousness, the cunning. They aren't tricksters like fae usually are. Correct me if I'm wrong but I can't seem to remember a time when someone attempted to trick Feyre. Amarantha made a deal with Feyre, but it was straightforward, there was no trick to it. Rhysand didn't trick her into the bargain either. It would've been interesting to see the fae attempting to trick Feyre, to get her to enter into a bargain that seems good but they worded it in a way that it is actually bad.
Instead the ACOTAR characters, specifically the males, are all presented as your typical "alpha male". Rhysand is presented to us as cunning but to me he doesn't feel like that of a cunning fae but a cunning human. Tamlin can literally shapeshift and yet SJM doesn't do anything of interest with that. Luicen was slightly mischievous in Book 1 but even then it is how you expect any normal character to be, he does not play tricks like that of the fae. I might be nitpicking with these but i truly wish we had gotten more trickster like characters.
As much as everyone likes to hate on Book 1, there were interesting fae in that book. The Bogge, the Naga, the Puca (I suppose this one did trick Feyre), the Suriel. Alis was interesting, she was described as having bark like skin. I want more diversity in the characters looks. Our main cast and most of the major side characters all look normal, human but with pointy ears or wings.
Their appearance isn't necessarily the issue. It's the fact that the fae are meant to be seen as difderent to the humans and yet they barely are.
So many interesting things about the Fae, from their behaviour to their culture and magic and rituals, all the funky little things humans do to ward off or stop the fae, down the drain. And if I'm being completely honest, I believe SJM isn't a competent enough writer to pull off the complexities that make the fae, fae. It feels almost disrespectful to call these characters fae.
(I am no expert in fae mythology. But from all that I've seen and read, these characters just aren't it.)
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fadingdreamland · 9 months
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Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!wife!reader x Alys Rivers
Warnings : open relationship, SMUT, threesome (FMF/FFM), spit kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, bathtub sex, not proofread
English is not my first language. Also this is my first time writing smut. Sorry if it's kinda cringe.
2091 words
You entered Harrenhal on foot, surrounded by guards. You had been separated from your husband for months. He had written to you about his lover, Alys Rivers, and you grew curious about her. Not jealous. You and Aemond had had lovers before and even at times shared them. 
The agreement was made when he took you from Storm’s End, right before you wedding. He though that yours would be a loveless marriage. He was wrong. Love grew between you two but it did not stop you from seeking pleasure in others, too. You were almost as promiscuous as Aegon but you hid your depravities well.
The letters your husband had sent you described the encounters he had had with his new lover. Those letters got you extremely turned on. You tried to seek relief by yourself, then with lovers of your own but it was never enough. So you left for Harrenhal without even warning of your arrival.
That must be the reason there was no one to receive you. Heads turned toward you in the courtyard. As if they knew who you were but were not sure. It did not take you long to find your husband.
“Y/N,” Aemond said as you walked into the room. He was with his men around a table, likely planning their next attack against the Blacks. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you that disappointed to see me, husband?”
“Leave us.” Aemond orders to the men and the room clears. As soon as the door is closed Aemond is on you. His lips caressing yours, his tongue in your mouth as he holds you against him and your hands cup his face.
“You could not expect me to stay in King’s Landing after the letters you sent me”
His lips raise in a smirk. “So you did not come al the way from King’s Landing to see me.”
“Your letters got me so wet. Even my lovers could not satisfy me.“
His smile turns even more mischievous as if it were possible. “I have duties, wife. I cannot simply drop them to fuck you.“
“I can wait. In your chambers. With Alys.” You said, slowly caressing his hardening cock through the fabric of his breeches. As he leans in to kiss you again you step away, your hand leaving his cock. “The travel has been long, husband. I would like a bath. And food.”
He nods and less than an hour later you have a warm bath prepared for you in Aemond’s chambers. You take off you cloak and the maid helps you out of your gown. You enter the bath, warm water relaxing you muscles. You sigh in relief.
A knock on the door startles you out of your relaxing time. A woman with black hair enters with a tray overflowing with food and leaves it on the table in front of the bed, a few feet away.
She curtesies to you.“Princess, I am Alys Rivers. Prince Aemond’s maid.”
“Of course, you are.” You turn toward the maid. “Leave. Lady Rivers will help me bath”
The maid nods, curtsies and leaves.
“Please, princess, call me Alys. I am no lady.“
“Then you shall call me by name, too.”
Alys grabs a cloth and kneels beside the bathtub. She rubs your back, and your shoulders, your chest and goes down the valley of your breasts.
“The Prince talked a lot about you. You are as beautiful as he described.” Alys praises in what could be considered a whisper.
“I have heard about you, too, Alys. In Aemond’s letters.”
“Am I as you imagined, Y/N?” The whisper of your name on her lips makes you clench your thighs together.
“I do not know yet. Undress and I will know.”
Alys stares at you. You cannot tell if she is surprised but you can clearly see lust in her eyes.
“Undress, Alys.” You repeat. “I am not asking, I am ordering.”
She stands up and starts taking off her dress, unties her corset then lets the fabric drop on the ground. She is bare to you. The perfect swell of her breasts, her pale skin and her cunt.
“You, too, are as Aemond described.” You finally say after staring at her for a moment that seemed too short to you. 
“What else do you know about me ?” Alys asks.
“People say that you are a witch. They say you have bewitched my husband into fucking you.”
“What do you say?”
“You are a witch, Alys Rivers. But I don’t think you used whatever power you have on my husband.” Your eyes roam her naked body “With breasts like that, a body like yours… There’s no need to use magic to fuck whoever you want”
Alys simply smiles at you. It is not a warm smile or a nice one, it is a rather… lustful smile.
“Join me,” you gesture toward the other end of the bathtub.
Alys does not hesitate or wait and enters the bathtub, sitting opposite you. Her legs brush yours. One of your hands grips her foot and slowly travels up her leg your body following once you reach her knee until you are straddling her lap.
Her face so close to yours that you feel every one of her breaths on your face. Her breasts and yours touching, rubbing against each other. Her hands go to your waist and push you down on her even more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.
You lean in, your forehead against hers, your nose rubs against her cheek. You put one hand on the side of her face and kiss her. Her lips are soft, you press your tongue against her lower lip and her tongue infiltrates your mouth. 
One of her hands grabs you hair and tugs at it, your head goes slightly backward and your mouth opens even more. Alys licks your lips and presses against your tongue, she moves to kiss your neck then your chest and finally she gets to your breasts. Her tongue dances all over them driving a sigh of pleasure out of you.
You cannot resist any longer and your hands cup her breasts massaging them, you feel her moans muffled by your breast in her mouth. Your hand moves from her tit to her throat, you wrap your head around it and tug her away from your chest. You lock eyes with her.
“Fuck, Alys. You’re even better than what Aemond told me.”
Alys tucks her lower lip between her teeth. You grab her by her cheeks with one hand, the other still playing with her tit.
“Open your mouth.” She does as you say, her mouth falls open.
You lick the insides of her mouth as she had done to you before and then tou spit in her mouth.
“Swallow.” You whisper. Again, she does as you say. “Tell me, Alys, what did Aemond say you about me?”
“He said that your title may be ‘princess’ but you really are a whore.” You smirk. “He also said that your cunt is divine.”
“I guess I am a whore. But I do not know if my cunt is truly divine. Will you tell me?” You ask her as you lead her hand between your legs.
“Yes. Tell her.” A voice from the door says.You and Alys look toward the voice. Aemond. Heis standing, his back against the closed door.“She never believes me when I do.”
“How long have tou been standing there?” Alys asks.
“Since my wife’s tit was in you mouth.”
You look down his body and notice the tightness in his breeches. You smile, biting you lip.
“Come, husband. We will relieve the pressure in your breeches” You say.
Aemond crosses the room until he is standing beside the bathtub. Alys reaches for his breeches, unties them and lets them fall to the floor. Aemond’s cock springs free. As Alys goes to wrap her mouth around it you pull her face to you and kiss her just as intensely as you had done before. Aemond groans in frustration as Alys kisses you back. 
You pull away out of breath and without breaking eye contact with Alys you bring you husband’s cock to you mouth. You lick the tip and prompt Alys to do the same. You both start kissing and liking Aemond’s cock until you pull it inside her mouth, she starts sucking as you stand up to kiss Aemond. Your husband enters your mouth with his tongue as one of his hands cups your breast and the other is on the back of Alys’ head while he fucks her mouth.
Suddenly you feel something moving over your cunt, you look down and see Alys’ hand cupping it. As you return to kiss Aemond you guide Alys’ fingers to your clit.
She starts rubbing there, you moan into your husband’s mouth. You reach for his eyepatch and pull at it to take it off. You pull away from him to look at his face. Fuck, you love to see him without his eyepatch. 
You feel Alys’ mouth on your clit and moan as you look down and see her hand around Aemond’s cock and her face buried in your cunt. You reach for your husband’s manhood as you kiss him again. You play with his balls, then wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him. This makes Alys focus solely on you as she sucks on your pearl she brings her fingers to your entrance. You put a foot on the edge on the bathtub to give her better access.
She inserts a finger, then another and she pumps in and out. In and out. Your mouth falls open and Aemond uses this opportunity to spit in your mouth, hot liquid invading your mouth. You swallow as you know he likes it.
He grabs Alys by her hair and yanks her up, forcing her to stand up. You whimper at the loss of contact. Aemond spits in Alys’ mouth, then in yours and guides you two to each other. You kiss Alys, this time it is your tongue in her mouth, you taste a mixture of Aemond and you in her mouth and by the gods you’ve never been so turned on.
“I want to taste her cunt,” I tell Aemond as I pull away from Alys.
“Then perhaps it is time to move to the bed,” he answers.
I nod and grab Alys’ hand and lead her out of the bathtub, you push her on the bed. You kneel on the bed as she crawls backwards, farther into the cushions. You feel Aemond behind you, his chest against your back. He got rid of all his clothes. Perfect. He puts his hand to the back of your neck and with one swift movement he brings your face down to Alys’ cunt.
“Fuck her with your mouth,” he orders and you comply.
You lick at her pearl drawing breathless sighs from her. Licking is soon not enough for you and you wrap your mouth around her clit and part of her mouth. You suck, lick, bring your fingers to her entrance. Her hand wraps around your hair, begging for more. Two fingers inside her and Aemond pushes inside you from behind without warning. Tou scream out in pleasure into Alys’ cunt. Aemond’s hard thrusts guide the rhythm go your fingers and tongue on Alys’ cunt. The moans ans groans and skin-slapping sound invade the chamber.
Your free hand goes up Alys’ body until it reaches her tits, you lassie them as you keep your mouth sucking and licking her clit and your fingers go in and out of her.
Aemond slaps your ass making you moan, his thrusts become faster, harder, his hand reechoes around you tu rub your pearl the way he knows drives you crazy and he comes inside you triggering your own release. Alys comes in your mouth as Aemond rides out your orgasm. You lick every drop of Alys’ release. She tastes as good as Almond told you.
Your husband lies down beside Alys as you lie down on the other side of your new lover. After recovering your breath in a few minutes, Alys’ hand reaches to your belly, where your womb is.
“She will carry your child soon, Aemond.” She says. It is not a guess or a hopeful comment, she seems certain of it. She is certain of it.
“So will you,” he answers with a smirk as his cock hardens again.
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homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months
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Drawn to you | Pt. 9 - The End
(A/N) I am truly sorry that there hasn't been a update in what feels like forever. Uni has been hell, but at least it's over soon! Anyway, I hope you liked this series, and don't worry, this won't be the last time you see Alastor on my blog. If you want to read anything specific, just shoot me a request!
Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)
Warnings: fluff
Synopsis: Happy End
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
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Hell - now
Your eyes slowly fluttered open, peering up at Alastor. His eyes were shut tightly, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks as quiet sobs wrecked through his body. If you could read his mind, you would’ve heard him calling himself every vile name he could think of. You slowly raised your hands until they were cupping his face, twisting your body out of his grip until you were straddling him.
“Ali?”
His eyes snapped open, the red shining slightly brighter at the irritation from crying. His face was twisted into a frown while his eyes were filled with regret and unsaid apologies,
“My love…”
Your lips pulled into a sad smile as you pulled his head down against your chest. At that moment, he let loose. Sobs fell from his lips while tears escaped his tightly shut eyes. His body was shaking, his clawed hands holding you as tight as possible. The shirt he had changed you into after he had saved you from the Vee’s slowly grew wetter as you held him against you, quietly shushing and trying to comfort him. It took a few minutes for Alastor to calm down.
“I’m so sorry, my love.”
You pressed a longing kiss against the crown of his head and smiled as he raised his head to look at you.
“There is nothing to apologize for, my heart. I’m just glad you remember now.”
He shook his head, glancing down at the floor as shame radiated off him before he glanced at you again.
“I shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place. I should’ve recognized you the moment you knocked on these doors and-.”
You quickly shut him up with a kiss. Within seconds you felt him relax against you, a warm smile spreading across your lips. As you slowly pulled away, your eyes quickly scanned his face, regret still lingering in his eyes. You quickly pressed your lips against his again. And then against the tip of his nose. And then against his cheek. And the other cheek. And his right brow.
You continued until you felt him shake against you, this time not because sobs wrecked through his body, but because he was chuckling. With a big grin, you pulled back, peering down at Alastor. And as he looked at you, he finally accepted all the love and adoration that was practically radiating off you. A content sigh left his lips and he leaned his forehead against you and closed his eyes again.
“I can’t believe you’re here. Really here.”
You chuckled as he pulled back, slowly getting off the bed, and taking all of you in. You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow as a silent question.
“You…look so healthy.”
He stepped back towards the bed and offered a hand, that you quickly accepted. With a smooth motion, he pulled you off the bed and into his arms, spinning you around, before pulling you close and rocking side to side.
“I can’t believe I have you back.”
You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. The two of you continued to sway to the soft music coming from Alastor’s cane. At least until Alastor suddenly stopped. He pulled away and studied you for a second.
“Why…why are you here?”
You frowned.
“I…heard about you from the Vee’s and when I finally had the chance to escape and find you, I took it. I-”
He interrupted you with a shake of his head.
“No, no. I mean why are you in hell? You were the purest, most holy person I ever knew. How are you not in heaven?”
You hesitated.
“I…I was told that you wouldn’t go to heaven when you died…so I decided not to go there either.”
Alastor looked taken aback as if you had just insulted his mother’s Jambalaya. Who in their right mind would go to hell voluntarily?
“You mean…you chose to go to hell? Because of me?”
You nodded, cradling his cheek with your hand, a soft smile on your lips.
“And I would do it a hundred times over.”
You rose to the tip of your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He was frozen still, only moving when he felt your lips on his. With a quick motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, keeping you locked against him until you had to breathe.
“I can’t believe you went to hell for me.”
He opened his eyes and grinned at you.
“I know why I fell for you.”
You chuckled, leaning your head back in faux thought.
“Because of my good looks? My sparkling personality? Or was it my cooking?”
He chuckled and nodded to all of those reasons, before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
“Because you are you. And definitely not because of your cooking. Whenever you were in the kitchen, the result was a health hazard.”
You looked at him, acting appalled, before giggling and nodding.
“Yeah, the kitchen definitely isn’t my place. But it is yours.”
Alastor hummed in agreement, resting his chin on top of your head.
“Talking about the kitchen…can you cook me something? I’m starving.”
“Why, of course, cher. Hold on tight.”
You did as you were told and gasped as the same pulling sensation took over you as when he rescued you. But before you knew it, you found yourself in the hotel’s kitchen. Alastor led you to a bar stool standing on the opposite side of a kitchen island and carefully helped you up.
When he was sure you were sitting safely, he whisked around to the other side and pulled an apron over his head. You quietly chuckled at the print “Kiss the Chef”, a wide smile on your face as you watched Alastor run around, preparing all of your favorite dishes at the same time. At one point, you waved him over, pressing your lips to his as soon as he was in reach. When he looked at you, pleasant surprise on his face, you just pointed at the apron, a grin on your face.
Your grin only widened when you noticed that light blush that dusted Alastor’s cheek as he walked back to the stove.
Half an hour later, every meal you could think of was served in front of you. From starters to desserts, you were free to choose. And while you loaded your plate, a few of the other residents entered the kitchen, clearly pulled there by the smell.
“Mister Fancy Talk Creepy Voice can cook?”
You turned around and came face to face with almost all of the other residents. The one that talked was the spider demon and you couldn’t help but smile. He must really grind Alastor’s gears.
“He is an amazing cook. Go ahead, try some, there is no way in hell, I could finish all this by myself.”
You clearly didn’t have to tell him twice, as he quickly grabbed a plate and pilled food on top of it. The others soon followed suit and before you knew it, every single soul in the hotel was sitting in the kitchen with you, enjoying Alastor’s cooking. The man himself was standing behind you, his arms around your waist, while his chin was resting on your shoulder.
“Don’t you want to eat something?”
You kept your voice quiet and didn’t further question him when he shook his head. You knew that he didn’t like to do personal talk in front of others and this felt like something he would explain to you sooner or later. Still, from time to time you held up your fork, offering the bite to him, and he took it every time.
All too soon, you started feeling full and had to put down your fork and knife. A deep yawn escaped your lips and you felt Alastor chuckle behind you.
“Time to get my love back to bed. If you’ll excuse us.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, the last thing you could see before you were teleported away, were the other residents, gawking at you. Their reaction made you smile and when you finally reappeared in Alastor’s room, you couldn’t help but lean back into him.
Quietly, he first undressed you and then him, before he led you to his bed. The two of you cuddled up under the blanket as Al pulled you against him. You closed your eyes, sleep overtaking you quickly, and for the first time since you had died, everything felt right.
Thank you for reading! Hope to see you in the next one! 💕
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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist
Master-Masterlist
62 notes · View notes
ukulelevillainwrites · 7 months
Text
who follows the rules anyway?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
complete
pairing : anthony lockwood x reader
word count : 10k
warnings : drinking, drunken state
taglist : @demigoddess-of-ghosts ; @oblivious-idiot ; @neewtmas ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @bella-rose29 ; @maraschinomerry ; @novelizt ; @fudosl ; @archiveoftara ; @cassiopeiia24 (i think i didn't forget anyone but i could be wrong)
content : I couldn’t resist some callbacks to the attic scene before fittes’ party, George wears a bowtie for all the fans of ali in a bowtie out there know that it was my frame of reference, I tried to not make it look like a direct copy of the fittes party but there are a lot of similarities
note : life got so out of hand, I sincerely apologize that it took so long but to make up for it it’s quite long and I really really like this part it’s THE part I’ve fantasized about since I started writing and I really like how the main scenes came out
Also sorry I know it’s been a long time but pt8 picks up right after the last scene of pt7
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She realized what she just said as she walked past him entering the kitchen. She turned around suddenly, bumping into him as he followed her inside.
“I’m so sorry Lockwood I’m being so rude.”
“Well, you’re not wrong but you could tell me this without stepping on my toes.”
She looked down and fair enough she was. She took a few steps back, apologizing again and she bumped into the cupboards behind her.
“Ow!”
“Am I gonna have to stitch you up again?” Lockwood asked, amused.
“I’m so sorry.” She said again sitting down in the chair closest to her.
“You keep saying that.”
“Well, I am. I’m sorry I talked to you that way in front of Lucy, and I’m sorry I talked to you like that in the hall, and I’m sorry I came into your life yelling at you and making you angry-”
“I’m not angry.” He interrupted. “Just… frustrated.” They stayed in silence for a while staring at each other.
“I can’t figure you out.” He admitted in a lower voice.
She could have told him the same thing.
“You hate me, then you warm up to me, then you give me the cold shoulder and hate me again… what am I supposed to think?”
“I don’t hate you. I just… I can’t figure you out either. I never know what you’re thinking.”
“Well, I hired you because I think you’re good, I hate fighting, I genuinely want to help you with this whole thing, and I think it’s pretty nice when we get along. Is that clear enough?”
Not quite, she thought. What were they supposed to be? Did he consider them actual friends now or were they far from it? Did he mean it when he said that he had always been honest with her? His charming act did look awfully familiar every time he used it with clients. She didn’t know what she was supposed to think. All the questions that clouded her mind when she thought about him came rushing in.
“We’re strictly colleagues then? Or am I allowed to say that we’re friends.” She managed.
“I think friends is more fitting. I mean what kind of employer would I be sleeping in the same couch as my underling?”
She blushed furiously at the memory of his arms around her.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Did I go too far that night? I never meant to-”
“Lockwood it’s alright. It was sweet really… I didn’t expect you to watch over me like that.”
They both looked anywhere else but each other, embarrassed at the thought of that night. She didn’t regret it, quite the contrary. She still thought about it fondly.
“It was nice… I felt safe.” She added in a tone barely above a whisper.
“I know you’d do the same for me…”
She looked up at him in surprise.
“Wouldn’t you?” he asked, his frown deepening as he looked into her eyes, almost begging.
“I… I just don’t see what I did to make you so sure of it. Was it the insults or the yelling?”
He laughed.
“You saved my life twice. I didn’t think I’d have to remind you that, I rather thought you’d gloat and annoy me with it every single day.”
“You’re right I should.”
They exchanged another look, warmer and more knowing.
She got up to prepare some tea. She made his cup the way he liked it and handed to him. He smiled at her with the familiarity she liked so much. She turned around before he could notice the blush on her cheeks. She then prepared two more cups, George’s with slightly more sugar than hers and placed them on an unused corner of the Thinking Cloth. She called on George and handed him his tea. When she looked up at Lockwood his smile wasn’t as wide. The three of them settled around the table.
“Alright, let’s plan a heist.”
--
“Why can’t we just push it back one week? It’d give us the extra time we need to prepare.”
“The event for the launch of their new rapier line will be more crowded and it lasts an entire day. Showing up there will never be enough to keep us out of suspicion. It has to be the fundraiser tomorrow.”
Lockwood hadn’t looked up from the plans of the building. They were trying to figure out the safest route for Lucy and Norrie to reach the documents they needed while staying as far from the party as possible and they were running out of time. Lockwood had had a hard time getting them in the fundraiser. For starter he had tried reaching out to different contacts to get in. The only result he got was a newfound rage against the Organization for not inviting them in the first place. She could have guessed a million things that could have motivated Lockwood to get them into this party at all costs. She didn’t think Bunchurch would be the one. Apparently the less than prestigious agency had some agents attending the event. In fact, all agencies had some representatives attending, or almost all of them. Something about showing the growing bonds between agencies and the Silverpoint Organization. Lockwood’s renewed determination led him to go all the way down to their headquarters to demand an invite using a mix of his usual charms and some threats of bad press. He had been convincing enough to get the three of them in. He had just put the envelopes down on the Thinking Cloth with a triumphant smile when someone knocked on the door. George led Lucy in the kitchen and they all smiled widely when she told them she and Norrie would join them. All the pieces were finally coming together. Then they studied the plans of the house and realized that it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.
First of all because it was a mansion and not a house. The surface was significantly larger and the number of rooms they had to cover seemed impossible to search in just a few hours. Second of all because it was a city mansion, just north of Hyde Park, with other buildings right next to it, no garden and the front door accessible from the street. No other point of entry and neighbours on both sides. It had been fairly easy to determine which rooms to search first, compared to figuring out how the girls were supposed to get inside and out while remaining unseen.
“Wait what’s this?” Norrie asked picking up some of the research y/n had done on the party. She had spent so much time looking at those papers she couldn’t bear to look at them again.
“It’s details about the party, the agencies and companies that will be represented, the staff I managed to get information about, that kind of thing.”
“Well, if we know which catering company they’ll be hiring why don’t we use that?”
“How?”
“I don’t know… Maybe get hired, be a waitress during the event and use that to slip out?”
They all stared at her, in disbelief that they didn’t make the connection sooner.
“That’s a good idea but I’m not sure we’ll have enough time to get hired.” Lucy raised a good point.
“They’re always looking for extra people at the last minute for this kind of event. They get to hire desperate people who need a job so they can pay them less. It could be worth a try.”
“Norrie, that’s brilliant.” Lockwood exclaimed, his enthusiasm renewed. “Okay, you and Lucy will get in by waitressing at the event.” He got up and started pacing around the room. “You discreetly slip out and search the rooms in that order. I’ll need you to find a folder to put the documents in. Next, one of you go up on the second floor in that room.” He pointed at what seemed to be a bedroom drawn on the top left corner of the map. “You’ll let the folder fall from that window into the alley next to the mansion. When it’s done, give us a discreet sign. One of us will fake going out to take some fresh air and retrieve the documents.”
Relief filled the room as Lockwood finished explaining the last details of his plan. He was so sure of himself, so confident and convinced that they would succeed that it was hard to be pessimistic. He made it sound so easy.
“Lucy, Norrie, you should go and see if you can get hired today. George, now that we have a plan, I’m ordering you to find something decent to wear to the event.”
George sighed, clearly not happy about having to leave his research and take on an activity he had no interest in.
“Do you have something to wear, y/n?”
“I’ll probably figure something out.” She answered, rubbing her eyes. The long days of research, planning and cases had drained all energy from her, and like George she wasn’t too eager to spend time on her feet looking for something to wear at a party she wasn’t going to have fun at. Her bed sounded more appealing than anything else.
“Am I going to have to lead you both out with the point of my rapier in your back to get you moving?”
“Are you threatening us so we go shopping?”
“Well, locking you out of the house isn’t an option because of a certain someone,” Lockwood said as his stare lingered on her a few seconds more than she thought necessary, “so I have to resort to extreme measures.” He concluded with a wink.
They looked at him in disbelief. Since when did he care so much about what they were wearing?
“We need to be camera ready, this could be Lockwood and Co.’s first very public night we need to look our best!”
She was so exhausted she hadn’t realized they now had to endure fame-struck Lockwood craving the attention of the public. He was not going to let this go. She reluctantly stood up, mouthing “fine” at him with a thin smile. She dragged George out of the kitchen before he could protest and start an argument he would lose anyway. When public image was at stake, Lockwood always had the last word.
They got home three hours later, arms tired from carrying heavy bags. George’s suit weighed a ton, so did her shoes. She thought then that the platforms might have been overkill. Especially since she still didn’t know what she was going to wear. Finding something appropriate had taken longer than expected. Not for George, who bought the first cheapest suit he could find to get this over with. He complained louder each time she tried on a dress she didn’t buy. She was as frustrated as he was, really. The weather was getting colder and for some reason all she could find were backless or sleeveless dresses in which she was already too cold just by trying them on. Between George’s complaints and her feet growing tired y/n thought about giving up more than once. They started to walk back, discussing the plan for their very busy evening the following night when George interrupted himself.
“Look!”
“What? What is it?”
“In the window across the street. That could fit you for tomorrow night, right?”
She looked across to see a long-sleeved black jumpsuit on the mannequin in the shop in front of them. It was simple but very elegant, with a square neckline, a tight body giving the illusion of a corset, and wider pants long enough to touch the floor. The platforms would come in handy here. Since it was George’s idea, she told him he wasn’t allowed to complain if it didn’t fit. She went inside and came back out fifteen minutes later with another heavy bag to carry home.
---
She couldn’t help the tremor in her hand while she applied mascara on her eyelashes. As the hours went on, y/n could feel the knot in her stomach tighten. The idea of spending the night at such a sophisticated event made her nervous. She was incredibly intimidated, especially considering the type of crowd she would have to face. Being surrounded by rich and elegant people was not something she was used to, and tonight she would have to talk to them to make sure they saw her there. It added a stinging salt to her already oozing wound. She fixed her hair for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes, checking her reflection under every angle. She jumped and dropped her hairbrush when someone knocked on the door to the attic.
“y/n, are you alright?”
She recognized Lockwood’s voice and told him to come in. She bent down to retrieve her hairbrush and when she looked back up she saw him standing next to the mirror, wide-eyed and silent.
“Do I look this bad?”
“You… No! No, no on the contrary you look…” He blushed as he looked into her eyes.
“You look great.” He said shyly.
She didn’t think she had ever seen him so flustered. Had she not been so nervous, she might have read into his reaction. But her nerves were so unsettled that she simply smiled back at him before putting on her lipstick. She had picked a dark red to complete her elegant look for the night. She focused on the reflection of her lips. When she looked back up Lockwood was gone. She wondered if she had imagined his eyes following her every movement in the mirror. He was acting strange, but it was a very stressful night. She couldn’t even stop her hands from shaking. It was surprising coming from him, but they had never been in that situation before. Confused, she went to sit on her bed to put on her shoes. Another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes?”
Lockwood was back, the same bewildered expression on his face.
“I’ve never seen you with lipstick.”
“Well, it’s not really my priority when going out to fight visitors all night.” She joked.
He kept staring insistently at her.
“What is it? Did I get some on my teeth?” She stood back up to look in the mirror again. Everything had to be perfect. She inspected every inch of her face, every tooth, every hair. Movement behind her made her look up to see Lockwood stepping closer in the reflection, reaching for something in his pocket.
“Here, I thought it would make you look even more elegant than you already are.”
He took out a red velvet pouch and revealed a pearl necklace.
“Lockwood… that’s… very thoughtful. Thank you.” She hoped the warm lights of her bedroom were enough to hide the red that had spread across her cheeks. He detached the clasp and went to stand behind her. She looked back into the mirror as he placed the necklace around her neck. She pushed her hair away, her hand softly brushing against his for a second. His gaze remained fixed on her reflection, the dark brown of his irises looking even warmer in the soft dim light. He looked back at her neck.
“They belonged to my mother.” He said as he fastened the clasp.
She looked at him in the mirror with surprise. He was smiling. A soft, delicate smile. He had rendered her speechless. For the briefest moment, the party didn’t matter, the past few months and everything that had led her there tonight weren’t as important. She was here, now, with him and everything was okay.
She blinked and turned around.
“Lockwood I can’t-”
“It’s nothing, really. Plus, you’ll fit right in tonight looking like this.” He winked, his smile back to its usual wolfish grin. “I’ll go get us a cab, George should be about ready too.”
Before she could protest, he was down the stairs, asking George if was ready, leaving her standing there, a hand resting on the necklace. She looked back at her reflection. The pearls did make her look rich and sophisticated, she admitted to herself. Lockwood had never talked to her about his family. She was incredibly flattered by this gift, and most importantly by the fact that he had opened up, even just a little. The softness of his eyes kept flashing back in her mind. She breathed in deeply, more assured than she was. He had quite an effect on her, she thought. The brush of his skin on hers, his soft breathing in her neck… If only he had stood closer, even just for an instant. She stopped her mind from going any further. The butterflies in her stomach were back and her heart was ready to jump out of her chest, but it’d have to wait. They had a party to attend and some documents to steal.
She came down the stairs to join Lockwood and George, ready to leave. George was adjusting his bowtie in the mirror in the living room. She was surprised to see him look quite dashing.
“George, promise me you’ll make an effort to socialize and be as visible as you can tonight.”
“Easy for you to say, it’ll be second nature for you to be at the center of attention!”
Lockwood laughed as he headed for the door and stopped in his tracks when she entered the room.
“Especially if I have the most gorgeous girl at the party on my arm.” He said after a pause.
She blushed furiously at the remark. He had never complimented her so much, or been so kind to her before. She tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but really she was close to falling on her knees. It was like he loved tormenting her.
They stayed staring at each other in silence, their smiles getting wider every second.
“I think I liked it better when you were fighting.” Said George in an exasperated tone.
Lockwood ignored him as he crossed the room to offer her his arm.
“Shall we?”
---
The ride over to the fundraiser was a silent one, though the three of them were agitated. George kept adjusting his bowtie and cleaning his glasses, y/n checked her lipstick in her pocket mirror every five minutes. Lockwood kept fidgeting, but it wasn’t really unusual for him. While they kept glancing anxiously at the road, he alternatively looked through each window like a toddler wondering if they were there yet. y/n did not share his excitement. She gripped the pearls around her neck and took a deep breath. Lockwood nudged his knee against hers to get her attention.
“It’s gonna go just fine.” He said in a low voice.
She smiled but it was rigid, almost fake. Panic was slowly strengthening its grip on her. What was she supposed to talk about with these people all night? She didn’t have Lockwood’s natural talent and ease when it came to socializing. She was terrified of saying something wrong and making a fool of herself. He rested a hand on her knee, bringing her out of her overwhelming thoughts.
“You’ll be great.”
She reached for his hand as she whispered a low ‘thank you’.
Despite his best efforts to reassure her, the crowd on the sidewalk and the animation coming from the mansion brought back her insecurities. Everyone looked so elegant and influential that she instantly felt out of place.
The look on George’s face reassured her a little bit. She wasn’t the only one desperate to go home. They got out of the cab and mingled in the crowd waiting to check their coats. y/n took a first look at the faces she would have to talk to during the night, trying to recognize anyone that would be easier to talk to. None of them looked like she could have seen them around at Fittes, or clients she could have worked with. She did notice the catering van parked in front of an alleyway next to the house, the waiters and waitresses all gathered next to it. She saw Lucy and Norrie with them, acting professional. Before she could try to get their attention and ask them if they were okay, Lockwood grabbed her arm and led her inside.
The elegance of the hall did not prepare her for the spectacular room in which the event took place. An imposing marble staircase was lit with candles, so many she couldn’t count them all, yet it was only half as much as the ones lighting up the crystal chandelier illuminating the room and taking up half the ceiling. If the Silverpoint Organization was a non-profit, they showed none of it during their receptions. The room was full of eloquent people, as she expected, most of them middle aged. Most men wore a lavender pin on their lapel, but some of them had a silver brooch in the shape of a harp instead. Women wore them too. She didn’t know what it stood for and felt foolish, dreading the interactions to come even more now. Every now and then she saw agents in the crowd. Fittes, Rotwell, Tendy’s, Bunchurch too. Unsure what to do, George and y/n looked expectantly at Lockwood.
“Why don’t you two mingle, I’ll go get us some drinks.” He said cheerfully before leaving them to fend for themselves.
They didn’t have time to protest, he was already lost in the crowd. George turned to her, suggesting that they should make a break for it while they still could. As much as she wished they could leave, she couldn’t bail on their plan now.
“I’ll make hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and those mini marshmallows you love so much!” He insisted with a pleading look.
“As much as I want to, we can’t.”
Before he could add anything that was likely to change her mind, the ringing of glasses rose through the air and soon the room fell silent. At the top of the grand staircase stood a man, stoic while he waited for the last conversations to die out.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” y/n was taken aback by the authority in his voice. She mustn’t have been the only one. The first few guests at the end of the staircase had stood straighter at the words.
“I am Theodor Mullet, chairman of Mullet and Sons and your host for the night,” he continued, “I hope you are all enjoying your evening so far. The music will continue in a moment but first I wanted to thank you all for attending and for your generous donations. As you know, the Silverpoint Organization has been helping our brave agents in the small way it can for over 20 years now.” He went on to describe the actions the Organization had taken over the years, reassuring the attendees that their money would be put to good use. Even though she knew for a fact that the donations in question would be spent on the black market, a part of her couldn’t help but believe he was telling the truth. The way he stood, tall and broad with his dark hair greying on the temples and his black glasses framing his gaze made him look straightforward. He didn’t have the appearance of a lying politician like she expected, instead he looked very matter-of-fact, what you would expect of a businessman at the head of one of the largest companies in the country. As she analyzed his every feature, she noticed that he too wore a silver brooch in the shape of a harp on the lapel of his vest. She wondered what kind of association he shared with the guests she had seen with the same accessory in the crowd.
“It was all the more important to me that all agencies attend this event, as both the Silverpoint Organization and Mullet&Sons want to further our relationship with them and support them all in keeping the nation safe. The courage of those young people is truly worth all our admiration, which is why I invite you all to raise a glass to the bravery of the agents present here with us tonight. May all agencies, big or small, defeat the Problem.” He raised his glass to the audience, and all guests followed suit. Many people were now staring at her and George with a mix of respect and pity.
“I could really use a drink… Where is Lockwood?” She said, turning towards George to avoid looking at the rest of the crowd.
“I don’t know… I think I’ll go try the buffet.”
y/n was too nervous to eat anything, especially with all this unwanted attention directed towards her. It didn’t seem to matter to George who was already gone before she could tell him that. She went her separate way to look for Lockwood in the crowd. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she found him charming some prestigious guests with dazzling stories about one of their cases. He was made for this after all and he had a knack for embellishing random anecdotes, turning them into thrilling quests. She tried to break through the crowd as respectfully as she could, overhearing small talk about what a fantastic man Theodor Mullet was or vivid debates about what the Organization’s next actions should be. She grew desperate the longer she looked. Without Lockwood, she didn’t think she could manage talking about those topics for an entire evening.
Relief flooded her when she spotted him next to the bar, glasses in hand. She got closer and stopped a few feet away, frozen. Her already dreadful evening turned even worse. She watched as El gently but confidently stroked his arm, throwing their head back in an exaggerated laughter that rose above the commotion. They did always have a flare for the dramatic. Lockwood smiled politely, but she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely enjoying talking to them. She dismissed the idea immediately. El was too proud, too flashy and overall, too much and Lockwood couldn’t enjoy the company of someone like this. Or could he? He looked around the room but didn’t notice the small sign she gave him, discreetly asking if he needed help. Before she could try something else, he was drawn back into the conversation, El clinging to his arm more every passing second. The knot in her stomach tightened.
She looked over at the buffet where George was having a better time than she was, enjoying the canapes that Lucy and Norrie or some of their colleagues for the night had brought out. She tried to spot the girls to make sure everything was fine but she couldn’t find them among the waiters. When she looked back over at Lockwood, El had placed a hand on his chest, now stroking his tie. She reached them in two strides, not minding the people previously in her way.
“There you are!” She pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Thank you for getting me a drink!” She said as she reached for the second glass he had in hand, interlocking her arm with his.
She looked up to see the confused look on his face. She ignored it and stared at El with feigned surprise.
“Oh… long time no see.”
El was staring back with barely hidden disgust.
“So you two are-”
“I heard you didn’t make it into Kipps’ team…” She didn’t let them finish. “That’s too bad.”
Their eyes darkened at that mention.
“I’ve moved on to better things.”
y/n huffed as she rolled her eyes.
“I’ve been working closely with Mrs. Dufour actually.” They said with a proud smirk. “It pays really well. And I get to meet a lot of influential people… Very influential. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”
She was barely surprised at that revelation.
“I see your loyalty hasn’t changed. At least it looks like your nose just about recovered, that’s a relief.” She forced a smile. Lockwood was staring at her with confusion, not saying a word.
She started to turn away, dragging Lockwood by the hand with her, when they forcefully grabbed her arm.
“I’m sorry your late-night encounter with Rasler didn’t manage to drive you out of town. Maybe next time I’ll finish the job myself.”
Lockwood untangled his arm and came to stand between them. His features were sharper than usual, his jaw clenched in anger. Even when they had particularly bad fights, he never looked so stern.
“Oh you have your prince charming coming to your rescue now! How adorable.”
They both were about to protest when El continued.
“Please don’t make a scene, this a class A event after all.” They looked back at her. “Not that you should get used to that, y/n.”
El then turned away and headed for the bar.
“Are you okay?” Lockwood asked her, worried.
“I should be the one to ask you that. How long were you stuck talking to them?”
He instinctively offered her his arm as they walked away from the scene.
“They ambushed me right after the speech. You have some very questionable acquaintances.”
“Well, I did punch them in the face, it made the inconvenience more palatable.”
She was about to take a sip of her champagne when Lockwood stopped abruptly, making her almost spill her drink. He looked at his reflection in one of the mirrors adorning the room before turning towards her.
“y/n, have I been walking around with your lipstick on my cheek for the past ten minutes?”
She laughed, louder than she had meant, only now paying attention to the very defined dark red shape of her lips on his pale skin.
“That’s not funny I look ridiculous!”
“It’s a little bit funny.” She said gasping for air. “Admit it!”
He smiled, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.
“It’ll come off easily I swear!” She said, dragging him out of the ballroom to look for a bathroom.
He kept his hand on his cheek, trying to hide the source of his shame. y/n had stopped laughing, the realization of what she had done only hitting her now. It was her turn to blush. She wasn’t thinking, she acted on instinct. But why did her instinct have to make her do this in particular?
They reached a corridor lit with golden sconces on the wall. The light was softer here, giving the space a more intimate atmosphere.
“Was the kiss really necessary?” Lockwood asked in a lower voice now that they were further from the crowd.
She forced her embarrassment down and used all the courage she could muster to look in his eyes. His smirk betrayed the seriousness of his tone. He was messing with her.
“Next time I’ll let you fend for yourself.” She answered.
“Do you have many more nemeses I should be on the lookout for?”
“No, I don’t. Unless Dufour decides to go for someone half her age.” She joked.
“I should be safe from this kind of situation then.”
She looked through every door, looking for any room that would have a sink or a vanity, anything to help save his case.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you.” She said absentmindedly, opening yet another door. “You’re young, attractive, you own your company… How come in a place as big as this one none of these doors are bathrooms?”
“You think I’m-”
“Ah! There we are, finally!” She led him into the powder room. She looked for a tissue or anything that would help him get the lipstick stain off. The room matched the elegance of the mansion, fancy soaps and cloth towels displayed next to the sink for the comfort of the guests. She ran a hand towel under the faucet, added some soap and handed it to Lockwood. He stared at her for a few seconds, before reaching for it. He rubbed the cloth on his face, staining it red. Somehow, he made the mark bigger, spreading it across his whole cheek. She laughed as he helplessly looked up at her in the mirror.
“This is all your fault, need I remind you.”
He tried to look upset, but soon he laughed with her at the scene, mocking his own reflection.
“I look like a clown.”
She took the cloth out of his hand and told him to crouch a little so she could take care of it. He leaned slightly against the sink, enough to meet her at eye level. She gently lifted and turned his chin to clean the rest of her lipstick off. He looked at her softly while she worked. She tried to ignore him or the way the soft bathroom light made his eyes sparkle. His eyelashes looked longer somehow. Maybe it was because she was seeing them from so close.
“There.” She said softly. “It’s gone.”
She looked back into his eyes. He was already staring. He smiled softly but didn’t say anything.
“You could thank me, you know?”
“For cleaning up your mess? Do you want a medal too?” He smiled wider. She laughed.
“You jerk!” She threw the towel at him, without doing much damage as it was thrown from so close. “I could also make it worse.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He said defiantly.
She held his stare, becoming increasingly aware of their proximity. Heat creeped up her cheeks, but she didn’t want to move. Instead, she leaned into it, inching ever so slightly closer to him. She rested her hand on the edge of the sink, her fingers meeting the warmth of the back of his hand instead. He opened his palm and wrapped his fingers around hers. He subtly parted his lips, making her look at them then back into his eyes. He did the same. His other hand came to rest on her waist. His touch was delicate and soft, yet it was enough to send shivers down her back. It reached the small of her back, bringing her slowly closer to him, his eyes still focused on hers.
The door suddenly opened, making them both jump up in surprise.
“This isn’t the bathroom!” He man said loudly in the hallway before shutting the door.
She instinctively checked her hair in the mirror. Lockwood stood straighter, clearing his throat. She looked back at him with a thin smile, hoping the dim light hid her crimson cheeks.
“Thank you… for your help.”
“Oh you’re welcome!” She stammered. “You’re very welcome.”
They stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.
“y/n�� Do you…”
“I- uh we should go.”
She exited the room, flushed and a little disoriented. Lockwood called after her, asking her to wait. She wanted to turn back, desperately so, but a voice inside her head kept her from it. They were colleagues, she reminded herself. The voice of reason that had snuck into her head the morning after they fell asleep on the couch came screaming back, listing everything that was questionable about her behaviour. She never would have dared anything like this when she was at Fittes’. Lockwood’s recklessness was rubbing off on her and her conscience wasn’t having any of it. Her crush was inappropriate and now was certainly not the time to get lost in it. She headed back towards the ballroom to make sure enough guests witnessed her presence, but Lockwood caught up with her, reaching for her hand.
“y/n wait, please. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”
She looked back at him, her face still flushed from the moment they had shared.
“No, it’s me. I let my feelings get the best of me. We should really head back before someone notices we’re missing.” She said as she tried to regain composure.
“Your… feelings?” He asked, intrigued. He tried to act casual, but a grin had already formed at the corner of his mouth.
She didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed but here she was. She looked at him with wide eyes, realizing what had slipped out of her mouth and hurried back to the reception, hoping that the night wouldn’t get any worse. She heard Lockwood run after her and she instinctively hid among the guests in response. She grabbed a glass of champagne being served by one of the waiters and swallowed it down in full gulps. If anything else didn’t go as expected, at least she would find it funny. She spotted George still standing next to the buffet. He was joined by Lockwood a few minutes later, who still scanned the crowd, she guessed he was looking for her. She turned her back to him to avoid his eyes and knocked into someone. She apologized profusely, silently cursing this night and everything that had led her there in the first place.
“y/n? What are you doing here?”
She looked up to see her old team leader standing there, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a tuxedo that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his grey uniform.
“Kipps! Hi!” She answered.
“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”
“Me neither if I’m honest. You’re here to represent Fittes I’m guessing?”
“Officially yes.” He said, but his voice had an edge.
“Officially?”
“I’m actually glad to see you again. I could use your insight on something.” He added in a growingly ominous tone.
“Kipps, what’s going on?” She asked impatiently.
“Yeah Kipps, what’s going on?” said a voice behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lockwood was looking down at him with the smug look he always had when he fed into that ridiculous rivalry of theirs.
“Not now Tony, I need y/n’s advice on something.”
“Oh really? And what would that be, Kipps? Put your team members in unfathomable danger again? How many children have you traumatized this time?”
“Lockwood, please. This is important.” She had no idea what Kipps wanted her advice on, but she wasn’t ready to face Lockwood yet. She wouldn’t be for a while. She looked up at him to silently tell him to go. He looked back at her and his smile vanished. She didn’t think this would hurt him, but however ridiculous his fight with Kipps was, his pride was taking a hit having to walk away. It didn’t help that Kipps added insult to injury with snobbish remarks, not caring how childish it made him look.
She started to walk towards an empty corner of the room, grabbing another glass on her way. Kipps followed closely.
“What is this all about Kipps?”
“I’m not just here to represent Fittes.” He paused significantly, as if he enjoyed building some kind of suspense around his intentions. “I’m trying to collect more information on Dufour.”
She stayed quiet for a minute as she tried to process what all it implied. On the one hand, they had a potential new ally in this mess. On the other hand, Kipps could make their whole plan fail and this would not end well. She took another sip to calm her nerves and frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“y/n, you never needed to tell me what happened for me to understand that she fired you because you got in the way.”
A new wave of panic washed over her. She hadn’t told him the whole story, she reminded herself. And she hadn’t seen him since that awful article had been published to humiliate her. There was no way he could have come to the same conclusions.
“I mean, you noticed a lot earlier than me how strange she was acting. After that article came out, I kept an eye on her when I could. There was more and more chatter among supervisors about her. Many clients had started complaining and it was reaching higher level executives. It was pretty obvious where all of this was heading.” He said in a sly tone. She finished her glass. Maybe he had.  
“She’s getting fired and tries to find a job with the Organization!” He concluded, congratulating his deduction skills. At least he wasn’t onto them. She was about to ask what kind of advice he expected her to give him when he started monologuing again. He visibly hadn’t told anyone about this and was getting too enthusiastic finally sharing his theories.
“I’ve already talked to a few guests about this, subtly mind you. I try to stay discreet on this whole thing. I managed to talk to one of the members of the Organization and left him with plenty to think about.” He said with a grin.
“What do you… I mean, what kind of advice are you looking for exactly?”
“Well let’s just say that the few anecdotes I shared tonight might jeopardize some of Dufour’s opportunities.” He winked at her. “I didn’t really need your advice, I just wanted to tell you that what she did is unforgivable, and she had no right to take you off my team. I’m just making sure she pays her dues.”
Apparently in Dufour’s case karma had a name and it was Quill F. Kipps. She smiled and the alcohol made her laugh much more than anticipated. She held onto him as she threw her head back in a fit of laughter, tears starting to prickle the corner of her eyes.
“That’s really sweet of you Kipps, thank you.” She said when her breathing evened out.
“I was proud to have you on my team y/n.” He said, raising his glass. She grabbed another one on a tray a waiter was passing around to clink a glass with his.
“You know,” She said, taking another sip, “I was always so intimidated by you. I was constantly trying to impress you.”
“Well, you did.”
Even though they hadn’t worked together in months, his recognition still made her feel queasy. Or maybe she was drunker than she realized. She looked away, searching for her reflection to make sure she wasn’t as red as she felt she was. Instead, she saw Lockwood watching the whole scene.
“Would you like to dance, maybe?” Kipps asked behind her.
She looked back at him, unable to refuse after what he had done for her. They headed towards the dancing crowd and when she looked back, Lockwood was gone. She tried to focus on her steps and not let him distract her movements. Her head was dangerously dizzy and if it was not for Kipps’ arm around her waist she would have fallen down twice already.
The song felt like it was going on forever, her feet were killing her and a headache started to hurt her temples. After another spin, she spotted Norrie’s red hair from afar, tray in hand and a wide smile on her face. She locked eyes with her and winked before heading back towards the buffet. Did Lucy manage to get the documents? She tried to look around to see if George or Lockwood had the folder. There were so many faces to look at. She lost her balance and tripped, saved by her dancing partner’s quick reflexes.
“y/n are you okay? You should drink some water.” He said as he led her towards the bar. He helped her sit down and brought her a glass, checking if she was alright. He never let go of her hand the whole time.
“I’m fine, I think I just had too much champagne.”
She barely had the time to take a sip of water when a familiar voice resonated behind her.
“What the hell did you do to her?”
She felt Lockwood place his arm behind her back, his touch just as warm as it had been a few hours earlier. His other hand reached her chin, making her look up at him with sleepy eyes.
“Did he make you drink too much?” He asked her in a softer tone, worry filling his voice.
“This is ridiculous!” Kipps answered.
“You shut up!”
“Come on Tony, throwing a tantrum because I danced with your girlfriend, seriously?”
“You-”
“Lockwood! I’m okay, I swear.” She intervened. “Kipps you’ve been great tonight. Thank you for everything, but don’t ruin it now.” She squeezed his hand before letting go. She turned back towards Lockwood. “Maybe we should go now? The first guests seem to be leaving too.”
He hadn’t stopped glaring towards Kipps. When he looked back down at her, he sighed before agreeing.
“Why don’t you go look for George? I’ll be with you in a minute.”
He seemed surprised at her words, like he couldn’t conceive letting her alone with Kipps any longer. He pressed his hand against her back before heading towards the hall. She stood back up, struggling with the height of her heals. Kipps helped her up, holding her still as she tried to find her balance.
“Thank you for everything, Kipps. I never thought you would help me get revenge on Dufour and I have to say that I greatly appreciate it.”
“I tried being the bigger person but it didn’t work out too well for me.”
She teased him once more about the childish fight he had with Lockwood, not convinced that he could ever be the bigger person. They laughed, and she felt truly happy at the comradery they shared. She offered to meet him some time for coffee. He agreed and told her she should probably get back to her boss to avoid any trouble at home. She answered that he was annoying as they hugged goodbye and he ruffled her hair in exchange. With a smile, she headed towards the entrance where Lockwood was already waiting with her coat in hand.
As soon as they got in the car, Lockwood pulled a folder out of his jacket. His smile was radiant as he went over the numbers. They were more than enough to put the Organization in trouble, and hopefully Dufour with it too. As enthusiastic as he was, they were too exhausted to be receptive. George swore he would never set foot in this kind of event ever again while y/n struggled to stay awake.
“I’d rather fight thirteen limbless than talk to another member of that stupid organization.” He exclaimed, shuffling in his seat, disturbing her as she rested her head against the window. There was no time for her to fall asleep, as the cab was already slowing down in front of the house.
George practically jumped out of the car, eager to go to bed to “put this horrible night behind him”. She didn’t know what happened that made him so irritable, but she was sure she had missed something while she was talking to Kipps. Lockwood stepped out next, waiting beside the door to help her out. It was out of necessity more than chivalry since her knees buckled when she stood up. Never leaving her side, he helped her up the stairs into the hall. She started walking or rather stumbling towards the stairs when Lockwood stopped her in her tracks.
“You should drink at least two full glasses of water before sleeping.”
She didn’t answer and simply pouted like a child.
“Fine, if you can walk up to the attic on your own, I won’t make you drink water.”
She gave him an exaggerated smile and immediately tripped over the first step. He put his arm around her and led her towards the kitchen.
She rested against the countertop while he poured her a glass from the tap. She drank it all and he filled it up again. She smiled lazily. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He stared back, making sure she drank it all. The stood there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, wordlessly getting lost in each other’s eyes.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” She said while tilting her head to the side.
It was a bad call. She couldn’t even move her head without being a fall risk.
He caught her just in time, as he always had this evening, and held her closer to start the long climb to the attic. She rested her face against his chest, nestling and taking comfort in his reassuring scent.
“Oh no…” She muttered under her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m putting make-up all over your shirt.” Her voice was sad but she made no move to try and stop it.
“It’s not the first time you put your make-up all over me tonight, darling. I think I’ll be alright.”
After the first flight of stairs, she slouched even more against him. Instead of taking the way up to the attic, he led her towards the opposite end of the hallway in his room. She didn’t register until he laid her down on his bed. The blanket she felt underneath her fingertips wasn’t the same texture as the one she had gotten used to.
“Lockwood I can’t sleep in your bed.” She mumbled, her face pressed into a pillow.
“Of course you can. You’re half asleep already.”
“Yeah but-”
“I’ll go sleep in your bed for tonight.”
She muttered an “okay” barely audible, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“I think that’s enough drinking and dancing for a while.” He said as he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.
“Hardly, I didn’t even get to dance with you!” Her eyelids started to close. “You’re the only one I wanted to dance with.”
She closed her eyes and fell asleep instantly, not noticing when Lockwood exited the room quietly.
---
She woke up to the sound of hammers from the construction across the street. The sun burned her eyes and a painful headache pressed her forehead when she tightly closed her eyelids. She reached for the closest pillow and buried her head under it, hoping to draw out the hurtful sound and the blinding light. It didn’t do much, but it had the perk of surrounding her with a familiar comforting scent. She didn’t know how long she stayed like this. She remembered this wasn’t her room and she was surprised that no one had come in yet. She turned on her side and opened her eyes carefully. The first thing she saw was a glass of water resting on the bedside table. The second was Lockwood’s clothes from last night hanging on the back of his chair. She stared at them for a while, wondering if he had been comfortable enough to change in the same room she was passed out in. While she was sleeping in his bed, nonetheless. She tried the best she could to sit up. Drinking on an empty stomach had not done her any favor. There wasn’t much chance she would get anything done today. She drank the glass left for her and rose up with great difficulty.
Everything hurt. She made her way down the stairs, and by the time she reached the kitchen someone had made her a plate with warm toast. It was sitting on the table at the seat she usually took but there was no one around to greet her. She forced herself to eat even though her stomach wasn’t cooperative and drank as much water as she could, hoping it would help getting over her hangover. The house was quiet. It was a nice change from the noises that had woken her up but it was unsettling not hearing any sign of life. Usually when she thought she was alone she would still hear Lockwood training in the basement or George mutter something under his breath while researching a case. It was rare that the both of them left at the same time. She wondered where they could have gone as she made her way back up the stairs. She passed the library and the turning of pages made her turn around. Lockwood was sitting in his armchair, flipping through his magazine the way he usually did in the late hours of the night after a case. He was impeccable as always and she felt acutely self-conscious standing there at the beginning of the afternoon with messy hair and probably runny make-up all over her face. If he looked up from his magazine she didn’t pay him any attention and ran upstairs to try and look more presentable, no matter how awful she felt.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked when she came back down, not looking up from what he was reading. She took the sit next to him.
“As good as I can.” She answered, massaging her temples.
He pushed forward a glass of water on the table between them.
“Where’s George?” She asked between two sips.
“I sent him to deliver the documents to DEPRAC. I thought he was better suited to leave it anonymously with a semblance of discretion. If Barnes ever saw me there, we could never get away with it.”
“Smart.” She had avoided his eyes the entire time. The entire night was blurry, but the alcohol had not erased the specific memories she was trying to ignore. They stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he finished his magazine, eventually closing it and putting it back on the table between them. The ghost-jar was back into the fireplace, covered in ashes with burn marks here and there. She wondered when George had found the time to keep experimenting on it with how busy they had been these past few weeks. Instead of making its usual horrible faces it simply stared at her. It looked over at Lockwood who didn’t seem to pay him no mind, then back at her with that same insistent stare. It made her even more uncomfortable than the heavy silence filling the room. When she got up to get away from it, it smiled. A crude and devilish smile. What a horrid wretched thing. She was too distracted to realize that Lockwood had followed her into the hall.
“y/n, about last night…”
Before she could turn around, the entire chain of events flashed before her eyes. What part did he want to talk about: her drunken state, the night she spent in his bed, the lipstick mark she left on his cheek or the way she almost kissed him? She couldn’t pick which would be more embarrassing. She didn’t want to talk about any of it either. She didn’t even want to think about it, though this part was harder than it looked. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of his hand around her waist in that first-floor bathroom. After behaving so recklessly, a conversation like this was bound to happen. They might as well get it over with.
“I just wanted to say…”
When she finally mustered the courage to look him in the eye, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” She said, hurrying to open the door.
It was Kipps, coming to see if she was feeling better.
“I’m doing alright! Thanks for checking in.”
“I brought you some chocolate chip cookies from a bakery near my flat. Thought they could help.”
“That’s sweet of you Kipps but we’re a doughnut family here.” Lockwood said before snatching the bag out of his hands, coming behind her to wave Kipps away. Kipps ignored him and turned his attention back to her.
“If you’re feeling okay maybe we could grab that cup of coffee you talked about last night?”
“Thanks but I’m still feeling a bit sick, I’d love to go out when I’m fully recovered though!”
“Sure, give me a call when you’re free. Take care, alright?”
“I will, thank you.”
She waved back at him as he left and slowly closed the door behind her. Lockwood was standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.
“You asked Kipps to get coffee after what happened last night?”
“Yes, he’s been a real friend to me. He’s helping me with Dufour without me asking.”
“What do you mean he’s helping you? Have you been cooperating with him behind our backs?”
“Of course not! I just found out he’s been giving her bad press.”
“So, it wasn’t a date then?”
“Are you jealous of Quill Kipps?” She asked with a laugh.
“How dare you say something like that under my roof!”
They both smiled at the situation, easing the tension that was there a few minutes earlier.
“But seriously, y/n. I wanted to apologize about last night. I never meant to make anything weird or-”
“Can we just say that we both acted dumb?”
He took a few seconds to consider her offer.
“Well, you started it.” He grinned.
She looked at him defiantly. She would not take the fall for this, even though her unrequited crush was definitely to blame.
“Didn’t you call me darling last night?”
He blushed at the mention, only saved by the front door opening and letting George in, followed closely by Inspector Barnes. The intrusion of the DEPRAC representative took them aback. They stared mutely back and forth between George and the inspector, waiting for an explanation. The man stared back at them, a familiar folder in hand. Without saying a word, Lockwood led him to the living room. y/n closed the door before joining them. Barnes stood in the middle of the room, glaring between them, holding up the folder and pointing it accusingly at Lockwood.
“I don’t want to know how you could have gotten your hand on these documents.”
“I’ve never seen that folder before in my life.” Lockwood replied, feigning innocence.
“Shut it! I don’t care how you did it, I know it was you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have caught Karim here sneaking out of Scotland Yard after an ‘anonymous contribution’ was made for the case you seem to be tied to.” He glared in her direction to punctuate his words. After holding her stare in an anger-fueled silence, he looks down in resignation. “As much as I hate to admit it, this evidence makes our case stronger against the Silverpoint Organization.”
She couldn’t help a thin smile to form on her lips. She looked back at Lockwood, relieved. He was already looking back at her with a soft smile. He winked before looking back at Barnes with a proud smile.
“Don’t even dare congratulate yourselves for this. Next time you step out of line, one mistake and I revoke your license and shut down this agency for good.”
They all looked down, trying to hide their joy at hearing that their plan had worked. After a few more minutes of silent scolding, the inspector aimed for the door.
“An audit of the organization’s finances will start in a few days and we’ll probably put an end to your surveillance.” He turned back. “That does not mean that you should get back to breaking any law-”
“Does that mean that Dufour will be arrested soon?” y/n couldn’t help asking, interrupting Barnes who had an exasperated look on his face. He sighed.
“Unfortunately, like any person involved in relic dealings the only evidence that can guarantee an arrest are catching the perpetrators in the act. I’m afraid Mrs. Dufour will remain free for now.” He didn’t seem as frustrated as she was. Probably because this kind of injustice was commonplace in his line of work. Still, her highest hopes came crashing down. The rollercoaster from the joy of their success to this disillusion made her sick.
“Oh.” She simply said.
“I’ll do my best to get her complaint against you dropped. Don’t get the idea of putting yourself in any more danger to get more evidence yourself. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly clear, inspector.”
The three of them led him back to the front door. When she closed it behind him, George and Lockwood both placed an arm around her.
“We’ll figure something out.” Lockwood said. “I promise.”
“It’s alright.” She said in a flat tone. “I’ll go lie down for a while, I think I’m still sick from the champagne.”
As she went up the stairs, her mind was already reeling. If Barnes couldn’t get the evidence he needed to put Dufour away for good, she’d find a way to do it herself.
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dulcewrites · 2 years
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Fool Me Once (part 9)
Summary: you feel your grasp on your passions slip as a new person takes the Iron Throne (wc: 4.3k)
A/N: GUYSSS we are getting into the home stretch :(. I plan on having one more part after this, then a little epilogue/explanation what explains what happens during the actual war and the aftermath. Can’t thank y’all enough for all the support I have received since starting this series. It started as a one off and has turned into something else. sorry this took so long, I had some creativity issues going on. BUT I hope to get part 10 and the small epilogue out very soon.
Also check out my new alys x aemond x oc fic that explains how I actually see aemond and alys lmao
Fmo masterlist
Drowned in Love
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When you were young, you loved the water. Your father said it was the Riverlands in you. Your family home was situated near the Bay of Crabs. There was a river that ran from the Bay near the castle.
Your mother used to chastise you for playing too close to the water in your nice dresses. One of the worst punishments you ever got came after you went into the water without her wishes. At the time, you could not swim. All she saw was hair bobbing in the water, your blue dress floating out around you.
Perhaps it was practice for when you are older, and now you must keep your head above water. Everyday.
You lie in bed, eyes tracing the dark swirls in the on the ceiling. Hair damp, hands shaking, only thing on your mind the sound of waves crashing the shore. A loud, urgent knock on the door makes you jump. There is no panic in the way you slowly up and walk towards the door.
Quinton is standing there, chewing on his lip. He takes in your sedated disposition with furrowed brow.
“Are you ok?”
“I am fine,” you lean, leisurely against doorway.
He winced slightly, before looking down the hallway to see if anyone is around. He takes your hand, and you fight back a flitch. You worry he can sense the difference in them. Or maybe that is in your head. Like a lot of things these days.
“King Viserys… he’s dead.”
You blink once, then twice before a giggle comes out of your mouth. Quinton gives you a slightly mortified look. It only makes you laugh again.
Dead. Viserys dead.
Your stomach churns as the giggles don’t stop. You stop as the bile works it’s way up your throat. It is not long before you are running towards the chamber pot in your room, dry heaving what little is on your stomach into it.
A hand follows on your back.
“It’s ok,” Quinton whispers. “You much be in shock.”
Yeah…. Shock.
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By the time you compose yourself and get ready. When you get to the Great Hall. Rhaenyra is sitting in a chair, rubbing a hand on her temples. All her children standing around her.
Daemon is standing near window of the hall, Dark Sister unsheathed.
Rhaenyra looks up through her hands, and when she spots you, she stands Jace tries to follow her, but she reassured him she is fine.
“I need to speak with you.”
She does not wait for you to answer, just continues to walk out of the hall. As you turn to follow her, Daemon turns from the window making eye contact you. You don’t think you have ever seen his eyes that dull. You nod in acknowledgement before leaving.
Rhaenyra’s pacing around the room only makes your anxiety spike more. The wine you poured yourself not helping. You want to go hug your kids. You want to be far away from this place… from these people.
The natural response should be to comfort her; she has just lost her father. You had thought her husband would be the one to do it but the moment letter made it’s way to painted table, Daemon left the room. Rhaenyra reaching out just to be rejected.
“Rhaenyra, you really should not be exhausting yourself in this condition.”
She asked you to come to her study with her, and since then has done nothing but pace and mutter things to herself. Your eyes go her bulging belly. The maester had told her to be careful this time around. This would be her sixth child, the third in the last five years. Stress never bodes well for a woman with child.
“I want you to advise me once I am named Queen,” she finally turns to you suddenly.
You can’t help yourself, you let out a bark of laughter. No matter how much you feel for Rhaenyra at times, she will always prove herself to be a typical Targaryen. Self-serving to a fault. Delirious with her own thoughts.
“You do not even need to have a title,” she replies. “Just an ally to keep an eye on certain things for me.”
Your eyes go to the red liquid in your goblet; it reminds you of the color of fresh blood. A bile finds its way up your throat. Blinking away tears, you look up shaking your head.
“You will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You will have no shortage of political allies. Ones much more capable than me.”
“Who said anything about politicking,” Rhaenyra rebuts. She sighs, putting her hand on her stomach. You see beads of sweat on her forehead.
Otto had told you to stay close to Rhaenyra while at Dragonstone. She may pretend to walk alone in the world, but she will cling to any partnership she can forge. You can’t help but think about what he is doing right now, and what he would tell you to do. Pre Viserys passing, he would probably tell you to oblige her. The closer the better. Now that the throne is in reaching distance for both Rhaenyra and Aegon, you wonder if his answer would be the same.
“You mean keeping an eye on Aegon, on my husband.”
The word husband leaves a wretched taste on your tongue. Rhaenyra gives you a look, panic in her iris eyes. “I am sure they have been waiting for this moment.”
Though you told Otto the best course of action would be to wait it out, the realm shows their disdain for Rhaenyra and vice versa. You know better than to fully trust that will happen. For all you know, he could be crowning Aegon right now. You pray for their sakes nothing of the sort has come to fruition.
“You really think if I knew about some grand plan to usurp you that I would be foolish enough to come here,” you roll your eyes. “Where could you essentially hold my children and I hostage? Aegon has no desire for the crown. Your father’s treatment diminish that want years ago,” Rhaenyra’s eyes darken, and you throw your hand up in defense. “And Aemond… he wants a lot of things; does not mean he will get them.”
“But… if I chose to agree,” Rhaenyra’s resolve perks up. You want to say something about it being a very strong but, though you are sure it would not help in this moment. “There needs to be honestly, about everything, Princess. Me to you and you to me.”
She eyes the cracked door to the study before going over to shut it. Rhaenyra leans against the door.
“I think we have much in common.” Outside of being women and mothers, you can’t seem to find many similarities. “Sometimes you find yourself in positions… in positions with people you thought you could trust. Decisions are made. People get hurt. It all blurs together till you get what you think you wanted.”
“What is your point, Rhaenyra?”
It’s the talking in riddles, the lying, that you are so sick of.
“My point is, you and your children will be safe under my yoke. I can promise you that. The same way my children are a priority for me. I don’t know if anyone else around you can promise you that.”
Your eyes go from her to outside the window in the study. The beach waves crashing in the back.
No one is ever safe in this family.
— — —
“I do not see why the whip in necessary.”
The dragonkeepers exchange a look. You know they probably do not want you here, but someone needs to advocate for Daella.
You watch from the rocks as another dragonkeeper and Daella wait on the flat grassy area near the castle.
“It is only to assert dominance. He has already sees her as his rider. He just needs to understand that he should keep his attention on her,” the male dragonkeeper says in a low voice. “It has been years. Subservience is something that may need to be relearned.”
Dragons and subservience. The thought makes you want to snort with laughter. It makes you feel like the crazy one, thinking that messing with dragons will blow up in everyone’s faces. A long dynasty built off the beasts should be enough proof it can happen. But you have since learned that Targaryens and everyone else live in two different universes.
While everyone else can see the dangers, they welcome them, accept them as the risk because it is in their blood.
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Rhaenyra’s return to King’s Landing is as somber as it was expected to be.
But she is not the only one with a solemn disposition. By the time the ship that carried everyone docked, and dragons that followed close him scurry away, you can see the tense looks on the faces of those that greet you to.
Alicent, Daeron, and Helaena are there once the carriages stop, the feelings unintelligible because of the stoic nature of their faces. Daeron and Helaena rush over to you.
“I told you to be discreet,” you say softly but pull Daeron into a hug.
You see out of the corner of your eye, Alicent and Rhaenyra reaching out to each other. Daemon makes no effort to be greeted or greet anyone else. You hear him say something to guard about seeing his brother’s body.
Helaena grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze, and you squeeze hers back. A part of you does not want to face Aemond yet, but he just lost his father. Despite it all, your heart does hurt for him.
Daella insisted on showing people her new dragon. Alicent included, who gave you a sympathetic look while her granddaughter pulled away by her dress. You ask for Quinton to accompany them to the dragon pit.
With Alaric in your arms, you try to maneuver into your apartments. You find Aemond sitting and reading a book. He just stares at you for a second before getting up. His attention focused on Alaric. You watch as he murmurs to him.
“I don’t think he liked Dragonstone very much,” you try to break the silence in the room. “We can cross that off the list of places to take them when they are older.”
Aemond just hums, not paying you any mind.
“Aemond, if you want to talk ab-“
The look he gives you makes you stop in your tracks.
“There is nothing to talk about,” he says coldly.
You swallow thickly. You can’t help but feel pathetic whenever you try with him. Like a puppy that keeps coming back to get kicked. Things have gotten so bad that you can’t even get out that if he wants to mourn his father, you will be a shoulder for him. You know he is hurt, but how he manages to always take that coldness out on you is getting tired. It’s been tired.
“Where’s Daella,” he brushes past the conversation you tried to start.
“With her aunt in the dragon pit.”
He hands Alaric back to you and leaves the room to go to the pit you assume. When the door closes, your bottom lip trembles a bit. Alaric looks up at you with big curious eyes.
You hug him closer to you as you look around the room. A place that was once home feeling more foreign by the day.
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The trip to the dragon pit was met with mixed results. Daella seemed excited to tell anyone who would listen about Vermithor. Aemond understood. He was sure he talked his mother’s ear off once he claimed Vhagar.
Things seem to be going well till Daeron stormed in, fire in his eyes.
Gods forbid your wife wants to comfort you. What a poor life you must have. I thought I told you fix it.
A part of Aemond wanted to come clean and say there was no fixing it. He fucked up, you hate him. It is easier to just stay out of each other’s way till one of you can find an out.
What did she do to you to make you act this way. You’re better than that, or so I thought.
Guilt sat deep in his stomach after Daeron said it.
With Daeron’s plea in the back of his head. Aemond finds you in the bath. He can still see the steam coming up from the water; your head leaned back, arms extended and laying on each side. He notices the goblet in your hand. You have been doing that a lot since having Alaric… drinking.
He watches as lean your head up slowly at the sound of him coming in. You roll your eyes at the sight of him. Another thing he notices you doing a lot. Sometimes it’s rolling of the eyes, other times it is loud sigh. As if merely seeing him exhausted you.
It should make him be more conscious around you. Pick his words carefully.
“You shouldn’t drown in your cups,” he knows as soon as the words come out, they were not the right choice.
Your normally bright and clear eyes are blurry and wild. Stray hairs fall from the pile of hair on the top of your head.
“Thank you, father,” you reply sarcastically. He watches you down the rest of your wine, before leaning over to refill it with the large pitcher next to the tub. His eye trails along the birthmark that runs its away across your ribs. It strangely used to be his favorite physical attribute of yours; a part only he has seen.
You would be surprised how well a simple apology works.
His mother’s words play in his head. She used to say it to him and Aegon when they fought Taking a deep breath, he pulls the chair from the corner of the room to near the tub.
“What are you going,” you asked with a frown.
“I think we should talk.”
“I do not want to talk with you,” you groan, closing your eyes again.
“But you sai-“
“I changed my mind,” you sink lower into the tub. “I want to be left alone.”
Aemond doesn’t budge, just stares, mouth twisted into a scowl. He watches you shift uncomfortably until your eyes shoot open.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare?”
“I said I want to talk,” he repeats.
“Fuck you,” you spit out. “I told you to get out.”
“I am trying to apologize.”
You just stare at him for a moment before letting out a bark of laughter.
“Apologize,” you mock. “Whatever for, husband? The cheating, the lying, or just your overall need to be a cunt to me?”
Aemond’s jaw clenches before he tries to reply but you cut him off.
“Now you want to speak on your terms too. After everything you have done to me. You know for someone who resents his father so much that you cannot even come to grips with mentioning his death, you act a lot like him. You watched your mother waste away because of the way he treated her, and you learned nothing. That is not a mistake Aemond, that is a choice. You chose to behave that way, and - and,” your voice breaks. “I have no idea why. I woke up one day alone. Your body was here but everything else was gone. I married you; I gave you children; I bit my tongue like I told to… and it still wasn’t enough for you. The sickest part is that I would have forgiven you if you just showed an ounce of remorse before. So, no Aemond. I don’t want to talk it out with you.”
Your eyes go to water. “I want you out.”
Aemond sits there shocked before getting up and leaving. You sink lower into the tub, till you are submerged. The heat of the water tickles your face. A slight weight lifted on your chest let the calmness of the water take over.
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Rhaenyra is crowned in a small ceremony in the throne room. By the time Viserys body was burned and the smoke reached the skies, her coronation was one of planned.
As you look around, you try to find a happy face. Despite the mistakes along the way or the prejudice some may have, Rhaenyra still has supporters in the Realm. Even with this fact, there is not a genuine smile on anyone’s face.
It is all placations to the tense atmosphere that has entered King’s Landing.
Alicent stood on the either side of you. None of the other Hightower children attended the ceremony. Aemond and you have not spoken since the argument the other day. He spends most of his days riding with Daella which you guess is better alternative to what else he could be doing.
“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First Of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!”
Daemon stands behind his wife, face in deep thought. Rhaenyra’s eyes are red, and distant as her father’s crown is lowered onto her head. Otto is on the other side of her.
You think of the conversation you had with her in the dead of night.
“Why in Seven Hells would I keep Otto Hightower on as hand?”
“Because you and I both know he is good at his job. Despite what you may think of him, he has served each ruler before you well.”
“He married Alicent to my father.”
“Which if recounts are true, you unfairly blamed on her.”
There was silence before Rhaenyra sighed. “I guess having him near is better than far. Corlys is not going to be happy about this.”
As chants for long live with the queen begin, your mind drifts to Aegon. He had been avoiding you since you got back. In fact, he had been tucked away from everyone since.
It could be out a self-survival. There were already whispers about when and how he would take the crown from his sister. Daemon seemed to take it as a personal affront more than Rhaenyra has.
Once the ceremony is over, Otto makes eye contact with you. The meetings had become tedious to hide. With both Rhaenyra and with Otto and rest of the green council.
As people begin to filter out of the hall, Otto walks slowly as you stay behind. He walks you to his study.
“I have to say, I am impressed by how quickly our new Queen has taken a liking to you,” he seems more pleased with himself than you. “And now I have good news for you.”
He pulls out a cloak. The purple shade of it is so deep that it almost looks black. You recognize it well. It’s Aemond’s
“That little problem you had has been taken care of, and I thought you would want this back.”
The familiar flush of heat on the face, and watery mouth you get before you feel like you need to throw up comes over you. You shake your head in confusion.
“This was found… on the body.”
Your breath quickens. “Oh, um well thank you for taking it care of it.”
You know you probably look crazy as you all but run back towards your chambers. The cloak was long forgotten in Otto’s study despite his calls after you. Aemond looks up startled by the desk in the corner when you burst through the door. The two of you haven’t truly spoken since the argument nights ago.
Frantically, you go to the drawer where you unpacked your dresses from the trip. You go to the drawer where you know Aemond keeps his blades.
“What are you doing? What happened?”
When you find the blade you gave him for your anniversary, you drop to your knees. This makes no sense.
Your mind drifts back to pushing her head under the water till she stopped fighting. You tried not to think about it. The nightmares were enough. If that wasn’t her… then who was it? Did that even happen?
You flitch when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Aemond had crouched down to your level with a confused look on his face. He just looks at you before shaking his head.
“Aegon and I have been talking,” your brows furrow skeptically as his voice grows soft. Since when did him and Aegon… talk? His hand goes to brush a hair from your face. “We think it might be best for the children to leave with Daeron when it goes back to Oldtown.”
“What?”
“It is not safe here. Not while Rhaenyra is Queen.”
“Aegon has a reason to send his kids. They could be in line, and in danger, if anything were to happen. We have no reason to.”
“I think we should consider it.”
You scoff. Now suddently he wants to care for his kids. “You can do whatever you want with the children… when I am long dead and buried.”
You swat his hand away, before getting up. You give the blade in the drawer one last look before leaving.
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It had been moons since Queen Rhaenyra, First of Her Name had been crowned. After a short period of peace following the death of King Viserys the Peaceful, King’s Landing was alight with gossip and strife.
Some claimed that Prince Aegon, quick to anger, had spent those months plotting his rise power in spite of his sister. Others claimed that it was the Dowager Queen Alicent that had been planning her son to take the throne behind Rhaenyra’s back.
Most of the drivel was salacious and untrue in nature. But all that was trampled and forgotten once news of a prophet spreading the word against Targaryen dynasty reaches the Red Keep.
Slanderous remarks against Queen Rhaenyra gaining traction. It is said that the comments anger the Queen so much that she took it out on one of her ladies in waiting.
It is now said that these sermons were only the beginning of young Queen’s demise.
The sun streaming in through the window is what wakes it up. You sit up slowly, taking in the nice weather outside. But then it hits you. Alaric wakes you up.
At almost the same time every morning, his cries or coos wake you up. You rush over to the crib to find it empty. You notice Aemond is not in the room either, and then with a throat you call out for help.
As ladies scurry out of your room after getting you dressed, you let out flurry of expletives that Quinton wonders if they are just native to where you are from. Some of them sayings he has never heard before.
He tries to keep up with you as you all but run to the kids’ sleeping quarters. When you don’t find Daella in there, you slowly turn around face stoic, and cold.
Quinton watches as you throw your head back and let out a piercing screaming. Almost animalistic. He knows you probably frightened the guard tell who she is with. But he doesn’t understand… most in this castle wouldn’t.
“I’m going to kill him,” you mutter. You give him a crazed look. “I’m going to choke him to death and feed him back to his own dragon.”
Quinton never thought love would be considered an ugly thing, especially not the love between a mother and her child. A man and wife. But it manifests itself in an ugly way as he watching you kneel over, putting your hands on your knees. You let out an ugly sob, a shattering breath raking out of you.
He puts a hand on your shoulder, and as if a trance was broken, you instantly stand up. You straighten your dress out and walk out as if nothing just happened.
It is not until Aemond returns later that evening that something uglier replaces the panic.
———
Aemond was expecting fireworks. Tears for sure, maybe some shouting, but nothing out of the ordinary for what your relationship has become.
What he wasn’t expecting was the way you flew across the room at him by the time the door closes.
“You fucking bastard.”
Aemond recognizes the look, he’s seen it in his dreams. Aemond tends to think people let the pretty face fool them. He often wonders what would happen if he just left you in room with people you didn’t like. Whereas other people hesitate, when brought to the certain point, you would not.
You begin to hurl curses at him. “You have a lot of nerve coming back.”
“They are with their uncle, away from here. Somewhere safe.”
“Nowhere is fucking safe, Aemond. Not in this family. Not with the father they have,” you hiss. “Incompetent, thinks he’s smarter than he actually is, nothing in that head of yours.”
That’s when the first push is landed.
“Otto was right, you’re a rouge.. a liability. Always have been. Aegon always said you’d eventually do something stupid…. again!”
Aemond laughs, teeth blared in a way that makes your shiver. He’s enjoying this.
“Is that what you and my brother talk about behind closed doors? Huh, I would have assumed you two would’ve been doing more… interesting things.”
Aemond watches as something switches in your eyes at the implication. Your eyes go to the blade on his waist. Aemond raises a light brow.
Do it.
“Be careful, Aemond,” you keep your voice low. “I worry you underestimate me, and what I willing to do for them. If something happens to, I will make you sure you end up like -“
Before you can finish, scared and frantic knocks at the door interrupt you. You shoot him one last glare before going to the door. You find a breathless Jace standing there.
“My mother asked for you,” his eyes seem far away. “The - the babe is coming.”
You look at him in shock, before a sinking feeling settles in your stomach.
Her term still has a month left.
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theghoulboysblog · 4 months
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HAI HAI HAIII!!!! I LOVE UR BLOG BTW ITS ONE OF MY FAVS 😭💜
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throws this at u ! /nf obviously (also ireally like bunnies !not sure if that helps any but :3)
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HERE YA GO! :D I know it isn’t anything spectacular but HEY I THINK IT TURNED OUT PRETTY OKAY!!! :)
(also i did draw your septum, but it’s kind of hard to see 😭)
THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME A PICREW, BEING PATIENT WHILE I DREW IT, AND SAYING SO MUCH KIND STUFF ABOUT MY BLOG!!! 😭🫶 YOU ARE SO SWEET!!! :)
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lemonhemlock · 3 months
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S02E03 First Impressions
- this episode annoyed me a lot less than the last one. i really liked the harrenhal sequence. my gosh, what a great actor simon russell beale is! i mean, i knew already, but goodness. matt smith plays really well off of him. great, moody vibes, great decor and a terrific introduction to alys as a character. daemon conceptualizing rhaenyra as her teenage self.......delicious! this whole section looked lifted off of an A24 movie. loved it!
- i like that they at least attempted to create some tension within the black faction with 1. rhaenys insisting to corlys that he name rhaena his heir and him being meh about it and 2. rhaena feeling resentful at rhaenyra for sending her away to care for children. it's still quite tepid for my tastes and i remain unimpressed because it took them this long to depict even the seeds of disagreement
- you know, i don't even dislike this version of rhaenyra. i don't even dislike this version of mysaria. but they're totally different characters from the book. i've spoken about this before but someone with rhaenyra's current assigned personality would not have done the things rhaenyra has done. i like how anxious she is during council meetings, for example, and i appreciate how she tries to avoid bloodshed, but they want to make her into this reasonable leader because they don't know how to write a story that has two >problematic< sides. they need the dichotomy of good v bad, because the only deconstruction they know how to do is to make the "good guys" just a tad questionable and not perfect and to make the "bad guys" at most a little humanized. they just don't have the guts to go all out from the beginning. i know we will get to mad queen rhaenyra because the story beats demand it (hopefully), but they have to start rhaenyra off as wise and temperate. they don't know how to write book!rhaenyra, who was awful but raw and real in her grievances and could have been sympathetic as such.
- not even going into mysaria the unicef goodwill ambassador. they defanged her so much but without even redistributing her involvement in b&c to daemon. instead, it's all just a harmless fuck up. the diminishing of b&c is such that helaena seems over it this episode. ?? way to gloss over one of the most horrifying scenes grrm has ever thought up. i swear to god, rhaenyra was depicted as feeling more sorry for jaehaerys than helaena. 😵
- my main gripe with this episode, though, is the glorification of viserys. please, i am so tired. i get why otto would be ultimately fawning over him, i get why rhaenyra would hold on to a rose-coloured glass view of her father. i even get why alicent would inhale so much copium as a survival mechanism. but why are we, so often, throwing around so many uncritical statements about viserys being a great king and person? he forced pregnancies on his ailing first wife, killed her to get a son out of her, engineered a succession crisis and maritally raped his teenage wife, impregnating her against her will, too. why is there nothing, not one statement by anyone inviting the reader to contest that? it's one of the grossest things they're doing. is this a joke?
-as such, i don't careeeeeeee about viserys' death bed wish!!!!! i understand why it may be important to alicent and rhaenyra personally. FINE. have them quibble over it in the sept. but no one is making the legal argument that aegon is viserys' heir by andal law! no one! the show wants you to believe that it allllllll hinges on viserys' death murmurings. oh ffs. it can be a good propaganda tool to use, but the king's word is not law as this fantasy setting was imagined with its political structures in place, political structures that the author didn't bother to change from the european medieval history he took inspiration from. he left them as is, so they function as is!!! there are no explanations given as to how or why the westerosi power structure would function differently! the only MARGINAL argument we have heard is that the lords would never accept a woman for a monarch, but never the law itself: a son comes before a daughter and a daughter comes before an uncle. watch the greens in the next episode claim aemond is aegon's heir over jaehaera because the writers won't allow them to remember their own laws. ☠
-as it is, alicent's actions don't make any goddamn sense. if she always thought that somehow viserys' has the last say in naming his successor, then why is she yelling at teenage aegon that he is rhaenyra's challenge simply by living and breathing? why is otto telling her that she has to prepare aegon to rule or else cleave to rhaenyra's mercy? why is little aemond telling teenage aegon that helaena will be his queen? where did he hear that from? if alicent always intended for rhaenyra to take the throne? why is she telling her children since they were small that aegon will be king? it obviously didn't matter to her that viserys failed to actually nominate aegon. it's obvious that she was planning this for a very long time. also, the fact that they wrote that the council "went behind her back" to crown aegon doesn't make any goddamn sense either. it's just a plot hole. they are so inconsistently writing this schroedinger's alicent - she meticulously prepares for years so that aegon could be a legitimate king - gives him the conqueror's name, makes him marry his sister, make him have heirs of his own, tells her children this is what is going to happen, but somehow isn't aware that the council she headed for years was planning the same thing. somehow she was waiting for viserys' say-so. i don't have a problem with highlighting hypocrisy, but this is just a straight-up plothole.
- gwayne. listen, i love freddie fox as much as any man. i knew i was going to stan gwayne since he was cast, no doubt about it. i love how sassy he is. i'm intrigued by the buddy-cop comedy they seem to be building for him and criston. but did they really have to make him sneer at criston specifically because he is dornish and lowborn? and no one is batting an eye? this is so unserious. dorne is not even part of targaryen rule at this point and it hasn't even been mentioned once. no one has said anything about the status of dorne, about how the dornish are viewed throughout the rest of westeros and why. i bet the general public didn't even catch on that being dornish is viewed through a racist lens and that criston is not considered white. 🤦‍♀️ not to mention that ofc they gave the racist line to a green character, whereas rhaenyra gets to collect POC characters like pokemons to prop herself up as a diversity champion
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obsessionsart · 6 months
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shall we dance?
this is dedicated to ali who saw this twice in theatres with me :3
im so insane about this movie guys. and im so sorry this piece took me FOREVER and then it took me so long to post it when it was done but im so happy rn.
I WROTE SUCH A LONG LETTERBOXD REVIEW FOR THEM BUTill summarize. they are sooo sapphic and neurodivergent to me. anyways they both looked absolutely gorgeous in this movie and i am happy to draw any weird girlfaluires from the 80s.
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insxghtt · 2 years
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the rage of a mother IV — aemond targaryen x reader
Aemond finally managed to prove to his family that you were not insane, but now he wondered if it was worth it.
warnings: grieve, violence, blood, death, angst.
previous chapter in here. english is not my first language so i’m sorry if you find any mistakes. hope you like it!
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You followed the guards around the halls of the castle, on your way to the dungeon where your prisoner was. Aemond followed you, but you refused to look at him. You knew he wouldn’t want you to touch the man. Not that he cared about him, but because he feared for your soul. You were already mourning your daughter, you didn’t need to see more violence.
Before you could turn to the hall where the dungeon was, Aemond grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.
“I cannot let you do this”, he whispered.
“Why? You’ve spent the whole afternoon torturing the man. Why should I show him mercy?”
“I am not asking you to show him mercy”, Aemond touched your cheek. “I am begging you to let me kill him. I cannot sit back and watch my wife get her hands dirty with the blood of a traitor.”
“My hands are already dirty”, you said and took his hand away from your face. “I need her name, Aemond.”
“And then what? What do you intend to do? Kill her?”
You didn’t answer. To kill a witch was not as easy as it seemed. It would be dangerous and maybe that was exactly what Rhaenyra wanted.
“We must be patient, my love”, he continued to speak, but you did not listen.
“Rhaenyra has already put a target in our heads.”
“She got what she wanted from you.”
“You are a fool if you believe that”, you said. “She will not stop. I know it because it is what I would do. It is what I will do, my dear.”  
Aemond felt his heart ache as he watched you walking away from him and enter the door. He thought about the woman you used to be and the woman you became. He remembered the way you smiled after the birth of your little girl, how you held her like you were always meant to do that, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by the screams of the man.
You’ve stayed inside that room for hours, but Aemond refused to leave. He stood next to the door, trying to control his urge to walk in the room and take you away. What stopped him was the certainty that you would never forgive him if he did.
At that point he did not know if he did the right thing by bringing the man to the Red Keep. Aemond did not expect you to act like that, he was just trying to prove to his own family that you were not insane.
Suddenly, the screams ceased. The silence pierced his ears and he knew what it meant. His lovely wife, the one that used to have the purest soul he had ever seen, took the man’s life by herself.
You opened the door and he looked at you. Your head was held high, red drops of blood covered your cheeks and stained your hands and dress.
“Alys Rivers”, you said without looking at him. “The name of the witch is Alys Rivers.”
꧁꧂
“Ser Criston has a lot to do”, Alicent argued. “He cannot leave the castle to look for a witch we have never heard of until now in the lands of our enemies.”
The family gathered on the small council. Aegon, this time, was present and surprisingly sober. Otto Hightower watched silently, Ser Criston Cole stood next to Alicent, and Aemond was sitting next to you. He begged his mother to send someone after the woman responsible for the death of his daughter, but apparently, he was the only one who understood and shared your pain.  
“Great, I do not need him”, you said and stood from your chair. “I can find her myself.”
“No!”, Aemond raised his voice and held your hand tight. “You will stay here. I will send men after her.”
You sighed and sat down again. Aemond was the love of your life, but it was exhausting to be in the presence of his family for so long.
“We need these men here, Prince Aemond”, Ser Criston said, “If the word spreads and Rhaenyra finds out, she will see this as an opportunity to attack.”
“What do you suggest then?”, your husband tighten his hand around yours, trying to control his anger. “That we let the woman who killed my daughter walk free?”
“My Prince...”, Ser Criston tried to speak, but Alicent interrupted him.
“We are simply saying that we should wait for the right moment.”
You laughed sarcastically at the words of your mother-in-law.
“Perhaps the King should be the one to decide it”, Otto said and, suddenly, all eyes turned to the new King.
Aegon’s gaze was focused on his own hands. He felt the stares and looked at his mother.
“You are right, mother. We should wait for the right moment.”
“I wonder if you would say that if it was your child”, Aemond said and you caressed his hand with your thumb.
“I am not finished, brother”, Aegon raised from his chair and looked at you. “The man knew her in person, did he not?”
“Yes, your grace”, you answered.
“Did he describe her?”
“Yes, your grace”, you nodded. “White skin and long dark hair.”
“Where did you find him?”, he turned to Aemond.
“I’ve sent two men to look for evidences to prove that my wife was not mad like many of you said”, he said with grudge. “They found him running away from Harrenhal, speaking of a curse and brought him to me.”
“Harrenhal was taken by the blacks”, Otto remembered.
“Then we shall take it back.”
“And how will you do that, your grace? They have strong walls and we cannot risk to lose soldiers until the army from the north arrives”, Otto said.
“They have walls”, Aemond stood from the chair and looked at the man. “We have Vhagar.”
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sluttysnowangel666 · 1 month
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The Song of Blackwoods and Brackens - finale
Thank you so much to those who read and loved this story, I originally intended for it to be much shorter and with a way sadder ending( title was inspired by the song of achilles so i felt a tragic end was fitting) but i got carried away, and i couldn't find the strength to break everyone's hearts. This fanfic is the first time i've gotten back to writing since i was like 12 years old, usually these stories play in my head and i just leave them there but for some reason this one took a life of its own. if people would like to read the alternate ending, let me know and perhaps ill post it. until then, i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you all my delulu bloody ben baddies, i love you more than you know.
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masterlist
𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃
I didn't know how I got there. All I knew was that these moments were about to be my last.
Everything had happened so quickly. The situation spiraled out of control before I even realized it was occurring.
Smoke was everywhere, bodies were everywhere. I couldn't walk without stepping on someone. I knew I was going to die. I could barely walk, could barely see.
I could live with dying. I made my bed, I'm ready to lie in it.
He and I were doomed from the start. I loved him; It ruined my life.
My ears were ringing, my eye was in excruciating pain, as well as my leg.
"Ben." I mumble out, disoriented. "Benny..."
I scan the area. Nothing but bodies. Oh, Gods. What if he was one of them?
There's cries of men in the distance, and the sound of fire crackling the burning mill.
I manage to push myself up, leaning on my sword. I cry out at the pain.
Gods... This was all my fault. I'd destroyed everything I touched. My brother was dead,  I couldn't find my lover, I had no idea how long I'd been knocked unconscious.
"Benjicot!" I cried out. "Ben!"
An arrow whips past my head, nailing the wood post behind me. I do a full turn, and see a woman.
She's not much older than me, her hair is long and dark. Alysanne Blackwood.
"Black Aly." I say.
"Who are you?" She asks, an arrow aimed at me.
"I... don't know anymore."
"Judging by your clothes, you're a Bracken. My only concern is... you're a woman. Why is a Bracken woman fighting here instead of cowering in her chambers?"
I don't answer. "I've slain your uncle." She says.
I growl with anger. "You bitch!"
"Too slow." She teases.
I raise my sword, she pulls back on her bow.
"Stop this now!"
I turn, and he's there. Alive. He was greatly wounded, covered in blood as was I, but he was alive.
I can't hold back anymore. Gods, I was so angry with him, but I didn't even care. I limp towards him, bursting into tears the second I fall into his arms.
"Oh, my sweet." He cries, pulling us to the ground. He kisses my bloody head, sobbing into my hair. "We need to get you a maester, now."
I pull away, landing a hard slap across his face. "That's for knocking me unconscious, you craven."
"You left me no choice." He says, hardly phased.
"I know. I'm sorry." I say. He kisses me again.
"Nephew," Alysanne interrupts. "who is this woman dressed as a man?"
"My betrothed." He says.
"This battle... was all because you loved a Bracken?" She asks, incredulous.
"No." I answer. "It was my fault. My family started it... It was because I loved a Blackwood."
"What's the difference?"
"Fuck you, Alysanne."
"Tread lightly, Bracken scum. I'll still fly this arrow through your good eye-"
"Gods sakes, enough! The both of you." Benji demands. "Aly, please, she needs a maester."
Alysanne hesitates, but nods. She turns and runs, happy to be as far from my destructiveness as possible.
Benji helps me begin walking back to Raventree Hall, letting me lean on him for support.
I hear a cough, a familiar, raspy cough. I turn, shocked to see my uncle leaned against a post, an arrow in his left chest plate.
"Uncle." I say.
"You're still alive?" He coughs, blood spewing out of his mouth.
"I am." I say. I push off Benji to stand on my own.
"Get it over with." He sighs.
"Do you have any last words?" I ask.
"You're a disgrace to the Bracken name." He says.
"Well then," I pause. "it's a good thing I'm a Blackwood."
I turn to Benji, whose face reads nothing but pride in me.
"My betrothed," I start.
"Yes, my lady?"
"I believe I know what I want for our wedding."
"Whatever pleases, my lady. Ask and it is done."
I smirk, "I want his head."
One clean swipe was all it took.
Bloody Ben, gets on one knee, and holds up my uncle's head as a gesture of love to our union.
"Put it on a spike. Remind those what happens when you challenge a Blackwood."
———
The maester did what he could to stop the infection, but my right eye could not be saved.
"I look like a monster." I say, trying not to cry.
"The scar will be quite attractive." Ben says. I roll my good eye. "You can cover it, my love, if you so wish. Or perhaps a ruby, or obsidian to take its place."
My leg would fortunately recover. The scar ran from my thigh down to my calf. I have no idea how the maester was able to save it, but he did, and I was forever in his debt.
It would take me years to fully recover, but I had time. We had time.
It took days to clean up the land of bodies. Rain came, cleaning the grass of the blood that stained. After that, it was as if the battle never happened.
Each time I laid my eyes upon Stone Hedge, I sobbed. I would never forgive myself for my brother's death. While time would heal my wounds, they would never heal my grief.
———
Some years later
Benjicot and I married on the 20th day of the 7th moon of 129 AC. The union was approved by the queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her son Jacaerys had come to celebrate in her name.
I had become Lady Blackwood of Raventree Hall, and I was finally loved. I was loved deeply and greatly by my lord husband, Benjicot.
I had found a family in ones who were once considered my enemies. Alysanne and I set our differences aside and became sisters, Willem Blackwood accepted me as his new daughter.
The war however, was not so kind. It had been called The Dance of Dragons. My husband and I had gone off to fight for our kingdom numerous times, no matter how much he begged for me to stay back.
Nowhere felt more familiar to us than the battlefield. We fought side by side, protecting each other always. We had earned the nickname Bloody Ravens in time.
When the war finally ended, my husband and I returned home for good. Scars covered our bodies and we embraced them. They were reminders of who we were, and what we had endured together. Reminders that no matter what we faced, we would always be there to protect the other.
One day, my husband came to me.
"My little Bracken." He said, kissing my neck and wrapping his arms around me as we stood on the balcony, overlooking the land.
"Lord Husband." I greeted him. He hummed in my neck.
"I believe it's time we produced some heirs for House Blackwood." He says, planting gentle kisses along my neck.
"Is the babe in my belly not enough?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips. He moves his hand down to my swollen belly, rubbing gentle circles.
"I want these halls running with Blackwood children." He continues to kiss me.
"Oh, my dear husband." I turn and cup his cheeks in my hand. "When I push this babe out within the next few days, you can fill me with another."
He smiles, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. Our daughter was born on the 3rd moon of 132 AC. Her name was Alyssa Blackwood. Benji held true to his word because after that pregnancy, we had 4 more; a boy and girl, the heir to Raventree Hall Aeron and his twin sister Aly Blackwood, another son, Benjamin Blackwood, another daughter, Nyra Blackwood, and another son Willem Blackwood.
"My little ravens." Benjicot called them.
And we lived in domestic bliss. Indeed, we had never felt peace again. But, who does after you have children? Our ravens roamed our halls, spreading chaos as Benjicot and I had when we were younger, but it was all we wanted. One day, my children would know the doomed song of their father and I's love. They would learn the history of our houses, the feud between them, the loss of their uncle. They were Bracken and Blackwood, through and through.
Bloody Ben died, and in his place was Benjicot Blackwood... Until the time always inevitably came where my husband and I went back out to fight. You can take the man out of the war, but you can never take the war out of the man.
Sometimes, we still snuck away at night, going back to that weirwood where it all began. We played, we swam, we fought, we fucked, we loved. It would always be our place, for just us. No matter what happened, no matter where we started, no matter who we were, who we became... we would always return to where we were meant to be.
And in years and years when Benji and I grew old and gray, ready to meet the Gods, we knew we would come back here again.
Together.
Where we began... Where we end.
𐂃 🐦‍⬛
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